Fertile Minds

So New Jersey Gov Codey has rejected "We Will Win You Over” as his State’s new tourism slogan. A slogan that cost New Jersey taxpayers $260,000. As a Native New Jerseyite I remember, not at all fondly, the Thomas Kean era pitch: New Jersey & You: Perrrfect Togetha.
Here’s my submissions
(cost: $0):
• New Jersey & You: Not Incompatible.
• New Jersey: New York's 63rd County.
• New Jersey: A State.
• New Jersey: Springsteen Still Proudly Lives Here, Albeit On A Secluded Estate Nowhere Near Anything Or Anyone.

debate?

In about an hour, Bloomberg and Ferrer will stand behind their respective podiums to "debate" each other.
I just had a fantasy: I'd like to see Bloomberg sing Bow Wow Wow's I Want Candy in response to every question...and let's see what happens to the poll numbers.

Rats On A Dog (Vienna pic #1)

As presented by a Polish punk rocker street artist (click image). He was blasting some euro noise (not Ratt) to set the mood for his brilliant vision. Notice the symmetrical layout of the rats. Both the dog and the rats were alive and well. I petted the rat on the left.

BANNED BY GAWKER

This was the comment that got me banned, in response to this post (scroll down to see the comment in context):

•"Who gives a flying shitass fuck at a fucking jerkass rolling fucking fuckwad donut?"•

Pretty lame, right? The admittedly ultra-childish (and super-drunken) rant came out of me because I felt this developing media "story" was of interest to exactly the half dozen people up for the job.

Gawker is fascinating to me when, often through reader tips, they present insights into this City you will never see anywhere else. Gawker is not at all fascinating to me when they present insights into the boring networking news of their friends.

It wasn't by the editors; let's just say it was a high-ranking decision. This after they've used several of my funnier posts on their site (some of the funniest stuff they've posted, in my opinion).

So, y'all can stop writing me asking for a Gawker Comment invite, obviously.

This had to just plain LICK.

Conference held in my building this week FOR 2 FULL FUCKING DAYS.
Some imagined events:
• Pre-gummed flaps: innovation or folly?
• The Psychological Pain of the Paper Cut
• FREE weigh station Wednesday!
• 3 or 4 lines for the return address? A lively discussion.

I will never complain about ad focus groups again. (Yes I will. They’re fucking useless.)

THIS SVUCKS

(click image)
Deemed "edgy" by some clueless reviewers, The new Svedka vodka campaign features shit-awful writing on top of a predictable futuristic concept. "2023." So random. And putting the logo on the fembot's thigh was a nice restrained touch. But the worst part of this is that it appears that Sevdka in-house ad people stole the robot design from director Chris Cunningham.

(click images for closer look)
Above are two stills from Cunningham’s beautiful video for Bjork’s All is full of love—produced seven years ago. Sveda's fembot looks awfully similar, doesn't she?

CE-O what a mistake

The good ole male CEO ego (Kozlowski, you’ll be bunking with Lay). With scores of Yes Men telling them they have great voices and great faces, they sometimes embarrassingly end up in their own TV commercials. Brand Image-wise, this is almost always a flatout idiotic move.

EXHIBIT A: eHarmony’s Neil Clark Warren. Already laughed at here. I’d just like to add that hearing his voice immediately sets off the urge in me to fuck a church organist and dump her. That can’t be a good thing, right?

EXHIBIT B: Disarmingly smarmy Men’s Wearhouse CEO George Zimmer uses a scripted, fatiguing sense of humor to sell suits to mooks who couldn’t dress a paper cut. Just another Boring Ass in love with his own voice.

EXHIBIT C: Lee Iacocca (former CEO) for Chrysler. Yeah, smart move. Way to reel in that desirable 70–death driving demo.

Ahh, but then there was Greek immigrant, New Yorker, and Absolute Fucking Total Genius Tommy Carvel. Over the years, he smartly solicited grade school children, as opposed to ad agencies, to work on his TV spots. And hearing him say “Thinny-Thin” or “Cookie Puss” in that wonderfully semi-incoherent rasp transfixed a nation. Carvel built an empire from nothing. He passed away in his sleep in 1990, and took with him a legacy as the first and last great company spokesperson.

On online dating advertising

Here, you have the two extremes: True—with the “Stick Your Dick Here” come ons; and eHarmony’s freaky Dr. Neil Clark Warren (I don’t trust people with two first names, let alone three) basically guaranteeing you’ll meet your “soulmate.” BWAAHAAHAA! I think “stalemate" is much more likely.
Dr Neil, is all handsy-on, cuddling you through the cold online process with his 400 plus questions and 12-CD Coaching Series™. TWELVE CDs. You GOTTA be fucking kidding me. Will he also fluff me? This is the biggest scam since “come back to my cave and see my drawings.”
Meanwhile, on True, it’s tit-fucking.
id vs. superego. dick vs. soul. fake tits vs. false advertising.
Where the hell’s my bottle?

the FUCK TRUCK hits the highway

I’m a bit drained after shooting my load repeatedly all over Donny Deutsch last week. To make up for my low reservoir of piss & vinegar, I’m getting completely shitfaced on Wild Turkey (I'm 100% Irish—use your imagination). On a Tuesday evening. At home. By myself. Listening to fucking Queensryche, Operation Mindcrime (I’m a drummer, OK? Cram your pussy music tastes up your pansy ASS.).

So, fcuk fcuk fcuk. Adfreak mused yesterday on the death of fcuk. My very drunken take? This was never branding. This was a doodle on a bookcover of a 10-year-old wiseass boy. I once owned a fcuk shirt...and...I bought it myself in SoHo.

Two more fingers of bourbon.