Just a couple of days after the shocking partial breast revelation revelations in Beyoncé’s Heat perfume advert, the BBC have news of an advert that’s even more sickening – the John Lewis Christmas 2010 Advert:

So far the advert above has drawn nearly 150 complaints to the ASA and, that ‘must have’ accessory of any self respecting/congratulatory campaign group, the Facebook Page has more than 1700 “likages”.

What’s got these people foaming at the mouth is the scene of the young boy in his snowy garden, hanging a stocking on his Scottish Deerhound’s kennel but not inviting the poor fur-covered blighter indoors. And it’s this simple act of giving the “evolved from wolves” dog in a kennel a Christmas gift from J-Lews that the complainers claim “glamourises dog neglect”.

That’s right, it’s the whole ridiculous VW Polo singing dog affair all over again! And yes, I accept your point, it would be more glamourous if there were Diamonique dog collar in that stocking.

Except this time it seems somehow worse than the VW singing dog. Because the degree of anger this advert has caused shouldn’t be underestimated. The BBC website reported that Beverley Cuddy, editor of Dogs Today, said (Now, this really is blogging of the highest quality, folks – reporting on a report which itself reported on a report! Bravo me!)

“We are horrified by this. We have already had people tell us they can’t visit their father for Christmas because he thinks it is alright to leave the dog outside in the shed, because it’s alright for John Lewis.”

Honestly, someone wont visit their own father because he claims he’ll do something to a dog that he’s seen in an advert? Now, come on, that’s barking!

Cuddy’s not alone though. Similarly the creator of the Facebook hate page says the ad sends “the wrong message about the conditions that it’s acceptable to keep a dog”. Or as they’re better known “dog kennels”.

And, as a dog owner myself, I completely sympathise with the campaign. I was so outraged by the advert that I made an effigy of John Lewis himself but rather than burning it I let my dog have sex with its leg. Repeatedly. I was also moved to ‘direct action’ – as one of the ring leaders responsible for “ragging” the students from Puppy University who were, until my arrival, making a mostly peaceful and well mannered protest outside the John Lewis Solihull store. Although there was some inevitability about it, I’m sure my various anti-inadequately sized kennel slogans helped turn it into a dirty protest.

But, in a rare moment of seriousness on TWA, I think that I and the complainers need to be careful.

Because thanks to the largely over the top response to this advert, combined with an interpretation that’s most likely at odds with the wider public, it’s all too easy to ridicule the people behind the complaints and the campaign. Of course, that’s not to condone animal cruelty nor to say these people don’t feel genuine concern. But the organisers of this John Lewis hate campaign mustn’t allow their feelings, the hyperbole they’re using to express those feelings and the publicity their campaign has gained to make people who care about animals appear “proper SuBo mental”.

Because that could undermine the work done by animal welfare groups and, Heaven forfend, might even make the role of the ASA seem farcical!

I must confess that I didn’t actually see Beyoncé’s Heat perfume advert – in which you can see *part* of Beyoncé’s breast for a second or two! Ding dong! - on TV before it was banned but fortunately all 14 members of the Sister Mary Chastity Society (East Grinstead Chapter) did.

And not only did they see it, they took umbrage at it, they picked the phone to the Advertising Standards Authority and they complained about it. So well done with that.

Not really. It wasn’t the uber-prudes of the Sister Mary Chastity Society – be it East Grinstead or any other Chapter – who complained but regular uptight folk like you and me. But I don’t have an issue with people complaining (I know, I know, very magnanimous of me), that’s what the ASA is there for. If you thought I objected to people objecting you are wrong.

But here’s what the ASA said about the complaints they received:

“Several complainants had told us their children had seen the ad broadcast during the middle of the day around family programmes.”

And that’s something I really do object to: parents that delegate the care of their children, during the middle of the day, to the TV and then have the nerve to complain about the job it’s doing:

“Not only did the TV expose the kids to part of Beyoncé’s breast but it forgot to make them their dinner and it didn’t changed the youngest’s nappy despite it very obviously being dirty!”

But this hypocrisy was enough for the ASA to ban the advert from being shown before 7:30 in the evening. Interestingly they also described the advert as “unsuitable to be seen by young children” which, coincidentally, is exactly how I feel about most of the programmes shown during the middle of the day. After all, if you really want to disturb your children with some inappropriately-timed sexually-provocative behaviour forget about Beyoncé adverts – it’s Loose Women you want them to see.

Anyway, enough of that “think of the children” nonsense. This is TVs Worst Adverts not Britain Most Hypocritical Parents so here’s your chance to see an exceedingly sweaty Beyoncé (on Heat) writhing around, moaning and, at one point, briefly exposing part of her breast.

And seeing as this is a webular blog, you can watch it during the middle of the day if you so wish. I just hope, for their sakes, there aren’t any children online right now…

You know what it’s like: you’re a young guy, home alone, with just a Nintendo Wii and your 3 band mates for company. And with a little time, and presumably a lot of lube, on your hands it’s only natural that you’d hold a Wanking Olympics.

We’d all do the same.

But even so, it’s a little worrying to see just how many of JLS’s Nintendo Wii Party’s involve them simulating furious masturbation.

Here’s the boys “Chopping their onions”:

Here they are “Whipping their ponies”:

And here’s the money shot, the boys racing to “yank their flag”:

Dirty boys! Dirty!

Here’s one of life’s greatest puzzles – How do you increase your market share in the meal solutions category among “Hedonistic Urbanites”? Hmm, it’s a toughie, I think you’ll agree.

Well, those fearless souls at Giovanni Rana are having another crack at solving it.

The more unfortunate amongst you might remember their previous, and frankly risible, ”Citizens for Fresh Pasta Justice” advert featuring Strictly Come Dancing’s resident sack of potatoes/pantomime dame, Ann Widdecombe. Seemingly though Giovanni Rana thought that Ann wasn’t quite inappropriate enough a figure to flog fresh pasta so for their new ad they’ve gone one better: the reverend Tim Lovejoy.

You see, if the internet’s to be believed (and I see no reason why it’s not…) Tim’s quite a divisive fellow. Many people apparently think that he’s no more than an arrogant, rude and self-absorbed man who’s got the face of a schoolboy having his first erection. But, genuinely, genuinely, he’s got more in his kitbag than that. To say he simply exists to make Danny Baker and Chris Evans seem like talented presenters and all-round decent blokes is just cruel. He’s got a lot of… a lot of… erm…

Ooh. Sorry, I’ve completely forgotten what I was going to type there.

Anyway, back to the ad and Tim’s up to his usual laddish tricks. He’s got a *friend* coming for dinner but he’s burnt his roast – did you learn nothing on Sunday morning cookery and lifestyle magazine format TV show “Something for the Weekend”, Tim? - and is knocking on the door of Sofia, his unfeasibly attractive Italian neighbour, desperate for a helping hand. Sofia is only too happy to oblige with some fresh pasta that blessedly takes only 60 seconds to cook – a fact illustrated by the unusually upward counting egg-timer. Yet despite it only taking 1 minute to cook, despite it only requiring a pan of boiling water, despite it being for Tim and his *friend*, Sofia cooks it there and then for Tim, plates it up and lays it on her table.

Fortunately Tim’s *friend* is spared a disgustingly cold plate of soggy pasta because this whole scene is a cunning ruse by Tim to get both a free dinner made by and then the pants off the unfeasibly attractive Italian neighbour.

Ha! Take that, romance!

So. Where to begin?

Tim is so badly miscast for this role – “Hedonistic Urbanite” and “Lad” are not the same thing. And whilst his abilities as a present might be up for debate but there’s no questioning his complete lack of acting talent. Which leads to he and Sofia having as much charisma between them as one of the bolognese tortelloni that’s been cooked for very nearly 2 minutes.

But potentially the worst is yet to come. Because in the wholly unnecessary behind the scenes ‘making of’ video on YouTube, Tim suggests that Giovanni Rana are going to try to do a BT just as BT tried to do a Goldblend. So baton down the hatches, it looks like we’ve got another storm to weather.

Whilst I was on my extended sabbatical it seems it’s become accepted fact that the Yeo Valley advert – Come on, you must have seen it! The one with the Yeo Boyz and featuring Lil Massey. No? Really? – is the “Bestest advert on tele, yeah, since the one with, like, the drumming monkey in it, innit”.

But I’m not so convinced.

No, what bothers me about this ad is the feeling it – and the whole Rapping Farmers campaign – is based solely on “Yeo” being pronounced “Yo”. And rappists like to say “Yo”. Quite a lot. As funny ideas go, it’s so flimsy that even Armstrong & Miller would think twice about turning it into a 2 minute routine – 2 minutes!

Note to reader: Of course, I’m no stranger to basing work on flimsy ideas, it’s true. But the big difference being that a terrible TV’s Worst Advert entry only costs me the time it takes to write, 300 pissed of subscribers and the 2 crates of Babycham to wash down the shame.

No, for me, this advert isn’t just in a different flimsy league, it’s playing a whole different flimsy sport. And it’s forgotten its flimsy kit.

That’s not to say it isn’t well made – some hip-hop producer or other was involved, I seem to remember reading… somewhere – and as I said before it’s already being hailed as the “greatest advert ever” – even by some of the more sentient of YouTube commenters.

But for all the coverage it’s got Yeo Valley and all the online views, as a representation of the Yeo Valley and the organic farming community it’s so cringe-worthy it’s little more than a really long and expensive updating of the “Young Farmers Do It With Their Wellies On” bumper sticker. But not as funny. Because its combination of premium brand organic yoghurt and chav-hop just makes it so completely unpalatable. As unpalatable as a pot of organic yoghurt that’s been left on a radiator for a fortnight.

Only it’s slightly cheesier. Huh. And more stomach churning. Huh, huh. And more blood curdling. Huh, huh, huh. And it turns your phlegm pro-biotic. Huh… Erm, I’ve got carried away with dairy puns, haven’t I?

Anyway, big up your chest and watch the cow’s mess:

So after the ads overwhelming positive response, I’m sure this wont be the most popular entry on TWS but I’ve got a message for the dissenters : “AYHSMW” – that’s “All You Haterz Suck My Wurzels” obviously:

Bumpkin ‘Till I Dies.

RED Driving School has previous on TV’s Worst Adverts. A post that has drawn some pretty angry reader comments about the company (have you people not read the comments policy?). And further to our hard-hitting, research-free, blog-based rant RED (“Always in capitals – the branding’s the cornerstone of our success”) Driving Schools have become something of a cause célèbre for light-weight, bald-headed, tv-based consumer programmes.

But clearly having learnt their lesson after all this negative publicity, the latest advert from RED really reins in the hyperbole and simply promises us “a better life” if we become a driving instructor. It’s good to know we’re not subjected to that nonsense about choosing your own hours and earning 30 grand a year. What’s that? They do that too? Just with slightly different words? Oh.

Anyways, it’s now generally accepted that the paradise, the spotty-faced milk and honey RED Driving School and that dead-eyed Anita Dobson wannabe previously promised us might not be quite so peachy. So let’s not go over old ground again. K? K?

And as it happens there seems to be a far more worrying issue raised by this latest advert – a shocking lack of knowledge when it comes to the basics of the highway code. The website being pimped by the ad is go-red.co.uk.

Go red?

No, no, no, Red. Stop red. Go green – and flashing amber if it’s safe to do so.

Tsk, tsk.

I had a Holland’s Pie the other day and although it was, as some might say, proper tasty there was one negative, the pastry had a really long ginger hair in it. Now where on Earth could that have come from?

Not really, that’s all lies. I never even seen an ‘Olland’s Pies pie.

I suspect my complete lack of Holland pie sightings is, after seeing the advert above, due to the fact:

• I’m not from the North.
• I don’t live in the 1850′s.

Of course, I’m sure this advert is trying to make me nostalgic for a simpler, more gravy smothered time. A time when proper pies were made by proper child-loving pie men albeit with slightly lax food hygiene standards. Sadly what it actually leaves me thinking is the people from’t'North – and possibly those proper tasty Holland’s Pies – are 160 years out-of-date.

And really, who honestly wants a pie that’s 160 years out-of-date? Proper or not.

If you locked an infinite number of ad executives in a room for an infinite amount of time, would one of them eventually understand the concept of “dumb luck”?

Seemingly not.

What’s a mildly less soul destroyingly shit way to spend an evening than watching a “sit-com” performed in mime?

That’s right, it’s Wink Bingo!

Anyone fancy a wager as to how many times the words “Wank Bingo more like!” are going to be left in the comments?

Just For Men have previous when it comes to making fucking awful tv adverts.

But I’ve always been a fan of bullies who play on the irrational, insecurities of others by pushing a lie in a calous attempt to manipulate them which is why I enjoy this advert so:

Or as Becky, who submitted this bad ad, puts it:

“This is possibly the most awful, irritating, full-of-shit advert I have ever seen. I mean, really!

If you have a nice fake salt-and-pepper ‘do, the birds – who, by the way, are way too young for you – won’t be able to resist your mix of energy and experience.

Yeah right!”

To be fair to Just For Men though, it is a tricky balance – on the one hand you leave your hair grey and it drains all your energy but on the other you dye your hair and you spend all your energy shagging a string of beautiful, younger women. Either way, when you get to 45, the best you can hope for is lying in bed all day with out the strength to get one up.

It’s not easy being a middle-aged, single man, it really isn’t.

Jesus has very kindly taken some time out from being “the son of God” and all that to submit this bad ad:

Obviously, this advert is knowingly and deliberately awful – much like the Pot Noodle itself – but it’s on all the time which, as Jesus puts it, make watching again:

Like being punched in the head by Arnold Schwarzenegger.

And then he rapes you in the ear.

With a knife.

And as for the Flight of the Conchords style one, well…

Virgin Trains have always traded on the sniggering schoolboy-ish thought that you’ll be “riding a virgin to Chipping Norton and back” but I’ve just sat open-mouthed watching an edited version of this advert for Virgin Trains – with that Robyn Addison from Survivors in it – in which the 3 scenes of “Becky” ogling the men in the field, the bottled water turning into gushing champagne and the train enters the “tunnel of love” are shown back-to-back that left me… well, speechless.

Is that..?

Did that just…?

Is that a euphemism for…?

Sadly, in the longer version, not only aren’t these scenes played one after the other but we’re also treated to a glimpse of Stoke-on-Trent which really underplays just how much of a sexagasmic experience riding on a Virgin train actually is.

Shame.

Here’s another lovely bad ad submitted by Matthew:

Remember being a teenager… *sigh* those were the days.

Wait, no they weren’t! For the socially inept and unattractive it was bloody awful.

But while I work on my Computer Science degree and plan on how I’ll make all my childhood foes pay with my nerdiness, Oxy are doing what advertisers have always done. Selling things people don’t need by making them feel crap!

Unlike Lynx and Clearasil however, they seem to be desperate to beat their competitors to making an ad that just consists of 20 seconds of a loud man shouting insults at us followed by a 10 second sex scene.

Nearly there guys!

Cheers, Matthew.

There aren’t many things that will get a policeman simulating oral sex in the street these days – except, of course, for the sight of a Tunnocks Caramel Wafer lorry:

Or as Cat, who submitted this bad ad, summarises:

I think this is an accidentally aired GCSE project.

The use of Comic Sans at the end is particularly craptastic.

But even though it does look like someone’s Media Studies course work gone wrong, I think it’s important we’re not too harsh on the makers of this advert – as they’ve clearly had to spend 2, maybe even 3, weeks’ pocket money on it. That’s nearly 10 Tunnocks Caramel Wafers they could have bought instead! Poor loves.

Oh well, 3 weeks miming eating a chocolate coated caramel wafer bar is a price worth paying for this masterpiece.

Nice one, Cat.

I think we can all agree that nothing evokes the spirit of the Swinging 60′s more than the film “The Italian Job” and the preservation of wood.

Which is why whenever I hear Cuprinol’s version of “The Self Preservation Society” song – from that quintessential 1960′s film – with its new, far more apt lyrics about the preservation of wood, I’m instantly transported back to that technicolored Bohemia:

Oh no, hang on, no I’m not…

But what I do particularly love about this advert is the fact there’s only one idea in it – if you change “self preservation” to “wood preservation” it could be about varnish and still fit the tune.

Brilliant.

So from the moment the hapless actors burst out of the garden shed – each one desperately trying to out “Dick Van Dyke” the one in front but only to succeed in becoming inexplicably more twatish – singing those blood curdlingly awful reworked lyrics to the moment of blessed relief and this horror show of an advert finishes, Cuprinol are banking on the fact that changing “self” to “wood” is, in some way, amusing.

Which, in a “Repeatedly being kicked in the genitalia by Jim Davidson whilst watching Schindler’s List on loop for 7 days” kind of way, it is.

Well done, Cuprinol. Well done.

I had a bowl of Oatibix once – but not at a roadside cafe, obviously, because they don’t serve Oatibix.

Although eating it didn’t make me repeatedly sing the chorus to My Sharona with two of my simpering mates, I did below the hits of Marilyn Manson down the toilet bowl latter that day.

I wonder if it’s connected?

Thanks to CovertJellyfish for submitting this bad ad.

Here’s the latest advert from Hovis:

You know what it’s like, you’re under pressure at work, you’ve got a busy social life, your family are driving you mental, so you don’t drink water for a couple of weeks only to bloody well wind up dead!

And let’s be honest, being dead makes you feel pretty bad, doesn’t it?

But thanks to Volvic – and their lovely scientists – all that tiresome “dying of dehydration” can now be avoided. Yes, they must have been working double shifts in the labs to discover that drinking water can – hold on to your underpants – make you *feel* *better*.

As scientific break-throughs go it’s really is up there with evolution and relativity, isn’t it? 

Now, this is big news but Volvic aren’t fools. They realised that a scientific discovery of this magnitude is going to be pretty hard for the average Nigel to swallow. That’s why they employed Jimmy!

Don’t be fooled by the fact that Jimmy looks a bit of a spod. Maybe he’s not cut his hair in, ooh, 10 years and maybe he wears a headband when doing unspecified sports-type exercise. So what? Because despite his dreadful hair and dress sense fool you, Jimmy’s just like you and me. And if Jimmy’s doing the Volvic 14 Day Challenge then so should you!

But he’s off to a nervy start. When first faced with the Challenge he’s naturally intimidated by its scale (“That’s a lot of water” *gulp*!) but with the golden carrot of *feeling* *better* dangling in front of him he’s prepared to give “drinking water” a bash.

Hoorah for you, Jimmy!

And the challenge is a true voyage of discovery for Jimmy because, despite still being blissfully unaware on day 6 that water is readily available almost everywhere in the country, by day 10 he’s found out that drinking water is nearly as easy to do as eating food!

And by day 14, when he’s playing that unspecified sport – one that’s played in a cage, requires a baseball glove and an exceedingly camp run – Jimmy’s completed the challenge and, would you credit it, he *feels* *better*. 

Hmm.

I hate to be the one to piss in your volcan mineral water pool but this whole 14 Day Challenge is such a horribly transparent marketing ploy (“Hey if we convince them they need to drink 1.5 litres a day for 2 weeks then that’s 21 x 1 litre bottles @ £0.63 equals… billions!”).

To call drinking water ever day for 2 weeks a challenge is beyond patronising (the only people who would fail to complete are those who can’t be trusted with scissors, not even paper ones).

To make the unmeasurable claim that completing will make you *feel* *better* is so Mickey Mouse that it’s not even funny.

Finally, the benfits of drinking lots of water have been debunked - once you’re re-hydrated, you’re re-hydrated. The rule isn’t the more the drink the better it is for you. And, unless your mother was a camel, there’s no bnefit to drinking a lot of water for 2 weeks if you’ve quenched your thirst after one glass of water. 

So come on Volvic, cut the Jimmy crap and bring back the far less scientifically questionable talking dinosaurs.

This advert for RED Driving School features a few of my advertisment pet hates: misleading claims, actors pretending to be real people and terrible, terrible puns:

“You don’t need experience, just the DRIVE to do something new” the advert man tells us.

Brilliant.

“So RUN OVER to the phone and call us now because all the INDICATORS show you’re on TRACK to a career in the FAST LANE. But don’t REVERSE your decision [to become a driving instructor] or I’ll have to BOOT you in the face – really hard.”

Doesn’t it sound like being a driving instructor really is a laugh a minute?

Amazingly, despite all of the hilarious driving-based puns, my favourite part of the ad though is the actress’ particularly convincing performance. Those cold, dead eyes say so much, don’t they? As she stares dolefully into the camera, they’re screaming “I was going to be the next Anita Dobson but look at me now!”.

Poor love.

She’s the one who comes out with the laughable claim that by becoming a RED driving instructor you can “choose your own working hours.”:

“Now I fit my career around my family life – it’s totally flexible”

Of course, what with this being TV’s Worst Adevrts, I haven’t done any actual research but I reckon that the reality of it is that most of the “over a million people” learning to drive each year are 17 and go to school or college. So there’s probably going to be a lot of evening and weekend work – at least, there will be if you want to make that £30,000 a year.

But don’t worry, you can see your family some other time so let’s just gloss over that fact with another terrible pun:

“If you’ve got a licence then we’ve got the KEYS – to a new career”

Oh, you driving instructors are such wags. You really are.

It’s interesting – or at least it is if you’re a loser with too much time on your hands – how someone (I am going to name names here, it’s Paul Merton) who is the God father of UK improv comedy and the king of the witty repost can be so very funny off the cuff and so very terrible at reading from a script.

Two cases in point – those God aweful Hancock remakes and Paul Merton in China. In both of which he proved he has the delivery of a doped up Jose Luis Hernandez when reading his pre-prepared material.

That doesn’t make him a bad man, of course. He’s not Ross Kemp for instance.

But I can’t help but think that everytime he stumbles his way through the supposedly off the cuff “Not very mobile for a phone” Paul Merton dies a little bit inside.

Please don’t do these any more, Paul. Please.

Note: Stephen Fry has always been a whorebag and it seems to have done him no harm so he can keep going.