Lies Well Disguised, #19.

Yesterday on gawker, I wrote about some industry ombudspeople's reactions to the increase in "consumer-generated content"—in particular the confusing ramblings of Euro RSCG partner and AdWeek columnist Tom Messner. Add another shop to the growing list of agencies that wouldn't hire me even if I was carrying the Coke account in my back pocket.
(gawker post link)

"famous dutch shrinks" returns zero Google matches.

(thanks to Bill Green at MTLB for the scan)
previously in Ketel One ads:
1. My correspondence with Ketel One continues...
2. You don't have a mouth Ketel One phone kiosk...
3. Got it yet? Take your time...
4. An unsigned letter from a distillery in Holland...

'Dis is how they do subliminal advertising in Queens.

"If you're happy, we're happy."
No sex hidden in ice cubes here.
(scanned from Friday's New York Post)

previously in auto advertising:
1. Car dealership ads are a gift from Satan.
2. The Car as Cock.
3. Taglines are DUMB: NYC auto show edition.

No, I'm a Ranternista.

(click image)
"from the upscale to the (*cough* bullshit) underground..."
Those newsanistas at the New York Times introduce you commonistas to Urban Eye, for the foodanistas, stylenistas, culturenistas, and nightlifenistas who just need to stay on the hipsternista tip. Stylish Sandinista leader Daniel Ortega has reportedly signed up for the daily email.
previously in NY Times stupidity:
1. page A2 is usually fucking hilarious.
2. Times lets you know how stupid they think you are.
3. Take a trip down Memory Lane (a toll road).
4. Tommy, I think about sex a lot.

Cotton Inc.'s dolls allowed to catwalk during NYC Fashion Week.

(AP)—Emaciated models, including size -½ Kate (pictured), will be shaking what little they've got under the Bryant Park tents as the CFDA refused to institute minimum body mass requirements for the upcoming New York Fashion Week.

"I'm so, so relieved," squeaked the perky little redhead. "And I know Nicole and Nao-mini will be very happy, too."

The dolls will be staying at the Soho House as special guests of Karl Lagerfeld.

The three one-foot tall catwalkers, however, have been summarily banned from next month's Milan shows.
( cotton inc. trade ads scanned from back page of WWD)
previously cotton inc doll ads.:
1. Models lighter than cotton.
2. The fabric of their size double zero lives.
3. Mini Naomi Campbell terrorizes sleeping maid.

The World's Worst Sound ID'ed.

After a one-year study, the definitive answer was—a person vomiting. Microphone feedback was #2. Surprisingly, a dentist's drill only ranked 20th. (If you haven't seen the Mr. Creosote restaurant vomit scene from The Meaning of Life [youtube clip. about 5½ min.], well, think of the most disgusting thing you've ever seen/heard, then add infinity.)
(via ananova)
previously in disgusting:
1. Close your eyes.
2. copyranter Google searches
3. www.copyrantersucks.blogspot.com

DEUTSCH MARK. February 2007.

"UNLESS YOU'RE BORN A BUSINESS PHENOM— which most people (wouldn't that be ALL people, Mr. Deutsch?), including me, are not—" blah blah blah...This half of an axiom from a man who was handed an ad agency by Daddy. Anyway, on to the TENETS!!!!!!!!!!

1. GO BIG. Do chest & back on the same day to reeeeally get that flex.
   
2. STAY AHEAD OF THE TRENDS. I just bought a closet-full of striped shirts.
3. KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE. Here in Gotham magazine, people just look at the pretty people pictures, so it doesn't matter what the fuck I write.
4. WORK LIKE HELL. But look like Heaven. (see pic)
5. ZIG WHEN OTHERS ZAG. Write clichés when others don't.
   
6. BRAND BRAND, BRAND. Douche. Douche. Douche.
   
7. DO! Every day, I row out into New York harbor to meet all the boats, instead of waiting for them to come to me.
8. NEVER SIT STILL. Even in the Dentist's chair.
9. USE THE POWER OF SELF-ENTITLEMENT. I don't know, it sounded good in my head.
10. BE FLEXIBLE. I do stretches and suck my own dick every morning.

previously in Donny Deutsch:
1. The Deutsch/Trump '69'
2. Donny Douche sits down with Ted Turner.
3. Donny Douche continues to break the Big stories.
4. Cosmic Blob supplants Deutsch's ego...
5. Donny Deutsch Mark!

Lies Well Disguised, #18.

In response to a previous gawker column I did on CEOs, wherein I called BBDO a "shitty bloated" ad agency, Jocelyn Weiss, VP of corporate communications, invited me to their midtown offices to school me. Chances are, I won't be invited back anytime soon. Here's why (link).
AdWeek's adfreak posted about my visit (link).
As did AdAge (link).

Travelers' Concept of Computer Geek Virtually Predates Computers.

(click image)
Headline reads: To catch a geek, you have to think like a geek.
The heady, up-to-the-second tech insight displayed here by this nimble ka-billion dollar insurer is quite refreshing compared to the usual big business cluelessness, yes? They've got to be 90-100 steps ahead of today's skilled hackers.
The call-to-action copy: Give your independent agent a call, and spend your time taking your business to the next level. Instead of worrying about a crook in ill-fitting pants.
"Hello Travelers? Hi, here's all my company's passwords and my Amex number; bill me whatever the fuck you want..."
(found at JoelOnSoftware by contributing editor archeress.
previously in corporate stupidity:
1. The Good Hands, Bad Taste People.
2. M&Ms, "for business"
3. Murdering cereal with Marketing.
4. fMRI Imaging vs. Cookie Puss.

Unfortunately, these are not your Grandfather's underpants.

(via ananova)
Yes, it's fart-proof underwear.
"The Under-Ease pants have an in-built multi-layered, replaceable filter made of felt, charcoal and fibreglass wool. To prevent gases escaping without passing through it, the underpants are made from air-tight fabric and completely sealed with elastic around the waistband and legs."
previously in WTF?:
1. rolling grass thing.
2. the Horshack Rorschach.
3. 2006 Darwin Award winners.

My correspondence with Ketel One continues...

(scanned from Domino magazine)
previously in Ketel One ads:
1. You don't have a mouth Ketel One phone kiosk. You can't "say" anything.
2. Got it yet? Take your time.
3. An Unsigned Letter from a Distillery in Holland.

Equine's Posterior Award™, January 2007, supplemental pick.

Today's New York Times featured a self-fellating eight-page supplement titled "It's about the journalism. Period." Several reporters were nicely serviced, with the back page hummer saved for media reporter and first monkey in cyberspace David Carr. For comparing his new blog to one of the most important moments in the history of science, Carr receives a special supplemental chocolate Horse's Ass Award. Congrats Carpetbagger!
previous Equine's Posterior Award™ winners:
1. Michael Goldberg, chief marketing officer, Zimmerman, Omnicom Group.
2. David Roman, marketing VP, HP.

Rest now, Bling Bling. Your long journey is over.

You were born on hardscrabble urban streets. As you grew, you wound your way through big city suburbs and then deep into subdivision sprawl. Next time we heard from you, you were coming out of the mouths of Jay Leno and his ilk. You climbed mountains and raced across plains at unprecedented speeds. Simultaneously, you crossed over from Urban dictionary to the august pages of Merriam-Webster. And now, you've reached your final resting place: an embarrassing ad for a $100 billion German technology behemoth.
previously in stupid corporate ads:
1. "Trees are pretty. Let's use trees."
2. The Good Hands, Bad Taste People.
3. M&Ms "for business"
4. bp. Beyond Poppycock.

Equine's Posterior Award™, January 2007.

(from AdAge.com this week)
Michael Goldberg, chief marketing officer at Zimmerman, an Omnicom Group ad agency in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., said they would position Crocs "not as a fashion brand, but as a company that is anti-everything bad." (emphasis mine). Mikie, for that bit of pinpoint positioning, you're the winner of my chocolate Horse's Ass Award for January 2007. (this will now be a regular weekly/monthly feature)
previously:
1. Equine's Posterior Award™, December 2006.

As pure as the driven snow.

See if you can catch some in your nose. Kate, I know the white stuff has been in short supply around here this Winter. But it's a new year. And Fashion Week is only 14 short days away. You know they'll be plenty of flaky powdery goodness around then. Bring Petey along, too. You can take him on a horse and horse & carriage ride through the park.
(taken at 7:15 am this morning, Houston & Lafayette)
previously in NYC fashion billboards:
1. NoHo Ass.
2. Five story models compete for my love.
3. The G-Star Glory Hole.
4. A small price to pay for a big package.
5. Horse's Ass over Manhattan.

Lies Well Disguised, #17.

One word: Deadenbacher. (link) update: here's the spot on youtube. When I wrote the gawker thing Monday night, the spot wasn't online yet. Check it out. Absolutely creepy.
For previous Lies Well Disguised, start here.

St. Francis of Broadway.

(UPDATE: commenter bro. hughes says this is in fact Saint Lazarus. And he is right. 'Hello Hell? Reservation for one please.')
Sorry, but I'm just not ready to dive back into the backed-up cesspool of shitty advertising. Instead, let's start this week with the final chapter of the story of St. Francis of Assisi. In 1219, Francis tried to make peace with the Muslims of Egypt and their leader sultan Melek-el-Kamel. Francis challenged him to walk through fire, made a few inroads, blah blah blah, nothing major. When he crossed back into Damietta, he was declared a heretic for even talking to those evil scummy Muslims, and the Crusaders literally wanted his head. But they were talked into sheathing their swords by the sultan, and Francis went on to do some miracles with birds and wolves, got Stigmata-ed and died. Finally here, on the hard streets of Manhattan in a pile of refuse, a truly devout Catholic has given Mr. Poverty his comeuppance. (UPDATE: kicker line if I'd known this was Lazarus: Let's see you rise from the dead now, Bitch!)
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST: now another commenter says it's St. Fucking Roch. And she appears to maybe be right.
(found and photographed by the eagle-eyed and lithe archeress)
previously in Streets of NYC:
1. HOO-AH!!!
2. The Great Wall of New York.
3. NYC window displays: Zamir furs.
4. Tribeca Horror Film Festival.
5. The "Target" Bus.

Art Appreciation Fridays, with copyranter.

(this will become an ongoing feature like Fuck You Fridays & Fucked Up Fridays.)
Left: "The Gate," 1959, by Ellsworth Kelly. Painted aluminum.
Approximate value—$5-10 million?
Right: "The Opening," 2007, by Mark copyranter. Unpainted mat boards.
Bidding is now open.
previously in art appreciation with copyranter:
1. AD HACK ARTWORK.
2. DEAD BULL: Victorious Matador.

copyranter Equine's Posterior Award™.

(from the November 27th, 2006 Fortune)
"Today to be hip, you’ve got to be real..."—David Roman, marketing communications VP, Hewlett-Packard. Congratulations David! (he's responsible for this BS) You're my December 2006 Equine's Posterior Marketing Award winner! (This will be a regular feature from now on, either weekly or monthly. Just look for the chocolate horse's ass)
previously in corporate idiots:
1. ...the difference being his salary is about 6 bucks a second.
2. Jesus Jeans.
3. Jason Binn is a Prick: the evidence.
4. How did Air France become #1 in Europe?

Holly's Once, Twice, Three Times A Lady...

First off, it's January 11th. Russian Orthodox Christmas, The last "Christmas" of the season, was last Sunday. So, like, the holidays are FUCKING OVER. Yet, all three of the above showed up this week. Secondly, using non-member nameless bimbettes is acceptably idiotic. But now, True, you're giving fake names to the bimbettes and, even worse, you're rotating different bimbettes into the same lame fake name ad. How bout making up some porn names for your non-member bimbettes? Holly Buddy...Holly Branch...Holly Wood (no, that one's taken)...Holly Daze...Holly Berry...
previously in online dating ads:
1. match.com finally brings the bOObage.
2. BREAKING NEWS NOW...
3. so feel free to wear your tightest shorts, ladies.
4. on online dating advertising.

Taglines are DUMB #137.

When accuracy counts?!? That's Mr. Accuracy, Hollywood astrologer W. C. Moriarity. Hmm. Well, with his neatly trimmed facial hair and tight black turtleneck (not completely pictured, but it's there. trust me) W. C. does give off an air of...precision. A check of their website learns me that they have a rather steep 10 bucks for 10 minutes new customers "offer." You also get one free question! I asked if you've ever been wrong. Still waiting to here (I mean, "hear") back from Smiley McSoothsayer...
(thanks to Laura Berrey for the tip!)
previously in Taglines are DUMB:
1. Taglines are DUMB #2.
2. Taglines are DUMB #5.
3. Taglines are DUMB #4.
4. Taglines are DUMB: Tobacco edition.

Lies Well Disguised, #16.

This week on gawker.com, I briefly wrote about whether sticking the CEO in TV spots is such a smart move (link). If for no other reason, go see a side-by-side Dr.Z/Cookie Puss face-off. Some of the comments are pretty funny, too. If you want, you can hunt down the 15 previous Lies Well Disguised here.

Page A2 of the New York Times is usually fucking hilarious.

"Aah, hahahahahahahaha! OH MY GOD! (snicker. spittle.) Darfur? BWHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh god, my sides. 50 dead in Baghdad car bombing....Haaaaahahahahahhaha!!! Honey, check out this funny corpse!"
previously in NY Times is stupid:
1. Times lets you know just how stupid they think you are.
2. Take a trip down memory lane (a toll road) with Times Select.
3. Tommy, I think about Sex. A LOT.

Cracks starting to show in American Apparel empire?

With skeevy pervert Dov Charney cashing out and sales that "slowed significantly" in 2006, is AA on the verge of heading into the shitter? As the Times article notes, Charney built his company by "exercising strict, and at times controversial, control" over his business. There's no argument it worked, but now what? I admit it, their large t-shirts fit my lean yet ripped body like a glove (right, Georgina?). I really only got one pressing question though, lovey Dovy—did you fuck this one, too? (scanned from the back page of this week's Village Voice.)
previously:
1. American Apparel: made with Dov.
2. A small price to pay for a big package.

Worse than confusing.

enviga. Named after the Greek God of Hooey. Joint marketers Coca-Cola and Nestlé are already facing their first lawsuit from the Center for Science in the Public Interest. Even Coke's own guarded claim—that you have to drink 3 FUCKING CANS just to burn 60-100 MEASLY CALORIES—is more than likely Bullshit. The crap is not yet available nationwide, but here in Manhattan, it seems like every subway station is plastered with these posters (photo taken at the Broadway/Lafayette stop.). Drink up, early adopters.
previously in stupid new-age beverages:
1. Anthropomorphism to the power of Retarded.
2. Perrier. Shittier.
3. DEAD BULL: Victorious Matador.
4. 50's packin'. Nutrients.

"I'm sorry you all suck."

New Yorkers, do you ever scan those box ads on the back page of the Village Voice? Well, you probably don't do it as obsessively as I do. I believe these ads, week-in and week-out, offer very keen insight into the state of the City. This one is from last week's paper. The number is unlisted. When you call, you get a recording of a woman telling you that this is a service "to make you feel better." You have three minutes to record whatever you want. I called identifying myself as Donny Deutsch and, instead of going into specifics (would've taken too long), I apologized for everything I've ever done. I did feel better afterwards.
update: an anon commenter says this is part of the apology project.
update: another commenter notes the typo "for for")
previously in crazy NYC:
1. NYC window displays—Zamir furs.
2. I GLOVE NEW YORK
3. The Great Wall of New York.
4. Always use black type, sweetheart.
5. President William Jefferson Clinton never looked better.

The Beav's plans featured much much more wood.

(click image)
I admit it. The William Beaver House beaver is a hot piece of twat. However, André baby, This concept needs to be, as we say in my pretentious biz, "pushed" a lot more. Sticking him in a famous Empire State Building site photo is ooh soo predictable. And the copy—"supercharged?" What tha fuck does that mean, dude? In-House? Ad agency? Your own ideas? Whatever man, me and my crack art director Keri will give you a spec campaign using your mascot that'll blow wind up Uma's skirt. Call me, hot stuff.
(scanned from the February Bloomberg Markets magazine.)
previously in William Beaver House ads:
1. André Balazs has a new black beaver.
2. Dean Balazs will NOT tolerate wild parties at Beaver House.

The Balvenie Weenie®'s New Year's Resolutions.

• I will wear out my new Fleshlight by March.
• I will celebrate my 41st birthday with a better quality escort than I did on my 40th (sorry Pandora).
• I will give Tuna Helper® a try.
• I will buy an Ab Lounge.
• I will see a specialist about "that smell" I have.
(ad manipulated by proactive reader deniz)
Add your own (Weenie) resolutions in the comments, if you feel like. The other 8 Balvenie Weenie® posts can be found here.

Match.com finally brings the bOObage.

The match.com honchos, maybe even ladies-man owner Barry Diller himself, must have finally had enough of true.com's DD-Cup come-hither not-member models. As you can see ("It's OK to look™" is their new tagline), they've trotted out their own plunging neckline. And it appears that "Brody100" is actually a real member of match.com. However, my adguy sense is tingling. I think Brody is a Lie Well Disguised—either a match employee or a paid plant. Her username is suspect. Plus—peanut butter, jelly and egg sandwiches? Please.
update: She says she's a "life coach" in her profile, which is headlined "World traveler now ready to explore the dating jungle..."

previously in online dating:
1. BIKINI KILL.
2. Breaking News Now...
3. This is my diaphragm. Scared?

Ladies & Gentlemen—your 2006 Darwin Award winners.

(via ananova, and, of course, The Darwin Awards)
1st place: Two Florida 21-year-olds climbed into a big balloon to get a helium high and suffocated.
2nd place: A 26-year-old man was electrocuted while flying a copper wire-bound kite in a thunderstorm. Wait for it...he was an electrician.
3rd place: A Brazilian man tried to dismantle a rocket-propelled grenade by driving over it repeatedly with his car and then hitting it with a sledgehammer. The subsequent explosion killed him and destroyed six cars and his workplace.
(btw, this is my 520th post. Fuck You, Douchebags!)
previously in crazy:
1. LIVE GREASY.
2. Your Friday Shriners Update.
3. beano jingle.

M&M's "for business" hard to swallow.

Lilly Insulin? That's a bit ironic isn't it? OK, sending a poison pill M&M to an overly aggressive investment banker is kinda funny. But fired by M&M? I guess it's better than an email. (scanned from the latest Business Week.)
previously in stupid business:
1. So, reading Business Week will give me Encephalitis?
2. Topographical Zombie Bono...
3. Murdering Cereal With Marketing.
4. I wrote a post for you, and it was called "Yellow"
5. fMRI Imaging vs. Cookie Puss.

Caledonia slightly updates its ad twats.

(click images)
See if you can spot all the differences in the 2 ads. Last time (link), the Caledonia condo marketers went with "the cool of west Chelsea." This time (right), judging by the smiles, I believe they're trying to give us "the warmth of home." Hmm. We lost gay chef, but picked up hip black man plus a doggie. Also, it is being made more obvious that boxer (now holding a ball) and gallery man are lovers. The ice queen is still icy, however, she's now holding flowers in an (unsuccessful) attempt to add warmth. The big question here: Are hip black man and hot brunette an "item?" Perplexing. Please discuss amongst yourselves.
UPDATE: As Maulleigh points out in the comments, the biggest difference is that the twats are photoshopped in the recent ad. Look at the shadows.)
previously in stupid real estate ads:
1. Corporate Real Estate Stooges Redefine "Shocking"
2. CLEARLY defining your Target Audience.
3. She feels pretty empty.
4. Jonathan Swift Realty, Inc.

Lies Well Disguised, #15.

Yesterday on gawker.com, I took a look at EDGY fashion advertising (link). Once there, you will have the rare opportunity to view a commercial that I actually, honestly, truly like. For previous Lies Well Disguised go here.

Well at least they didn't call them "No. 5"

(click image)
R.J. Reynolds, you evil, evil bitches. Should I now pronounce it 'Ca-MEL?' Why not just gather a few mil hidden in your couches and get Nicole Kidman to endorse these luscious suckers? Even though Chanel doesn't have a No. 9 (they do sell a No. 19), company chairman Alain Wertheimer can't be too happy with the R.J.'s product naming. And Coco Chanel's little black dress must be a mess from all the squirming she's doing 6 feet under.
(note: not a brand new product, but it's the first ad I've seen for it. scanned from January's Elle. update: apparently, it is a new product in the U.S.)
previously in tobacco:
1. There's pee in your butt.
2. Tastes Good Like A Cigarette Should, Redux.
3. Taglines are DUMB: tobacco edition.
4. Retro cigarette ads.

The Trans Fat War Turns Childish.

It says "By Healthy Girl" in the lower right corner, but I believe this flyer—and several more, including one that said "Hydrogenated Oils = Hydrogen Bomb"—may have been put up by NYC's control freak Health Commissioner, Dr. Cry Baby Thomas Frieden.
In a New York piece last week, a former aid to the "health czar" was quoted as saying, "Whenever (Cry Baby) sees anybody smoking in New York City, he considers it his fault." There you have it cig smokers: It's his fault. Sue his social engineering ass. As Audrey Silk, founder of NYC CLASH (Citizens Lobbying Against Smoker Harassment) says about his bans, "(Cry Baby's) approach to public health shows contempt for the public..."
(note: flyers spotted in 2 downtown spots: these were on windows of the abandoned store on the southeast corner of Lafayette & Prince.)
previously in stupid NYC:
1. BAN EVERYTHING!!!
2. The Comedy of the NYC Office of Emergency Management.
3. The MTA. Very Anal.
4. 16 million eyes...

Don't start thanking The Almighty til you see those new circ numbers, Ed.

OH MY GOD! No Time magazine waiting for me when I got to the office this morning! How the hell am I supposed to get through my week? Feel so naked, so...uninformed. Seriously Ed McCarrick, who seriously reads Time these days besides retirees? Every day is fucking Friday for them. (note: See, the "creativity" with this ad is that the art director used the typeface of the Time logo but replaced it with the hip phrase "TGIF," which also happens to be 4 letters long. Brilliant.)
(ad scanned from the Wall Street Journal)
previously in magazines:
1. geezerJock? Yes, geezerJock.
2. Rocketry Mockery.
3. Jason Binn is a prick: The Evidence.
4. How many "Trumps" are there in Trump magazine?