As I mentioned before, I’m hoping to find some new writers to join the team here are TVs Worst Adverts.

And I want that writer to be you *.

To help me in my quest I’d like you to submit an advert review for any advert that is currently showing on UK TV.

Your review can be as long or as short as you think it needs to be (Note: Don’t make it too long, I get bored very easily) and can be in whatever style you want.

Although it might not be obvious on first reading TVs Worst Adverts, this site is supposed to be *humorous* (no really, it is) and I’d like the new writers to continue in this vein. So submissions that are at least vaguely amusing will do better than ones that simply say things like “Davina McCall’s pointy nose. What’s that about?” or “I hate Howard. He has a shiny head and can’t sing“, for example.

Along with your review it would be really helpful if you could also include a link to an online version of the advert. Here’s a few good places to look if you’re struggling with this:

• YouTube
• TellyAds
• Visit4Info

Once you’re happy with your review please email it to me here at TVs Worst Adverts HQ.

Here’s a few more things to bear in mind before entering:

• I’ve not set a limit on how many people I’m looking for, if I think your submission was good enough then you’re in.
• If you’re one of the lucky few who’s asked to join the team, there’ll be no pressure to write something every day. Just a few times a month will be great - this doesn’t have to ruin your life or anything.
• You wont get paid for it. Your reward will be seeing you’re name in light grey at the top of each post you submit - and any dividend payouts should I ever float TWA on the stock market.
• You might get to go for drinks with me one day. I may even buy them.

The hunt will run for 2 weeks until the 10th September 2008. That should give you plenty of time to channel your rage into a hilarious piece about Davina’s pointy nose and Howard’s shiny head.

OK, so I think that’s about it. If you’ve got any questions, pop them in the comments below.

Good luck, Silky.

* Subject to you not being totally mental. Other conditions do apply.

Here’s an older Vision Express advert (but still from their “What Do I Want To See” series):

What really cheeses (that’s right, I said “cheeses”) me off about these adverts is the implication that the opinions of people who *uses their eyes as part of their job* (you know, a photographer, a pilot, a peeping Tom, that sort of thing) are in some more important than those of us Stevie Wonder types groping our way through the blackness that is lives.

“I’d like to see an eye exam that can test my eyes 100 different ways” babbles Mark Whitney.

Why 100?

Why not 1,000,000 ways. Surely that eye exam has got to be a thousand times betterer than your pathetic little 100 ways.

What relevance has that number actually got to the quality your vision?

Absolutely none, that’s what.

Anyways, now I’m in the mood for ranting, here’s what I’d like from an eye exam:

1. I’d like to see an eye test where the optician doesn’t snort on my face when he’s stood inappropriately close to my face shining a light in my eyes.
2. I’d like to see an eye test where the optician hasn’t drunk a bath tub full of coffee before standing in appropriately close to my face.
3. I’d like to see an eye test that doesn’t last 30 minutes on top of the 15 that I’ve been waiting even though I’ve made an appointment for a weekday.

So, Vision Express when do I get to do my advert?

Anyone else want to share what they’d like to see from an eye test?

Did you remember to have breakfast this morning?

For your sake, I hope you did. Because God only knows what might happen to you if didn’t.

At least, God only knows what might happen to you if Dame (my 3rd favourite Dame after Thora Hird and Hilda Bracket) Kelly Holmes’ apocalyptic breakfast-skipping vision of the world is to be believed.

Here’s the shocking evidence Dame Kelly presents us with in here fight to, like, make us eat, err, stuff in the mornings:

A) A boy waits at a bus stop. As he stands to get on the bus THE CONTENTS OF HIS BAG FALLS TO THE FLOOR! The true horror of this event is indescribable.

“He obviously skipped breakfast this morning” tut-tuts Dame Kelly.

B) A woman repeatedly tries to operate a photocopier even though IT ISN’T PLUGGED IN! Oh dear, Lord, No. Noooooo!

“She skipped breakfast too” Kelly smugly informs us.

And although it’s easy to poo-poo Kelly’s advice, after all she’s athletics’ David Beckham, she’s more wooden then the New Forest and she’s wearing a track-suit (how else would we possibly remember Dame Kelly Holmes used to be a sportswoman if it weren’t for her wearing a track suit?) that she stole from the 1970’s, it’s actually very good advice indeed.

Don’t believe me, well you should.

Because on the day Gary Glitter became a paedophile he skipped his breakfast. Yeah, that’s right. His dietary imbalance directly lead to his desire to touch little girls. I’m sure this will come as little comfort to the victims of the Glitter Hands but had he eaten just a single slice of toast they would have been safe.

OK, I made that one up, but this one is true:

One day in August 2004 I skipped breakfast. And ever since that fateful day I’ve had to watch repeated interviews with and listen to inane commentary by Dame Kelly Holmes. Please stop licking your lips! God that dress is inappropriate! Put those eyeballs away!

If only I’d been more of a Crunchy Nutter that day. If only…

Any way, as an Olympian if there’s one thing Dame Kelly Holmes knows how to do it’s run really quickly round a slightly elongated circle. And, as a corporate shill, if there’s one thing that Dame Kelly Holmes knows it’s that if you skip breakfast you *may* miss out on energy for your brain and that eating a balanced breakfast (not just Frosties on Pop Tarts then?) *can* help you perform better.

I know this too because the tiny white text at the bottom of the screen tells us “Research shows that people who eat breakfast tend to perform better in the morning”.

Yeah, research - possibly done by Scientists, possibly done by primary school children (who may or may not have eaten breakfast that day) - categorically shows us that people who can be bothered to shove food down their offence-hole in the mornings *tend* to perform better.

If you’re uncertain as to what “tend” actually means I can tell you. “Tend” means “We couldn’t really prove anything for sure”.

So go on, have a bowl of Corn Flakes every morning and you *might* get better at “zipping things up” and you *could* perform better at “photo copying stuff”.

One thing you’ll know for sure though is that Dame Kelly Holmes won’t be judging you as you fail hopelessly at even the simplest of everyday tasks - you non-Olympian, breakfast-skipping loser.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter how much you love to hate TV adverts.

Because sometimes there are just too many pigs to wank off down at the sausage factory.

So sometimes you struggle to tell the World your thoughts on the latest advertising hate-crime to invade your home.

Which is why, in a week( or so)’s time, I’ll be launching a nationwide (and maybe even internationwide, who knows?) hunt to find some new writers for the UK’s leading and, let’s be honest, funniest TV-based advertisement criticising blog - TV’s Worst Adverts.

This hunt will undoubtedly be as popular as this year’s X-Factor but without the ridiculously over the top Geordie accent. Which is why I’m pulling my trousers up a little closer to my arm pits and hoping someone walks through the double doors who looks the spit for Sinitta.

I just need to pin down some ground rules for the hunt (”Use no more than 16 “cunt”s in a row unless absolutely necessary” etc) but once I’m done the hunt will begin.

So, in the mean time, keep one on the offencebox and one eye on this blog.

Cheers, Silky.

There are few things I enjoy watching more on TV than a deer with lovely pert breast indulging in some sex play with a bear in a very small pair of pants.

Except maybe watching a whole menagerie of anthropomorphised and scantily clad animals performing a saucy dance routine.

Yes, that’s the one.

And I gets a right thirst on from watching that, I tell you.

Those French are mental, aren’t they?

Thanks to Cath and Dave Newman for submitting this bad ad.

As we all know, in the list of important things in life in modern Britain, cleanliness comes second only to Godliness - just ahead of cappuccino-liness and complain-liness.

But on the flip side of this, also in modern Britain it’s becoming increasingly difficult to stay clean of both body and mind.

Walk down any city street and you’ll be wading knee deep through dog turds and choking on bendy-bus exhaust fumes.

Turn on the telly and in between the endless programs of violence, profanity and semi-nudity (or the Olympic Games as they’re more popularly known) there are graphic scenes of men kissing each other.

Disgusting.

No, if you want to get to Heaven now-a-days, the only sensible solution is to lock yourself and your whole family safely in the cupboard under the stairs.

But God, wouldn’t it be terrible if mindlessly following this strict Godliness/cleanliness doctrine turned us and our children (think of the children) into unfeeling, blocky robots from the 1970’s?

TV’s Worst Adverts agrees with Persil’s sentiment that you’ve got to let your kids have some freedom to play and enjoy themselves without the fear that they’ll be run over by binge-drinking, illegal-immigrant on a joy ride at the tax payers expense or being raped in the ear by the local gang of paedophiles but…

If dirt is so good Persil, why don’t we just leave it on our clothes as a sort of badge of honour?

Because you’d go out of business, that’s why.

So dirt is good people but, please, wash it off ever once in a while will you?

Thanks to Alex and Keith for submitting this bad ad.

And a special thanks to Littlefishey for their amusing words.

While I’m on an Olympic sponsorship theme, here’s the advert from Omega:

If George Clooney had his way this advert would never have been shown on our teles (something to do with China vetoing the United Nations’ attempts to force Sudan to allow peacekeepers into the region. Isn’t that just so typical of them?).

But it seems that the power of the Olympic sponsorship deal is greater even than the power of everyone’s favourite people’s Champion and Hollywood bore, George Clooney.

Which magically means we get to watch (see what I did there?…) Omega make the mighty claims that:

“We have the ability to stop time.”

“And to let it run.”

Now I can’t help but think that just because they’ve been the official Olympic timekeepers since 1932 Omega have gotten a little too big for their boots.

Because if you’re honest though Omega, it’s more the second one that the first one isn’t it.

In reality, you have a man, or more likely a computer - putting another honest hard-working proletariat out of a job (wait until Clooney hears about that one) who can stop a watch.

Not time itself.

Come on, you don’t really have any involvement on a universal level, do you?

But then again, if they they did how would we know?

Hang on, why am I suddenly completely naked with full make-up (which I must say has given my skin a dewy glow)?

Not really.

That’s nothing to do with Omega - I always write advert reviews dressed like that.

Stop time? Honestly…

Over the next few weeks I’ll try and get as many of these up as I can find on the Tube - any old company cashing in on their sponsorship of the Beijing 2008 Olympic games.

Here’s Scottish Widows’ effort:

You might think it odd that Scottish Widows, a life insurance company, are sponsoring the Olympic Games but if I remember rightly it was Baron de Coubertin who coined the Olympic ideal:

“Swifter, Higher, Stronger and 20% Off Stake Holder Pensions If You Apply Online”.

Wasn’t it?

Following on from the great DFS - Nickleback crap off we had last month, here is the advert that you voted the most ear-bleedingly, eyeball poppingly bad of the two DFS puked up on our screens.

Enjoy!