A source points us to a UK trend of snippy little domestica ads showcasing women acting out the spectrum of nasty human emotions for love of a product. The ads run along the same undercurrent: antagonists have a quality about them that's shared by kids who get in trouble long after 3rd-grade because they still haven't learned to share. (We know what happens to those kids. They grow up to be amazingly magnetic sex gods and goddesses who write ad news for a living.)
A couple of illustrative ads include this one for Toyota Yaris, where a woman passive-aggressively crashes her boyfriend's plane after he kicks the door shut on her car; and this creepy Quorn one where a girl with a fork acts out over health food.
If this is any indication of quietly growing womens' sentiments in the UK, we're disinclined to visit anytime soon, particularly if there are forks nearby. Feel free to send in more of the same or an explanation if you happen to have one.
Here's a Russian vodka commercial that releases all that pent up, iron curtain crap the country had to endure for so long. Like a 16 year old kid returning from a week spent on vacation with the family to the privacy of his own room to urgently release thats week's "build up," Russian marketers are undergoing a release of their own. In this commercial for Kreslova vodka, a lonely Russian man's imagination drifts to the pleasures of beautiful woman clad in nothing more than tiny thongs and cleavage-enhancing lingerie. And it's all the vodka's fault. Damn. Where can we get some of that imagination-enhancing vodka here in the states?
You know those casual-sounding recorded calls that say you should refi your house? Now you too can act like you don't have time to make calls yourself.
Eidoserve presents Abby Me, who does all the dirty work for you. Punch in the number of who you want to call and write a whimsical message. Seconds later a pleasant but eerie female voice will call the receiver from your number and repeat what you scribbled out. It's sure to irritate everyone you know and make you feel more important than you are.
Abby makes good with simple phrases like "Hello, I want to have your babies" but not so well with $10 words like "Supercalifragilisticexpialidoceous." Well, an assistant who at least tries to convey nonsense with a straight face is always a keeper. Best of all, she doesn't charge anything. Why can't most interns be that awesome?
This Spanish ad for the latest Got Milk? campaign brings us to an island where everyone giggles all day. The laughs and smiles get attributed to milk, toted as a magic salve for strong white teeth.
We were told this ad is funny but mostly we were confused, due no doubt in part to the fact that nobody at Adrants speaks Spanish. We watched it seven times and it didn't get any funnier. In fact, by now we're feeling a little bummed.
We considered getting some milk in order to feel less bummed, because, you know, there's tannin in it, but then we thought, doesn't vodka do almost the same thing?
What exactly is this ad saying? I have breasts so I'm not smart enough to read The Economist? I show a lot of cleavage so I don't have to be smart to get what I want? I wear a Wonderbra so every man is at my beck and call? I'm a stupid female that thinks my breasts are more powerful than my brain? OK, maybe that last one's kinda true for some but still. Perhaps Linda Foster is just so cool for wearing a Wonderbra that intelligence like The Economist are just beneath her. Maybe the Wonderbra is so effective it makes her breasts so huge see can't see over them to read the magazine. Please. Explain this ad to us.
We are so sick of all this Julie Roehm crap. Oh wait. No we're not. Are you kidding? Of course we're not. This is great shit to write about. So now she's suing Wal-mart for breach of employment contract and demanding the return of certain files and items from her office such as paint and a step ladder she left in her office. Aside from all the boring legal crap, perhaps the best line in the entire Advertising Age article about this latest chapter in the saga is, "Among the changes Ms. Roehm effected during her 11-month tenure at Wal-Mart: She painted her office." Classic. Priceless. Hilarious.
While she has concerns over what she believes is money owed her according to her contract, when she appeared today at a panel on the worth of Super Bowl advertising, she said her Wal-Mart dismissal was a "blessing." Certainly a strange comment to make on the eve of issuing a lawsuit against the employer that delivered that "blessing." Oh whatever, so the saga continues, wasting bit and bytes off online press space and killing trees all to regurgitate the same old crap: she wasn't a fit for Wal-Mart and they canned her ass. Get over it. Move on.
For all you perverts out there. Oh wait. Sorry. That's just us. And maybe the dude over at Where's my Jetpack who had some fun playing with Land O Lakes butter. No, not the product you sickos. The packaging. Apparently way bakc in the 30's, the designer of the packaging, Jess Betlach thought he'd have some fun by adding the visual hint or female aureola/nipple to the Indian woman's knees. The knees, you ask? Well, according the Where's My Jetpack, thousands of boys would cut the knees off, cut a whole where the Indian woman is holding the product and insert the image of the knees thus creating the illusion of an Indian woman holding her bare breasts.
Remember, this was before Playboy. Before Juggs. Before the Internet. Before National Geographic, perhaps. Apparently, a guy had to so what he had to do to get his daily moment of satisfaction. Humorously, Where's My Jetpack promises to post Land O Lakes' cease and desist when it arrives.
Oh this is beyond good. This is genius. If we could all leave our jobs this way, a career in advertising would be a very satisfying experience. Imagine getting back at all your idiotic asshole co-workers you had to deal with during your stay at the agency. Imagine pulling a knife on that fat ass, know-it-all account director that made you do all his work. Imagine cutting the nads of that smarmy jerk in accounting who couldn't keep his eyes off your breasts. Of course, they are huge and bulging out of your cleavage-enhancing tops all the time but that's besides the point. Imagine TBWA\CHIAT\DAY Executive Creative Director Chuck McBride murdering all the employees in the San Francisco before he leaves to start his own agency. Imagine...oh wait...it's just a spoof YouTube video. Everything's going to be OK.
We're not really sure why, and we wish it weren't that nauseating colour, but French artist Philippe Meste wants to create the biggest boxful of sperm ever.
The Spermcube seeks a fill of no less than one ton of human sperm, so if you can't get your 15 megabytes of fame then at least your little soldiers can when you make a donation. For those financially inclined and less biologically so, Meste also provides the option of becoming a shareholder via PayPal.
No words in English to describe our feelings about this one, so we'll shoot for the French: c'est degoulasse. Is it wrong for us to wonder about the smell?
The Fame Game, an all-online talent show where the talented and not-so-talented vie monthly for money and stars, enlists Cake to create a catchy viral. The result? Kitchen Diaries.
For a good Electro Funk Daddy Superstar Break, a quirky beat-boxing chef throws together a satisfying ingredient list of ripped noises. After creating an awesome break, he recommends nixing the fish (a popular addition) and sticking the mixture in an oven to bake for three years at 700 degrees.
Awesome work and a tasty listen. Take a look at the wannabes who've already jumped on board. We recommend you not skip the Elvis impersonator who beat-boxes on the john. Definitely pimp-throne worthy, yeah?