SHTICKBALL

What is it with the mayoral politicos and stickball? Is this 1958? First you got Anthony Wiener swinging from the heels leading off one of his TV spots (The best part is the stupid fake Photoshopping of Weiner’s name in chalk on the street. Precious.). Then Michael “What’s a Spaldeen?” Bloomberg swattin’ flies again in the annual police/firefighters stickball photo op. Hey Schmeckles, you wanna be one of the commoners? Here’s a New York Summer photo op for yooze: get on the back of a City garbage truck and grab a few stinking, leaking bags of shit-knows-what.

Look at darling Bloomie…somebody get that man a tee.

‘Tis The Season

I fucking hate Summer. I hate Summering people. I don’t Summer. I would love love love to a run into a ditzy blonde chick named Summer, bang her, laugh at her, spit on her ass, and DUMP her! HAHAHAHA…
What was I doing with this post? Oh yes, here’s my one and only ever contribution to Fall Fashion Advertising (click for larger view). We got a few gents from our agency to dress in Dollar Bill’s suits, laid out the mattresses and shot away. One of the best Summer days of my life.

“I’M MR. OPPORTUNITY AND I’M A FUCKIING DICK.”

I thought I hated Snuggle. I was wrong. This douchebag spokes-toon is the most annoying ad icon ever. And he’s not even effective—I thought he was hawking Nissan deals. Fucking TWAT.

IT'S FRIDAY

Which means it’s time for the most interesting thing I found all week while looking through thousands of images for some pitch or campaign.

(I will make this a semi-regular feature.)

Say hello to the “Horshack Rorschach.”

STUPID EXAMPLE #4

You think painting the side of a cow is bad…our agency once pitched Drum roll-your-own Tobacco. Naturally, you can’t show people smoking in ads—but as far I could find, Cows were fair game. This was the billboard of the spec campaign. Our plan was to use real live cows. Drum went with another firm.

I KILLED CBGB.

Couple of years ago, Time Out New York needed a new campaign that communicated the breadth of their NYC coverage. This was one of the outdoor ads. Time Out loved it—but these days I feel a little guilty (OK, not at all fucking guilty) about connecting what at some distant point in the past was the punkiest spot on Earth with what may be the least punkiest clothing line on Earth. Bon Chic, Bon Genre!

Smart Media Placement, Starbucks.

HEY!!! Starbucks is right! I'll just run downstairs right now. WEEEE! Wait. Where is my backdoor? OHHH, I don't HAVE a backyard. That's OK!! I'll just head down Houston Street to my good friend Jimmy's pla...wait...he doesn't have a backyard either...

Now that's a Wild.

Here in the Urbania of NYC, "Wilds" are the name for those seemingly random rows of posters plastered on board fences or scaffolding, usually for something "edgy"—like a Jewel CD. They ain't random and they ain't cheap. And really, they're now starting to blend into the over-posterized cityscape and become invisible. So GoldenPalace has avoided being milked by buying the cow. Brilliant cheap publicity.

THE AUGUST AD BLAHS

COPYRANTER NO THINK GOOD. IDEARS NOWHERE TO BE FUOND. CANT SPEL...NEED VACASHUN...SHOT OF B-VITAMANS IN POOPER...HERE'S AN I DE A...INTRODUCING THE BEST PRODUCT EVER TO PRODUCE...SOMETHING...PUT HEAD DOWN...CLOSE EYES...DROOL...