What would happen if a Thickburger jumped into a cold swimming pool? "Shrinkage" -- one ad among many for Hardee's Little Thickburger. Despite its focus on (small) size, (wide) breadth and general meatiness, it is radically devoid of gigantic titty jokes or other innuendos.
Each spot sports its own overly cute Thickburger-vs-Little-Thickburger comparison and ends with the same glib line: "It's a Thickburger, but little."
If Daria ever went into advertising, a slogan like that would've been her magnum opus.
- A handful of rich-ass celebrities use reverse psychology to cajole MySpace users into voting. What, does Jennifer Aniston not do it for you? Maybe Leonardo DiCaprio's poverty-ridden excuse for a blog will.
- The wife of David Warthen, founder of Ask.com, is facing tax evasion charges on money she made while working as a hooker to pay for law school.
- In a bid to woo former CP+B client Pearl Izumi, Boulder agency Karsh/Hagan launched a poster campaign slamming agencies that drop smaller clients for bigger ones.
- With "silent" ad, KFC offers $20,000 to the United Nations World Food Program if presidential candidates address the issue of world hunger during the debate Tuesday in Nashville.
- Smirnoff is out with a new commercial which has two trapeze artists making a drink in mid air while performing at the circus.
- Kiplinger's Personal Finance magazine has joined the National Association of Personal Financial Advisors Consumer Education Foundation and TD AMERITRADE Institutional to launch the Your Money Bus Tour.
Nobody ever tires of a transparent double entendre, right?
Bearing that wisdom in mind, Nando's released an ad where a blonde ditz flags down a waitress because her burger didn't come with chips. (That's British talk for "fries.")
So...does strapping a midget...oh, damn, that's not the right word...a little person to the front of a man who then, with the help of the little person, hurls a shot which beats a 1973 record make the man one and and a half times the man he already is? According to Solo Strong beer, the answer is yes.
All of this raises a very important question; Does Solo Strong beer thing midgets, sorry, little people are half as good as "regular" people? Apparently so since advertising is, as we all know, the bastion of truth and enlightened thought, right?
From SelectNY and Anonymous Content comes this new commercial for Giorgio Armani's Diamonds for Men. The ad features Josh Hartnett doing what people like Josh Hartnett do in fragrance commercials; drive classic cars, dress classically, work the crowd at a retro Hollywood event, act like a star and, well, say nothing.
Is there anything more boring than insurance? You need it but it's one of the most unsexy things in this world. OK, so it's not like it hasn't been done before but this latest ad for Trident Insurance hides nothing and doesn't apologize for anything when, for a full minute and a half, it foists upon us nothing more than a bunch of women in white bikinis jumping up and down while the camera focuses on their jiggling (in slow motion, of course) breasts.
That's it. That's all there is to this commercial. There's nothing else to write about it other than, perhaps, an analysis of bikini style, breast size or fake or not commentary. And since Adrants is a serious publication covering the advertising industry, not sex, you really don't want want to read about all that, right?
"Spoken Word," a Guinness ad, just debuted in Jamaica. It is pretty, and mystical, and it even takes a shot at being uplifting. "Reach for greatness," it concludes, shortly after a melodic spoken word artist -- whose words turn wisps of time into wings on his back -- fades from view.
Substantial but casual. Kind of like Guinness, actually. Between the lines, it suggests drinking isn't confined to drunks, co-eds or singles pursuing carnal intrigue.
By Saatchi & Saatchi/London and production firm Shilo/Hanharan. Music by Human.
Patsy, a little potato-faced woman, doesn't know how to talk to her kids about drugs. But she knows that she should, so she finds ways to unearth drug use in ways they won't expect: ambushing them in the shower, patting them down mid-embrace, and stripping labels off the family's prescription pills. (Don't ask. I was clueless about the logic of that.)
In the end, well-meaning Patsy only alienates her kids and bamboozles her husband into accidentally taking female hormone pills. (No labels on the drug bottles, remember?) The moral of this story? "Don't be a Patsy."
