There’s some shithouse ads on right now – apparently the fact that we have no good TV shows on during summer means we don’t need any decent commercials either.
The shit car ad with the cats. Fucked if I know what car this is for, but it’s shit and I’m not going to buy one ever. Not that I can afford it anyway. The ad starts off with some kind of thieving heist, by people with cat heads. What follows is a Matrix-style kung-fu extravaganza, followed by one of the cats driving away. Get fucked, stupid cat ad.
The GIO ad with the retarded couple annoys the piss out of me. The husband drives his new, bright, shiny sports car into the driveway. Wifey says, “What the motherfuck is this?” He says, “It’s an investment.” She says, “Give us a drive then.” He says, “Nein. What about our insurance? What if you crash? We’ll lose our fucking premiums, bitch!” She fights her way through all the great aspects of their insurance before he finally hands over the keys. This couple would be a hoot to do grocery shopping with. “Let’s get Corn Flakes.” “But Nutri Grain has five vitamins… AND iron!” “I don’t like Nutri Grain.” “It’s 30 cents cheaper.” “I’m allergic to it and it will make my neck explode.” “You also get 12 grams more in Nutri Grain.” “I’ll die if I eat it.” “...” “…” “…” “…” “Fuck it, just buy your fucking Nutri Grain.”
Foxtel ads are apparently saving people money. It still actually costs money to have Foxtel, yet the savings you’ll get are seemingly astounding. I’m not sure how much more affordable it is than, say, free-to-air television, but some people honestly need to save money on free TV by installing a satellite dish with monthly charges.
Those AAMI ads with the ginger ninja kids shit me. What is wrong with AAMI at the moment? I liked the ad with that chick who was trying to get engaged to Todd and go to Paris on a honeymoon for $233, despite my hatred for its flawed mathematics. All of a sudden, we’ve got these evil rangas telling their mum to stop dressing them alike. People who make ads for AAMI need to stop smoking crack. Creepy fucking kids.
Napisan or Omo shit – I can’t remember which cleaning goo it’s for, but there’s a kid who keeps asking “why” to his mum about everything in the world. Eventually, the questions turn to why she uses Omo or Napisan or whatever the fuck it is. “Because it cleans shit.” “Why?” “Because the enzymes work like fucking madmen to get rid of stains.” “Why?” Mum is stumped. Enter Napisan/Omo person. “The enzymes work like fucking madmen to get rid of stains,” she says. The kid seems pleased with that answer, despite the fact that it was the same one his mum just gave! STUPID FUCKING NAPISAN/OMO SHIT. Go to hell.
Most McDonalds ads these days automatically go into the “shit” category. Some of them have a scrap of potential, but they fall flat with poor acting or direction. I know, I’m talking about the direction of McDonalds ads, but seriously, it’s an issue that needs to be sorted. The one that comes to mind is for the new Seared Chicken Burger. Looks as dry as a desert goat, just quietly. Random Cool Guy sits down with his burger and sings, “Chicken!” as he is quite pleased with his lunch. I often sing about my lunch, too. If you ever hear a melodious, “Human entrails!” you’ll know it’s me. Anyway, Random Cool Guy looks to his mate for some back-up. His friend is busy trying to look like he doesn’t know Random Cool Guy, and is intent on staring at his burger. Random Cool Guy keeps staring. Friend keeps avoiding the look. Eventually, before Friend’s hair catches fire through the sheer power of Random Cool Guy’s gaze, he gives him a half-hearted, “Yeah, funny,” kind of smile, even though it wasn’t funny. Still, when one of your mates goes out on a limb and sings to their McDonalds burger, you really should cowboy up and support him.
Tampon ads are always cringeworthy. Yes yes yes I understand that they’re important; I use them all the time, you know, just in case. It could happen. But are women so fucking uptight about it that it robs them of security, confidence and personality? “I can’t go out, I’ve got my period.” Suck it up, princess. If men had periods, we’d be doing even more crazy shit when we had our rags. “Did you see Johnno the other day? Drank fifty-seven beers and juggled three steam rollers!” “That’s amazing!” “And… he was having his period!” See how much cooler that is? Girls, get over it. Seriously, if your confidence and security are hanging by a thread (see what I did there?), you might need more than a Libra maxi.
Advanced Medical Institute commercials appear late at night, like a kebab, but are not half as tasty. The Advanced Medical Institute are apparently more concerned with blokes cracking boners than they are of, say, curing cancer, which would be a more worthwhile pursuit of ADVANCED MEDICINE (in my opinion, of course). The ads are either of two blokes who play a piano with their wangs, a guy who roots his missus in the back of his car for about 12 hours straight (I don’t think that would be good for anyone, just quietly), or more recently, a yellow screen with the words “who wants better sex?” I guess the Advanced Medical Institute ran out of money for advertising… they probably blew it all (see what I did there? I’m on fire) on buying a piano and ruining it with cock-juice. Gross.
Toilet paper ads. Somewhere back in the 80s, Sorbent introduced a cute puppy who played with toilet paper. They haven’t let go of that campaign, and continue to use it to this day. The dog chases around sixty-three rolls of toilet paper per commercial, which is cute and all… but it begs the question – what is that family going to use to wipe their bums with? It is also more economical to buy a pillow rather than fill a sack with toilet paper.
Bunnings ads feature Bunnings employees spouting endless joy about the goods that Bunnings stocks. For those unfamiliar with Bunnings, it’s a motherfucking huge hardware shop that sells everything from bits of timber, hammers, plants, water features and electrical tin openers. If you need something to re-create an episode of Home Improvement, Bunnings is the place to be. Anyway… the people they get to ‘host’ the ads aren’t always what you’d call “TV Pretty.” Some are missing teeth, some haven’t had a haircut since 1934 and some are packing a bong while the cameras are rolling. That’s not my beef – I think it’s good to see regular people doing regular things in their place of business. No-one’s convinced that the hot chicks on McDonalds ads work there, so why even bother to hire a looker when you can just get Stan from the barbecue department to give his two cents? The problem with the ads, dear reader, is that the spiel that Stan gives about his barbies doesn’t have anything to do with the specials that are coming up at the store.
“We’ve got all your barbecue needs here; we’ve got barbies to cook snags, barbies to cook goats, we’ve got barbecue tongs, gas bottles, outdoor seating arrangements and barbecue aprons. Bunnings’ barbecues are fucking tops,” says Stan. Thanks, Stan. Now, voiceover man, tell me more about these barbecues. “Leaf blowers for $200, vanity units from $150, ride-on-mowers from $300.” I might be doing something wrong with my barbecues, cause I have never needed to leaf-blow my snags, or ride a mower to create a salad. Sauce goes in the cupboard, not the vanity unit. This makes no fucking sense. Stupid Bunnings.
Ten ads-a-crapping, nine nerds a-rofling, eight cancelled shows, seven bumper stickers, six Ponting problems, five drinking games, four random reviews, three ways to get rich, too many beers and a bright shiny new crowbar.