Well, the new year certainly hasn’t bought any better adverts, has it?

Another pretty terrible crop have appeared: the bizarre Safestyle UK advert with Frank Sidebottom, the patronising as hell SMA Dad’s Promise advert and, my current favourite bad ad, the latest Slim Fast advert! Its tootie, fruity, kick you in the face with its booty lyrics have surely made it stick in peoples’ minds (which, for Slim Fast, will mean it’s a success) but, for the saner members of society, it’s an abomination.

Thankfully, you’ve voted Slim Fast into the top 10 although it’s not made it into this month’s top 5:

1. Picture Loans – Dad’s Found Your Scooter
2. The Gadget Help Line
3. Halifax
4. Glade – Touch and Fresh It’s All Gone
5. Dulco Ease

Yep, Picture Loans is back on top with the rest of the top 5 looking pretty similar to last month.

Want to change it? Get voting.

More Shameless Self Promotion

Just another quick thanks to the Guardian and Johnny Dee for featuring TWA in the Guide earlier this month. You’ll be gald to know that fame hasn’t changed me except, obviously, I do get my man to type out these posts for me now whilst I recline on the chaise longue eating freshly peeled grapes etc.

No, really, I do.

Having a Laugh?

TWA is nominated in the Humour (or “Humor” as those Septics spell it) category at the Bloggers Choice Awards. See:

Clicking that button above will cast a vote for TWA. And if I get enough votes I become “King of the Humo(u)r-based Internet” (or something) and I promise to make you all my Princes/Princesses of the Humo(u)r-based Internet if I do make it.

The only down-side of clicking that button is you have to register in order for your vote to count, but if you were really a TWA fan that would be a small price to pay, wouldn’t it? Or do you not want to be a Prince/Princess of the Humo(u)r-based Internet?

Click it. Click it. Click it. CLICK IT.

Submit a Bad Ad

Thanks to all those that submitted a bad ad this month. I’m trying to get round to putting them on the blog but I am very, very lazy.

I do appreciate you contributions though, so…

Don’t forget that you can also join in the hate by submitting a UK TV advert that really gets on your Glade Flameless Candle.

Ta, Silky.

You may remember Foxy Bingo’s last advert.

It was all a little confused with no-one really seeming to understand what was going on.

We argued whether the was a fox in it originally or whether there wasn’t a fox in it originally. Back and forth. Back and forth. But in the end we all agreed the Fox suit looked good, if not, very purple.

All very important, world changing, “What the Internet was invented for” stuff.

But now there’s a new advert:

If anything this new Foxy Bingo advert is a triumph for customer research. They clearly have a much better idea of who plays on their site and, I think you’ll agree, they’ve targeted them much more betterly.

For instance, from the folks I’ve spoken to that have actually played online bingo (yeah, I mingle), one of most addictive parts – other than gambling, of course – is the chat rooms. You see, some people apparently aren’t completely miserable sods who do nothing but complain about adverts and they can actually “make friends online”. Hard to believe, I know, but true.

So Foxy Bingo are using Sister Sledge’s “We are family” song (which they couldn’t resist changing a line to say “Play Foxy Bingo for free”. *Groan*.) and a big group of women walking down the street to represent a (online) community.

Do you see what they’ve done there? Do you?

OK, but beyond that literal slap in the face, the advert does feature, I must confess, some great visual references to bingo caller slang.

Starting with – maybe a bit too obviously – 2 fat ladies (that’s “88″ bingo slang fans), a disturbing Howard from the Halifax look-a-like “Man Alive” emerging from a coffin (that’s “5″ bingo slang fans), my favourite – the old lady with droopy draws (that’s “44″ bingo slang fans) and, possibly the most subtle, the Foxy Bingo bus is number 41 (that’s “time for fun” bingo slang fans).

Clearly a lot more thought has gone into this ad than old one and other bingo adverts that simply say “You can win money”

But…

I kind of liked the costume of the old Fox but now he’s gone all Tony Manero on us (audience targeting).

And the general quality of this advert seems much lower (audience targeting).

And there’s still no Sam Fox (general good sense).

I think I do like this advert more than the old one and I expect that it will do well for Foxy Bingo but, damn it, I wanted Sam Fox!

Update

If you’re interested, Simon, from the people behind Foxy Bingo, sent me a link to a short, yet informative, video of the making of the We Are Family Foxy Bingo advert:

So, have I ever told you about the time I accidentally rubbed a Curly Wurly under my arms instead of my usual deodorant? No? Well, let’s just say this: the ladies paid me no attention whatsoever but I did have very sticky pits all day long.

Anyway, that’s neither here nor there, this post is about the new Lynx advert – The Chocolate Man:

I’ve written before of my feelings about Lynx but since then I’ve actually enjoyed a couple of their adverts (“Judas!” I hear you cry).

And with the new I’m sat on the fence a little bit.

I have this visceral and almost inherent hatred of Lynx. The fires of this hate are fanned by meeting the idiots who wear Lynx and, to a greater degree, the “The Lynx Effect” advertising campaign. Just such an offensive pile of bullshit. I know, I know. Those misogynistic types out there will be cry “It’s ironical” but that’s never, ever an escuse for demeaning over half the planet’s population.

But then…

When I see the look on that Chocolate Man’s face as parts of him are broken off, his face is licked and his arse is bitten, I just cant help but chuckle. The music too (apparently the song is called “Sweet Touch of Love” (clever) by Allen Toussaint (who?)), is just so “feel good” that it’s hard to maintain a full-on rage for the duration of the advert.

The thing that probably going to tip me towards disliking (if not full blown hating) this advert is that it’s for a chocolate scented deodorant (No really, it is).

And let’s be honest, how many men really want to smell like a Curly Wurly all day long?

Let me say this first off, I in no way think that discriminating against someone simply because they are physically disabled is acceptable but…

Using a twist on Aardman Animations “Creature Comforts” series to create “Creature Discomforts” possibly isn’t the right way to change the way people think about disability.

Particularly when you consider Spud the slug:

The real disabled man who gives a voice to Spud says: “Many people say ‘oh you’re in a wheelchair; you’re rubbish. You can’t do anything. A lot of it, it is ignorance.”

He speaks sense. But his words are coming from the mouth of a slug. In an electric wheelchair. And that completely undermines his point.

Maybe this is a clever trick by the producers of this advert to say “Put aside you prejudices about slugs/the disabled and listen to what he is saying”. If that is what they’re trying to do, it is way too subtle.

I think that this might make people change the way people think about those of us who are disabled but just maybe not in the way Leonard Cheshire would like us to.

Below there’s a version of the dogs advert (with some Spanish subtitles) and here’s the advert with Spud the slug in.

Here’s a tale for you:

I was walking through town on my lunch break the other day and a bloke, stood next to a big blue sofa and a coffee table, shouted “Excuse me mate, have you got a minute for a chat?”.

Well, I did, so I popped over and sat down.

“What do you want to chat about?” I asked the strange man.

“Oh, anything that will bring a tear to your eye for this new, very cheaply made, Kleenex advert. Why not tell me about your first love?” The strange man suggested.

“Oh! Fun-time Sally! I loved her. God, how I loved her. The playful glint in her eyes, the tenderness of her touch and her absolutely, staggeringly, massive breasts. But she broke my heart, you know?” I could already feel a tear gently forming in the corner of my eye.

The strange man sensed this and desperately probed me for more: “That’s terrible; what happened?”

“She left me for another man. Yeah, it’s true. He was a travelling peg salesman. And he made lucky heather on the side as well, you know, to cover for when the pegs weren’t selling so hot. I begged her not to go but she said he had better prospects than some dried-up writer of a second-rate blog. Who could blame her, he was quite a man. Oh, but it damaged me: I didn’t sleep so well, I started drinking heavily and I could hear her name drifting on the breeze wherever I went. ‘Fun-time Sally!’, ‘Fun-time Sally!’. Why do you mock me?! Why?!” I’ve clenched my fist and I’m shaking it despairingly at the heavens and, of course, I’m in floods of tears by now.

“And I see French people. Walking around like regular people. They don’t see each other. They only see what they want to see. They don’t know they’re French.” I’d jumped to my feet. My eyes were wide open as they could be. I felt a freedom I hadn’t felt in ages.

“Right. So. This is turning slightly weird.” the strange man sounded ever so slightly worried. He was desperately looking across the street. He pressed his finger to his ear and muttered “Get the producer over here. Now!”

I leered over him. “Have I told you about you about the spiders in my veins?” I asked.

“No. I think you should go.” the strange man handed me a tissue at arms length “Go.” He sternly repeated.

“Alright! Some people just don’t want to listen!”. I shouted through the tears as I walked away.

But that’s what you get if you stop strangers on the streets of London and ask them for a chat. Unless you’ve filtered out all the homeless/psychos/students first, of course:

So maybe it should be:

“Are people ready to let it out?
Turns out all it takes is a good listener and some very sanitised people with questionable mental health.
Oh, and some Kleenex. Apparently.”

Thanks to Jonathan Hansen and Nick Smith, who took the trouble to submit this bad ad, on the very same day. What are the chances.

NB: French People Joke © 2000 My Mate Simon’s Sister Liz

Frank Sidebottom – what’s he all about then?

Maybe he’s a Marmite comedian and there’s certainly plenty of people who love him fanatically but I’m not one of them.

I just don’t get Frank Sidebottom. I’ve never understood the joke. Why the papier mache head? Why Little Frank? Why the keyboard and songs? No, I don’t get it.

I know that this declaration might lead to people trying to tell me how great he is in the comments but, please, don’t bother. Trying to explain why you think a comedian is funny to someone who doesn’t think they’re funny is a bit like trying to explain to a friend why you fancy their Mum. They might understand but they’re never going to agree.

Frank Sidebottom is undeniably Northern though with his broad Manchester accent and a songbook full of tributes to Timperley. Which is probably why he fits in so well to the Safestyle UK adverts – a company that too is very true to it’s Northern roots.

Previous *stars* of their adverts have included Ken Morley from Northern soap opera Coronation Street, that Northern bloke who shouts “Buy One Get One Free” and Northern 80′s comedy legends Cannon and Ball:

And to be fair to Safestyle UK they’re probably making the best of a bad job. Double-glazing salesmen still have to battle with the reputation for being failed vacuum cleaner salesmen and having so few morals that they’d make the average paedophile “tut” loudly and disapprovingly shake their head. So why try too hard when you are always fighting a losing battle?

Which is possibly why the Safestyle ads always seem to be low-budget, slightly tawdry affairs (their enthusiastic use of the cringe-worthy “BOGOF” abbreviation is a case in point) but combining it with, the now very has-been, Frank Sidebottom has really sunk the adverts to a new low.

I mean, Frank Sidebottom. What’s he all about then?

Anyways, as I was saying, what I really like about your mother is the playful glint in her eyes, the tenderness of her touch and her absolutely, staggeringly, massive breasts….

(PS: I can’t find an online version of the Frank advert yet but as soon as I do, I’ll post a link to it)

In the offices of Cobbler & Shitbiscuit, Jonty has just got back on a 5 day course about literalism.

“I’m telling you guys that course has given me a grade-A, top fuel idea for the new Neurofen campaign!”

“Oh spiffo, Jonty! Let’s hear it!”

“Well, Seb, it’s for a fast acting head ache tablet, yah? But you can’t show how fast acting a drug is, can you? So let’s use a metaphor.”

“Oh, clever Jonty, clever. What’s the metaphor?”

“Wait till you hear this one: race cars”

“That is brilliant!”

“And get this: a women who, for some unexplained reason, is in charge of the car’s speed can’t tell the driver to press the big red “Go Faster” button because she’s got a headache! But she takes some Nurofen tablets, presses a computer screen, the car goes faster and we win the race!”

“Oh, I tell you, Jonty, this is your best work yet!”

I think you’ll find that that’s a pretty accurate account of how this advert came about.

Judge for yourself.

Over the past year or so Magnet have been *re-branding* themselves as Kitchen Design Gurus.

Here’s how they decided to do this: You take an object that defines you along to one of their stores and, because they’re so great at designing kitchens, they’ll design a kitchen for you around that object.

What. A. Brilliant. Idea.

Except Kitchen Designer is up there with Monkey Wrangler and, ooh, let’s say Celebrity Beauty Editor as not really a real job.

On top of this most people don’t have kitchens the size of Earls Court meaning that there’s very little scope when it comes to designing your kitchen. Which is why designing a kitchen is something that your average 3 year old could do with their set of plastic blocks.

Magnet are obviously all too aware of these facts, so their Kitchen Designers are actually masters of “Stating the Bleeding Obvious”.

In previous adverts we’ve been told:

“Corkscrew! That’s what I took in to Magnet because I like wine!”.
“Why don’t we put in a wine rack for you” the Magnet Kitchen Designer suggested. Clever.

“Chopsticks! That’s what I took in to Magnet because I like Chinese food!”.
“Why don’t we put in a wok burner on your stove” the Magnet Kitchen Designer suggested. Inspired.

In the latest set of adverts things take a turn for the surreal:

“I told Magnet I need some space to prepare food”.
“Why don’t we put in a special food preparation area” the Magnet Kitchen Designer suggested.
“Do you mean a *worktop*?” I asked the Magnet Kitchen Designer.
“We’ve got a smart one here!” said the Magnet Kitchen Designer.

Yes, it seems that Magnet have not only re-branded themselves but they’ve also re-branded everything in a kitchen that makes a kitchen a kitchen.

So in future adverts look out for people who Magnet sell:

• Special foodstuffs heating device (cooker)
• Special compartment to deposit vegetable peelings (bin)
• Special water-tight metal area to clense dirty plates (kitchen sink)

Listen here anyone thinking that Magnet Kitchen Designers are geniuseses: If a kitchen doesn’t have worktops, a cooker, cupboards, a sink etc. it’s not really a kitchen, it’s just another room.

So here’s my advice if you want a new kitchen, get down to the Early Learning Centre, buy some plastic blocks and have a bit of fun!

Just don’t kid yourself your an interior design genius.

Judge for yourself.

Here’s a quick question for you:

Q: How do you know when your wife’s having an affair?

A: When you come home in the middle of the day and you catch yourself telling your wife about Tiscali broadband.

Yep, if you talk to your wife about the connection speed (or any other feature) of Tiscali broadband then your wife will definitely, guaranteed start having an affair that very second. Guaranteed.

Judge for yourself.

Thanks to Samuel for submitting this bad ad and including the hilarious summary “The husband’s acting is turbo shit!”.

Christ, I hate these SMA adverts! They really make my blood boil.

Not because I give a rat “with an increased risk of asthma” ass about whether bottled milk is better or worse for a baby than breast milk but because the ads portray everything that is still wrong with the perceived roles of mothers and fathers:

These are the words of conceited, self-satisfied dad:

“I promise to do at least my fair share of nappy changing and night feeding.”

“I promise to tell you often how much I love you…”

Well, whoop-dee-doo! Give yourself a medal!

I can’t stand people who expect congratulations for doing something that they should be doing anyway. It’s not the 1950s any more, so get the message: it’s your kid too, you arrogant fuck!

What’s that? You’re whinging about having a job? Have you tried looking after a kid for 6 months? It’s not a fucking holiday; so get over yourself and do your share.

I told you SMA makes my blood boil.