Altoids makes smug New Yorker magazine readers feel smugger.

If you're having trouble with the headline, it translates to "Ow Say Tongue." It's the first ad I've seen for Ginger Altoids, scanned from this week's New Yorker magazine. It's also the first ad in the sometimes good, sometimes lame Altoids print campaign to reference Marxism, I believe.

previously:
1. Are You Willing to Die for Digital Media, Beth Comstock?
2. Can't quite put my finger on why this campaign sucks.

You've Cum A Long Way, Baby.

(click images)
A couple of weeks ago, New York Times Op-Ed columnist Bob Herbert got his manties in a bunch bemoaning the "saturation of misogyny" in America today. In the piece (sorry, fee req'd) he blamed everything from porn to DuPont (inventor of Spandex®) to the Oscars® to, of course, advertising (he, for some reason, left out journalists) for the dehumanization of women. Well, I took a look through my long, thick archives and, frankly, I have no idea what Herbert's talking about.
(the true.com woman above right is apparently dating Peter North.)
previously:
1. "C'mon baby, it's low in calories."

How did Air France become #1 in Europe?

It's simple.
1,000-foot tall CEO Jean-Cyril Spinetta personally hand launches every single plane from Charles de Gaulle international airport, saving valuable time and even more valuable jet fuel. Known for a steady throwing hand, he has, to date, only destroyed 17 aircraft killing well under 5,000 passengers.
(scanned from this week's Economist)

previous airline ad posts:
1. "Trimming the stabilizers..."
2. Taglines are DUMB, #2.

This Bud's For You, Will Leitch.

Congrats to the 2006 World Series Champion St. Louis Cardinals. Will Leitch, one of the team's biggest fans, gotta be their biggest fan in NYC, runs the best damn sports site on the web—deadspin.com.

(Budweiser magazine ad from the early 1960s)

What a DICKWAD.

(click image) The anon submitter of this pic says it's a self-portrait. I count over 40 dicks, probably more on his back. I especially like the balls on his chin. ADDN: Dear "I'd fuck her/him" anon commenter (sfx: tapping foot) I'm waiting... previously:
1. We are all bOObs (not stars, stupid Moby)

Hendrix rolling over in his puke.

(click image)
Gee, 184 Thompson Street Owner LLC, proprietor of 140 "loft-like" (whatever the hell that means) condominiums in Greenwich Village: did ya get permission from the James Marshall Hendrix estate to exploit the "legend" for your noble realty purposes?
(little known fact: Phil Hartman was a roadie for the Jimi Hendrix Experience.)
(scanned from this week's New York magazine)
previously:
1. Excuse Me, While I Puke And Die.

The Nesquik and the Dead.

(click image)
So ignoring for a sec that, even on two hits of acid, these new billboards/ads for Nesquik make less than no sense, what the fuck happens when I run out of chocolate milk 5,000 feet up in the air over the East River? Also, the dude looks like he's orgasming.
(photo taken on Stanton St. by Slinky Redfoot who parodies the crap outta ads & brands at brandspankin.com)

previously in weird NYC outdoor:
1. WHAT???
2. TRIBECA HORROR FILM FESTIVAL
3. "Yeah, Here Comes The Rooster..."

The Balvenie Weenie® asks for it.

In this, my sixth visit with the mouthless douche, we find our anti-hero asking his creator for a refill. But, there's a lot of white space in this ad! The artist could draw sooo much more around him. Like:
• His Mom's basement.
• Jason Voorhees with a machete.
• The guy with the gun in this famous pic.
As always, please leave your suggestions in the comments.

previous Balvenie Weenie® posts:
5. The Balvenie Weenie® brings his A game.
4. out again with the Balvenie Weenie®.
3. The Balvenie Weenie® motto.
2. Balvenie Weenie®, Cinco de Mayo edition.
1. The Balvenie Weenie®.

Meet Prostate Surgeon Seth Lerner's RoboProber 3000.

(click image)
Actually, it's called the Da Vinci S type device (Doctors all think they're fucking artists. And God. God-Artists. Fucking Dicks.). Way to not make me even MORE fearful of prostrate exams, Dr KillPatient. Plus the robot makes you look about three feet tall. Probably the Hospital Administrator forced you to pose with the scary thing. Plus, as reader sparkler has pointed out, he works at the "Dickstein" Cancer Treatment Center.

previously:
1. She looks pretty healthy for a cancer sufferer, doesn't she?

TimeWarner hires white killers, white freaks, everybody who's white in between.

(click image)
Lately, America's whitebread Fortune 500 corporations have been falling over their $800 Aeron chairs to insert ads into special "diversity" advertising sections in business pubs (this one's from the October 30th Fortune). I give credit to TimeWarner for one thing: at least they didn't put "Diversity" in the headline, like every other unimaginative advertiser in the section. It is, however, the first word of the bodycopy.

previously:
1. Diversity has a Mascot.
2. NEWS FLASH! Ad Industry Doesn't Like Minorities.
3. R&R, minus R&B.

Lies Well Disguised, #5.

Yesterday, I filled up a Starbucks' venti cup with piss on Gawker. Beforehand, I ate LOTS of asparagus. A bit of a tired rant, yes, but on Sunday, the New York Times put the words "Starbucks" and "Aesthetic" together in a headline. I had to do something. (link)

previously in Lies Well Disguised:
4. Deutsch & Binn: The Perfect Douche Storm.
3. NYC Real Estate Advertising Hyperbole.
2. The Bloody Death of Celebrity Endorsements.
1. Advertising Week 2006.

match.com bronskied by True.com DD-cup sandwich.

As I posted last week, True has recently upped the ante in the online dating wars. And, as is apparent above, they've also upped the melon sizes (Take Your Pick!), while easing back on the bikini shots. Meanwhile, match.com trots out a "find someone special in 6 months" guarantee (yeah, good luck with that.), complete with lame little cut-paper figures. However, judging by True's latest truly desperate come-ons, I'm guessing that about 347 of those "11 million" singles are men.

previous true.com posts:
1. True or False?
2. That's gotta be some kind of record.
3. BREAKING NEWS NOW...
4. BIKINI KILL.
5. On online dating advertising.

We are all bOObs (not stars, stupid Moby).

An anon reader sent this to me during my boobilicious birthday week in August. I'm been saving it for something apropos—Halloween being a week and half away is a good enough reason, I guess. It looks like it was taken in Amsterdam, which makes perfect sense.

Lies Well Disguised, #4.

In this week's piece on Gawker, I took a dump right in Donny Deutsch's mouth, making him now 110% full of shit. here's the link.

previously in Lies Well Disguised on Gawker:
1. The Unparalleled Hyperbole of NYC Real Estate Ads.
2. The Bloody Death of Celebrity Endorsements.
3. Advertising Week 2006.

PBR's hipster pedigree.

(click images)
Who knows how these things happen, but it happened: shitty Pabst Blue Ribbon somehow became the ironic beer of choice for NYC hip-peoples (though, it is waning a bit lately). 'Dude! It's like got a blue ribbon, but it like tastes like crap...Cheers!' As you can see above, even back in the 1940s, PBR was the choice of Bettys and Artists everywhere.
(ads found here.)
(also, here's some hipster haikus, some of which mention PBR.)

Ad scanned from Speech Impediment Monthly.

The TriBeCa Summit on Greenwich Street, or Gree Stree, if you will. "The last great prewar lofts in Manhattan," says it at their website. So, Ma Yo Mo. Ma Yo Mo. Keep in mind, that several people of above average intelligence saw this ad and thought: Yep. That works (or maybe they thought, Ye Tha Wo.). At their next sales meeting, do you think the agents will start up with a Ma Yo Mo chant? MA YO MO!!! And, then start messing it up—Ya Yo Mo! Mo Ya Yo!
(actually scanned from today's New York Times real estate supplement)

previously in real estate:
1. Taglines are DUMB: NYC Real Estate Edition.
2. The Unparalleled Hyperbole of NYC Real Estate Advertising.
3. CLEARLY defining your target audience.

True or False?

Jesus. A plethora of rotating True.com ads has overtaken my hotmail page in the last 24 hours (so much so, that I got another True post lined up for tomorrow. I'm milkin' it baby.) The ad on the left showed up yesterday evening. The one on the right, this morning. Hmm. Either they're tossing around figures like Ken Lay and Jeffrey Skilling, or exactly 2 million members found their soulmates during the overnight hours.

previous True posts:
1. That's gotta be some kind of record.
2. BREAKING NEWS NOW...
3. BIKINI KILL
4. "This is my Diaphragm. Scared?"

That'll buy a shitload of Puppy Chow.

Damn skippy It Pays. Yesterday, in what was apparently the largest real esatate deal in history, MetLife sold the 80+ acres of Stuyvesant Town-Peter Cooper Village for 5.4 billion fucking dollars, potentially jeopardizing the future "financial security" of about 25,000 New Yorkers. Negotiations for MetLife were shrewdly handled by in-house lawyer Lucy van Pelt.

previously:
1. A $36.13 billion smile.
2. Meet John Dowd. Banker. Founding Father.

fMRI Imaging vs. Cookie Puss.

In the last year, ARF (the Advertising Research Foundation) here in NYC has undertaken a study to attempt to predict—before the ads run—if a campaign will produce results. They believe that fMRI (functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging) technology can offer "fundamental predictive insights." I KNOW! Sooo FUNNY. These uselessly over-educated Marketing Dimtwits believe that by putting subjects into an fMRI machine with a TV monitor and hooking them up proper, they can gauge positive emotional response through brain waves and changes in skin conditions, and thusly, forecast if that person would likely purchase the advertised product or service.
Basically, it's a Lie Detector Test.
Exhibit B is Cookie Puss (above, right). Just the mention of those two words has instantaneously put the nearly incomprehensible voice of Greek immigrant, Genius, and native New Yorker Tom Carvel into many of your heads. Carvel employed grade school children (really) to help create his $100 TV spots which helped him build an ice cream empire from nothing. People often talked about absolutely hating his commercials. Stick that in your MRI machine, idiots. (add'n: long live Fudgie The Whale!)
previously:
1. CE-O what a mistake.
2. Today I am a CEO.
3. Inside the Puffs® testing laboratory.

That's gotta be some kind of record.

Porn star Houston purportedly set a record by having sex with 620 men—but that was in one day. Booting up my iMac calculator, this here True dating service woman takes on 24,000 different men/women every single day. Houston, you have a problem!!! (sorry)

previous True posts:
1. BREAKING NEWS NOW...
2. BIKINI KILL
3. "This is my Diaphragm. Scared?"

I don't have a 2nd post for today.

So, for no reason other than that Halloween is in 2 weeks, here's some rather expensive llama costumes, including the popular "cool llama," lower right.

You MUST very closely identify with 1 of these 5 Twats to buy one of our condos.

(click image)
Welcome to The Caledonia, "the first luxury condominiums on the High Line Park", located at the "nexus" of West Chelsea and the Meatpacking District (aka the HellMouth). Don't see yourself in the pic? Probably means you're Poor or Uncool or (loser!) both. Please Turn The Page. You're not our Target Audience. However, if you happen to be the Sugar Daddy/Mommy to one of these five clichés, well, after a rigorous 6-week stint with a personal trainer and thousand buck spa makeover, you may come in and offer us a cash bid. (scanned from this week's Time Out NY)

previously:
1. Corporate Real Estate Stooges Redefine "Shocking"
2. The Unparalleled Hyperbole of NYC Real Estate Advertising.
3. CLEARLY defining your target audience.

Ladies, do you love shoes more than wildlife itself?

Pay tribute to Steve Irwin, Samuel L. Jackson, and Gordon Gekko with one pair of $1,195 Gucci® pumps. That's because they're a patchwork of crocodile, python, and lizard. Too bad they couldn't have included some hemp in honor of Woody Harrelson.

previously:
1. Snakes on a Motherf'ing Pump.
2. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Bag.

Nuts on a Woman's Face on a Plate.

(click image)
Err. Having been to the Tribeca Grand bar a couple of times (unfortunately), I gotta say, I'm not feeling this ad. I know painters sometimes put flies in their portraits to symbolize mortality. But, a beetle? I guess the critter could be representing...Shit, I haven't a clue. (scanned from the latest Fader)
previously:
1. Free Jade Jagger Real Doll™ With Every Condo.
2. Jason Binn is a Prick: The Evidence.
3. André Balazs has a new Black Beaver.
4. Embassy Suites ad inadvertently poignant.

Perrier. Shittier.

Drinking bottled water is in fact "riskier" (there are zero FDA quality regulations over the industry). But, I don't think that's what Perrier had in mind for their new campaign ( a 2nd ad says "Scarier", with a rollerblading man pouring water over his head while cutting his hair. or something. it honestly made no sense to me.).
I don't understand why they're trying to make their water with bubbles seem "edgier" than other water products. Do you really expect people to buy this strategy? Nice clean layout, though.
(scanned from the latest Black Book)

previously:
1. "C'mon baby, it's low in calories."
2. ABSOLUT KRAP.
3. DEAD BULL: Victorious Matador.

FRANCHISE FOR YOU!!!

The Soupman Groweth. The man who inspired a Seinfeld episode is apparently now rolling in green pea soup-soaked money. The first franchise opened in Princeton, NJ about a year ago (no soup for you, Brooke Shields!). Along with a 6-figure check, Yeganah also requires that you send in a video of yourself berating strangers on the street in a thick Russian accent. (scanned from today's Franchisee page of the Wall Street Journal)

previously:
1. loony NYC lawyer logos.
2. I GLOVE NY
3. NYC out of ideas, #∞.

Where a good idea becomes a bad cliche.

(click image)
If only. If only the ad really did look like one for a blood drive. Instead, LionsGate just had to put in a hot nurse in stockings. You idiots could have actually given the false impression that this movie is going to be smart as hell. Something tells me this was the usual case of ad by committee. "Search all the parks in all the cities, you'll find no statues of committees..." (I believe it was Donny Deutsch who said that.)
related:
1. "Saw III" splatters actor's blood all over promotional posters. (via AdRANTs).

And on the 7th date, I finally bent Jane over my Italian leather sofa.

I had, like, HAD it with Jane's Sybilian chit-chat. There we were last night, dining at Nobu on the ad agency's dime (hey, it was research). She's talking to the model at the next table in Russian, ignoring her Monkfish Pate, when it hits me: dichotomous does not, like, equal interesting. After dinner, I edged her back to my place, with the promise that I owned Zoolander, and to meet my cat Kafka (real name Zippy the Pinhead). I poured some old port and pretended to look for the DVD. She was perusing my bookcase and noticed my copy of The Brothers Karamasov (which I had meticulously mangled to make it look used). Cut to sofa.
previous Jane posts:
1. Six dates later...
2. Jane's addictions...
3. I am Woman, Hear me Blubber.
4. Jane's readership...
5. Downward Facing Slutdog
6. "Jane, you ignorant slut!"

Lies Well Disguised, #3.

Yesterday, I posted the next Lies Well Disguised piece on Gawker.com. If you would like to be taken on a tour through a Sunday New York Times real estate section, here's the link.

previous Lies Well Disguised posts on Gawker:
1. The Bloody Death of Celebrity Endoresments.
2. Advertising Week 2006.

Also, if you could jump down on the tracks and pick up all the garbage you see, that would be a great help, too.

Unwilling to spend real money (we're getting around to it!) on real subway safety measures, the laughably mismanaged MTA calls on its overpaying customers to do its work for them. Also, their lawyers probably see this ad campaign as a first line of defense against the lawsuits to come when nobody sees the something on a 6 train that blows Grand Central Station the hell up.

previously:
1. The MTA. Very Anal.
2. conEdison. FULL OF IT.

These ads take the Life outta me.

Advertising Credit Cards ain't easy, I empathize, creators of this Visa dreck, I really really do (Wait, no I don't.). But, a little less Philosophy 101 and a lot more Product Benefits 101 is in order here, I believe. Cause this campaign has me thinking up my own headlines, which is not a good thing:
• Life Takes Extortion. Life Takes Visa.
• Life Takes Bankruptcy. Life Takes Visa.
• Life Takes...Oh fuck it. I'm tired. This ad sucks. My commentary on it sucks. So what. Who cares? I fucking hate advertising right now. I'm burping my lunch and it tastes like shit. I'm just going to put my head down and nap for a few minutes...
(campaign via clusterfuck Omnicom group).



previously:
1. Vis-a-vis Bullshit.
2. ABSOLUT KRAP.
3. HP. Huckster Plagiarism?

Look at Jigga, gettin' all "A River Runs Through It" on us.

(click image)
J: "Come on, B. We're goin' fly fishin' in Montana."
B: "Correction. You're goin' fuckin' fly fishin' in fuckin' Montana. I'm goin' to get a mani/pedi. But catch some Tuna Tar-Tar for me, suge."
(from the November Vanity Fair)
some previous fashion posts:
1. Fendi No. 5
2. Jimmy Choo. Shoes to die for.
3. Small price, big package.
4. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Bag.

She feels pretty empty.

(click image)
Bartholomew: Mother, where's our furniture?
Mother: It's on order from Italy, my little IM Pei. It'll be here in 3 to 4 months.
Bartholomew: Mother, why are we dressed all in black?
Mother: It's how your Father prefers us, my little Apostle.
Bartholomew: Mother, where is Father?
Mother: This week (pause) he's banging a gaggle of Thai whores.
Bartholomew: Mother, What are you staring at?
Mother: The rest of my life...
("the new vision in family living." 170eea.com)
previously:
1. Corporate Real Estate Stooges Redefine "Shocking"
2. CLEARLY defining your target audience.

6 dates later Jane, and I still feel like I don't know you at all.

Oh Jane
You're Playing A Game
Called Hard To Get By Its Real Name
You're Playing A Game
You Never Can Win Girl
Don't You Pretend You Don't Know
What I'm Talking About
Jane You're Playing A Game
Of Hide And Seek
Jane You're Playing For Fun
But I Play For Keeps (Yes I Do)
Oh Jane That's A Game On Me
Oh Jane That's So Plain To See
Jane Jane Jane...

previous Jane posts:
1. Jane's Addictions...
2. I am Woman, Hear me Blubber.
3. Jane readership...
4. Downward Facing Slutdog.
5. "Jane, You Ignorant Slut!"

Also, poor and smell.

There it was. Smack dab on the front page my weekly copy of The Villager; an unfathomably shocking headline that challenged everything I thought I knew and believed. Here's the story. Read it, and Bleed with them.

previously:
1. AD HACK ARTWORK.
2. DEAD BULL: Victorious Matador.

The Rolling Grass Thing.

Paging through the latest issue of ultra cool transportation magazine Intersection, I found the next candidate for being crushed by a steamroller on Letterman. I envision a cavalcade of Williamsburg Brooklyn hipsters bumping into each other on Bedford Ave. with these contraptions very, very soon.

previous Friday stupidity:
1. Horshack Rorschach.
2. Floating Bolton Head.
3. Human Watermelon.
4. SEX MACHINE FRIDAY!!!
5. Mashups Friday.

What every self-respecting Bleacher Creature will be wearing this Fall.

Are you a real Yankees fan? Do you get wood every time you hear Bob Shepherd say "Derek Jeta?" Well then, do I have some jewelry for you, Mickey. For 150 bucks, you can proudly sport a pair of these beauts: Sterling Silver cufflinks with authentic blue painted wood from the seats of Yankee Stadium. Fucking Wow, right? And each pair is INDIVIDUALLY NUMBERED on a CERTIFICATE of AUTHENTICITY!!! Think of it, Reggie—you could be wearing some long-ago spilt beer or deeply embedded fart smell on your wrists to your next meeting! See Ya!!!

previous Yankee posts:
1. Alex get upstairs and put your big pants on!
2. Yankee Clubhouse Soon To Smell Like Whorehouse.
3. Is IT In YOU?

I'm Lovin' It. "It" being, The Shits.

The "I'm Lovin' It" McDonald's campaign is 2-3 years old. I know. The I'm Lovin' It website is even dead. (they've still got the I'm Lovin' It Late site running, though.) This campaign smelled so bad right out of the ad agency's ass, I didn't bother to address it (also, I wasn't blogging then.) It was an effort aimed at 15-24 year-olds, but landed somewhere around the 45-55 year-olds—leading directly to one of the few sales drops in company history. Ronald could've flown around the country holding a McGun to teenagers' heads and they would have never repeated this lame phrase. It actually approached Burger King's Herb The Nerd in fast food marketing ineptitude. But, goddamn it, we've still got hundreds of thousands of campaign cups left and, by golly, we're going to distribute 'em!

previously:
1. Ronald is Dead.
2. America will most definitely not "Feel Like Chicken Tonight"
3. LIVE GREASY

President William Jefferson Clinton has never looked better.

(Click image) This past Saturday, I did the 'ol meet the parents in Times Square after they've been dropped off by a tourist van and take them to the Statue of Liberty/Ellis Island (my first time, too. recommended.) While waiting for their jitney, I window-shopped at all the wonderful tourist-trap shops that feature everything ever made in Taiwan. Upon closer examination, I believe the designer who made this Clinton doll was completely shitfaced that day. Either that, or he/she was mistakenly working from a pic of ring announcer Michael Buffer.

previously:
1. The Great Wall of New York.
2. NYC Window Displays—Zamir Furs.

FDNY recruits ballers by letting them know there'll be plenty of time for balling.

Interesting choice of a visual, FDNY. You're obviously looking to increase the number of black City firefighters. OK. Good. You're also seemingly letting us know that you have to be in decent shape to fight fires. True enough. I know your physical testing is quite tough. But, uh, is this photo supposed to represent two fireman on duty or off? Cause if they're on duty, I'm a little concerned about this particular house's response time. Also, why place this ad in New York Press, which nobody reads?

previously:
1. NEWS FLASH! Advertising Industry Doesn't Like Minorities.
2. Knicks sign shooting guard to 4-year, $27 million contract.

Oil companies love them some Earth, Wind & Fire.

Oil companies really, really want to cut energy consumption and reduce emissions. I totally believe them. Shutup. I do. You know why? Because they've spent millions upon millions on the marketing of their alternative fuel initiatives. bp has its alternativenergy™ (note the shared "e"). Shell has its Energise™. ExxonMobil has its, uh, Global Energy Management System (GEMS), no trademark that I can find (it is a bit clunky). See, you Green Meanies? They care. Look at all the thought and work that went into that pretty bp artwork. And soon, very soon, before it's too late, maybe, they'll get around to spending some very real money on the actual initiatives.

previously:
1. bp. Beyond Poopycock.
2. A $36.13 Billion Dollar Smile.

Take a Trip Down Memory Lane (a toll road) With TimesSelect.

Apparently (finally) realizing that Tommy Friedman and Mo Dowd just ain't worth 50 bucks a year to the pedestrian paper-reading public, the New York Times has repositioned their pay-to-play TimesSelect feature as a shiny time traveling machine. On the surface, a seemingly somewhat smart move. But then you think for a sec; do I really want to pay extra to be able to go back and read what the Times had to say about miniskirts or Punk Rock or Leave It To Beaver or the Treaty of Versailles? No. No, I don't. But you, you go right ahead and sign up and then pepper your future party conversations with borrowed tidbits of boringness.

previous TimesSelect posts:
1. All The Money We Can Fit In Our Pockets.
2. Tommy, I think about Sex. A LOT.
3. TimesSelect Op-Ed Intimacy Series, Part II.

Go see a pic of OJ with three legs.

My second Lies Well Disguised post is up at Gawker. (that's my fancy logo, right. for those of you lucky enough not be in the ad biz, it's an old Hathaway shirt ad by dead hack David Ogilvy, who somehow was/is considered a "genius" and "visionary").

previously:
Lies Well Disguised: Advertising Week 2006.

XTRA! XTRA! Another Vodka Xactly What World Needs!

(click image)
Should a new Swiss vodka's packaging look like a medicine bottle you'd pull out of a cuddly Saint Bernard's rescue thingie? Maybe. Should a new Swiss Vodka sport the most idiotic brand name in the history of spirits? Maybe not.

previous vodka posts:
1. Excuse Me, While I Puke And Die.
2. THIS SVUCKS.
3. Staten Island needs to be distilled, like, five times by itself.
4. An Unsigned Letter from a Distillery in Holland.
5. Let's Get EFFEN Drunk.