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A buddy at Deep Focus sent us this news about Rap Cat, demonstrable success that guerrilla advertising, performed properly (assuming Rap Cat was), unlocks the quality of loyalty and evangelism in the demo it's meant for.
We don't know about all that. And five pages on a video that we couldn't hang with past the first minute was five pages too many. We did think Rap Cat was a good way to showcase how vacuous mainstream rap is (and has been for awhile), and maybe it's commentary on the whole lolcat phenomenon too. Who knows.
All we know is we felt embarrassed watching it, and somewhat impatient, and a little aggravated, and after all that washed away we had a strong suspicion Rap Cat was intended to generate just those feelings. Because it sure wasn't funny.
(For the record, Deep Focus had zip to do with Rap Cat. The bling-sporting feline was the brainchild of Amalgamated, a wee NYC firm.)
We've just spent the last hour having way too much fun with Pet Moustache, built in-house by the facial hair-loving folk at Crispin Porter + Bogusky.
The site is an interactive extension of the Burger King Western Whopper campaign, and it's almost too entertaining, particularly in the wee hours of the morning.
You upload a picture, grow your own mustache and then trim, wax and shape it. The demo made this process look really easy but the hair is unwieldy and the image at left was the best we could do.
If we could get this grooming thing down, we think we'd look kind of awesome.
"It's horrific," a nearby passerby said.
Yeah. If by "horrific" you mean, "THE SEX."
Leaping into the virtual world with guns a-blazing, and perhaps dissatisfied with slaughtering just Spanish on its quest for incoherence, Taco Bell partners with DraftFCB, Irvine, which in turn enlisted Gizmoz and MTV, to launch a "virtual casting call." Future digital celebrities will have the pleasure of appearing on a late night commercial in the MTV Video Music Awards.
So for those seeking their 15 minutes of fame amongst stoner-kind, you may get your wish.
Created by Imagine Digital Communications and produced by Baby Cow, the Ford-sponsored "daily interactive online sitcom" uses a Wiki-style website called Where Are the Joneses, which allows any viewer to change the storyline, character, setting, location or any other element of the sitcom. With all kinds of interesting scenes involving back stretch farting, we're sure this one's going to be a winner.
Maybe knowing that a bare ass is at least the quickest way to get our attention, Toto's Clean is Happy shows us the backsides of its spokespeople before we ever see their faces. (Which makes things sort of awkward when we finally do.)
And we could have dealt with that. What we couldn't deal with was the smiling woman telling us a bidet is all about relaxation and wellness as she sat, perkily perched, atop a toilet.
The site was put together by the Jonestown School of Advertising. Must have been a pretty hit-or-miss project. For every classmate whose junk in the trunk we wanted to gawk at when we were in school, there were at least 10 that we hoped would keep theirs stashed.
This really takes egocasting to the next level. For those who find even virtual networking a problem, Brando gives you USB Virtual Friends, which enable you to invest a little plastic buddy with all the qualities you really need in a desktop partner. Including a photo.
Far from a mere memory-logger, these dolls give you a virtual world where you are master. Give them personalities and your choice of over 100 preprogrammed dialogues for communication.
Available in Virtual Boyfriend, Virtual Girlfriend ($17, respectively) or sets ($30).
Some people will go to great lengths to keep their beer cold. Other people, such as the chap in this M&C Saatchi-created Fosters commercial, are simply insane. Or, he have the ability to detect, perhaps, a tenth of a degree temperature difference that might be caused by the sun walking from the bar to his beach chair. While his buddies are ogling beach beauties, this guy is acrobatically following tiny bits of shade to protect his beer from the sun.
Holy shit! It seems we've been targeted by a Miami serial killer according to a WBFX news report. Curiously, all five of the serial killer's victims have been male, in their 30's and work in the media industry. Chillingly, our name has been scrawled in blood on a wall in Miami and on a piece of paper found by the police naming us the killer's next victim. Even more chillingly, we were just in Miami for a conference.
In fear, we've barricaded ourselves into our offices with one inch thick back issues of Vogue and blocked the the windows with the hundreds of Casale Media bags we've collected at ad:tech conferences over the years. The police have been called and we hope the industry's prayers are with us.
OK, OK. It's all just one of those personalized video promotions, this time, for the Showtime series Dexter which will begin airing on FX in the UK.
AdPulp's David Burn points to anonymous ad blog Agency Tart on which the writer castrates his (or her) client for telling him permission should have been requested when he told the client Monday he'd be out of the office this Wednesday through Monday...but fully available via Blackberry. We all know some clients like to keep their agency folk on a tight leash but after laughing at the client thinking the whole thing was a joke, Agency Tart minced no words over being treated like a kid and wrote, "[the client] proceeded to tell me that he expects me to clear it in advance with him any time I plan to take off, as it might not 'coincide with the company's needs.' You gotta be kidding me. While I'm gone, I'll scour the souvenir shops looking for a device that will help him get his head out of his ass."
Clearing your vacation with your immediate supervisor, yes. Sharing your vacation plans with your client, yes. Being required to ask your client if you can take time off like a second grader asking his teacher to go to the bathroom...um, not so much.
With all the work it's done to court the "we are woman, hear us roar" demographic, we harbor serious doubts that this viral for Dove is the genuine article. Really, do they even sell deodorant cans like that anymore?
It certainly gets the point across (only amazing sensory deception could bring a sexual partner that, uh, close), but we'd be understating if we said the ad only made us a little sick. (And what's with that chick's teeth?) Then again, we really liked the idea of man omelet, so...