Caress...and smash.

The scan above is an ad for Caress "Skinwear."  I tore it out of...I think...Redbook?  It doesn't matter.  What matters is the way the ad bent my eye.

Yeah yeah - snicker snicker.  Bah.  'Don't mean nuthin' -  naked people in ads is soooo 1990s.

I just want to know - Who's leg is that?

Either she wasn't alone in that photo shoot or the Art Director had a spare leg laying around that he/she insisted on throwing in the shot.

Or she's part Octopus.

"It's a leg!"

Dumb on Arrival.

The photo above is an airport ad near Concourse C of the Minneapolis airport.  I would have missed it in my hurried scamper if it weren't for the astonished cackle of a (very) pretty mom pointing, "That's stupid!"

I had to stop and look.  At the ad.

Was it the burger?  Well, of course no real burger looks as towering and mighty as the photo-model, but certainly photographic deceit is nothing notable.  The fries?  Actually they looked rather good in real life.   How about...the Coke?  No.  Not the Coke.  Though the stuff may turn children into walruses it's not inherently a stupid mixture.

Hmmm.  Noticing that I'd stopped, she pointed again, "Look!  It says 'Appetites departing ahead!' At least they gave us a warning!"  She laughed again, collected her kids and shooed them forward.  "See what happens when you don't study grammar?  That's why mom always tells you to..."

Oh well.  Maybe they pass out barf bags in case your appetite departs mid-meal?

The Greatest.

Viral? Sincere?   No matter.  This is the greatest commercial ever made.  It is not sadvertising.

The only thing greater than this man and his vision is the idea that a GPS unit could be sewed into his scalp so all good Advertising Professionals can locate him and pray in his direction. Four times a day.  More frequently, if we want any hope for redemption at all.

I will worship from afar.  His greatness would probably atomize me in an effortless, single moment if I got any closer than...say...30 miles.

Which is a good thing as I hope to never do business with him anyway.

Save HUGE money.

The scan above is of a ToysRUs flier that we got in the paper.

Money's a little tight this year.  But, with "up to $5,500 in savings," we're feeling much better about moving forward on that solid gold Lego® set and 10ct Diamond Barbie® for Christmas.

We've always tried our best to indulge our kids NOW because who knows?!   Some day, a stronger, more disciplined and forward-thinking power might rise up and subject us all to a life of subservitude.  Boy, I can tell you this, we're all going to be hugely happy, huddled around the barrack fire, warming our gruel, reminiscing about the good ol'days when it took 3 whole days to unwrap our presents...

No, seriously, I showed this to my wife and she was rather happy because the savings justified renting that 3rd pickup truck for when we're going shopping next week.

Ok.  Ok.  Kidding aside.  Say you don't spend near enough at ToysRUs to warrant $5,500 in discounts.  Say you spend...maybe only enough to save two, three grand in discounts.  Geez.  Every little bit helps, right?

"Honey!  I had a great day shopping at ToysRUs!  I saved $2,500 on toys for Cindy and Larry!"

(sniff sniff) Do I smell another Stimulus Check coming?!?

"Yahoooooooooooooooooo!"

A Sadvertising reader clued me into this banner ad that greets Yahoo.com email users.  Go ahead and click on the image to enlarge the view...

Anyway, the copy urges us to, "Stay connected to friends and family. See how."

Judging by the expression on the young man's face, the "connection" appears to be either painful or soberingly awkward.

Let's just hope that woman represents the foxy Cougar lunch lady and not Good Ole' Mom cuz if it IS, mom's going somewhere where she probably won't have a lot of email access.

YahooOOOO!

Why, it really IS OUTRAGEOUS!

The graphic above is from an Iowa bank chain's "viral" website - www.outrageousnow.com.

The website - and supporting billboards & TV - tout "outrageous" things like the world record for throwing cow poop and the number of teeth in a shark's mouth.  The line of thought is supposed to lead to this fact:  MetaBank also provides OUTRAGEOUS services.

Funnn-NEE!  Why slapper-doodle dandy, that's a real hoot'n holler!

But for the rest of us who remember the Banking crisis of, oh, A FEW MONTHS AGO, where the government had to bail out a bunch of banks for OUTRAGEOUS management, "Outrageous" and "Banking" are like 2+2 = 3.

In the meantime, in an industry that - like it or not - is founded on TRUST, cowpies, sharks and outrageous business practices are really outrageous ideas to build an ad campaign upon.

Why squirrels shouldn't be allowed on photo shoots.

The picture above is of a scan of Thermal Underwear I bought last week.

I won't write much about this because the question is simple - is that a squirrel (or similarly sized mammal*) or a tumor?

Maybe I'm just not clued into the ways and wiles of how to sell Thermal Underwear because I look and think, "Geez.  Gross."

But then again...I bought them.

YIKES!

*Or a manimal?!

Wow. Nice car. (yawn) *snore*

The ad above was torn from the back of a recent edition of Car & Driver magazine.  Though I think it's supposed to represent the design prowess of Infinity Cars, I suspect it's more indicative that the leadership has fallen asleep at the wheel...

Everything about this ad - and I mean everything - reeks of a funeral.  Black.  More black.  "Mr. Takashi Nakajima" looks like he's about ready to say, "I am so, so sorry about your loss.  Please sign the guest book, refreshments are near the exit..."

But the kicker is the comatose copy.  The dominant words are EMOTION and FALLS.   Say it together now...

What?!  Design a sexy rev'em up concept car and the best the art director can do is boldly claim that EMOTION FALLS?!  Well, one look at "Mr. Takashi Nakajima" and eyelids fall right along with the poorly placed type.

I didn't have the energy to check what resolution I scanned this yawner, but in case it's low rez, some of the body copy:

"Simple yet complex, elegant yet dynamic, the Essence perfectly balances the mechanics of technology with the fluidity of nature.  As Mr. Nakajima likes to put it, "It is everything I want, nothing I don't.'"

Hmmm.  Must have been Friday because the copywriter shamelessly pulled the old trick of comparing stink with rot.  "Honey, your meatloaf was subtle yet overpowering.  Common, but wholly unique. It was a meal I hoped for yet didn't want."

Oh geez.  They should have written "SEX" into the side of the car with a finger dipped in peanut butter and called it "subliminal sensuality."

Well, I guess we know what the funeral is for - the car's SOUL.  But it sounds like Infinity didn't want that in the first place.

Sweet Jimminy!  I get it now!  They're going after the well-heeled Zombie Market!

(Yawn).  Time to hit the hay and dream of Mazdas.  Zoom!  Zoom!

Blame the Ad Man.

The above ad is for Lysol® disinfectant, circa 1948. Go ahead. Click on it. Read it. And if you're a man, be prepared to think deeply. This might sting.

You know, back in the day, we (guys) had it pretty good. We had our meals made for us, houses clean & sparkly, we positively owned anything mechanical (i.e. the cars)...heck, we even smoked pipes in the living room.

Then, the Women's Movement came along. We had to cook. We had to clean. She learned to drive... and Borkum Riff began ruining her drapes.

And today? Why, just last week, I painted my youngest's nails and did I draw a little smiley face on her pinky? You bet I did. Did I erase it and start over when she started to cry (because it looked icky!)? You bet I did. Eventually, I got it right, too. Sigh.

How did Man-ness lose all that we had so naturally reigned o'er?

I blame the Bubba who wrote this ad. He's the one. The finger on the Tipping Point that sent all of Male Domination cowering in "Yes, dear!"

You know, Advertising People need to be certified. Licensed. And stupid ideas? They should be a crime. You KNOW that a smoky board room of gut-busting buddies thunk up the idea of injecting caustic chemicals into a birth canal as a way to "increase business around here!"

Boneheads.

If I had a time machine, I'd go back...but I can't.

Instead, I'll just wait out the day when our Female Overlords inevitably get fat, lazy and overconfident... let's hope some adWOMAN doesn't decide that a hot wax depilatory will cure jock itch.

Postscript: Check out the line, "...restore everyone woman's confidence in her power to please." Geez. I feel like I just read a charming Children's Story written by Hitler.

Note: A Sadvertising reader estimated the proper dilution of Lysol to be about 1 Tablespoon per 55 gallon drum. If he's right, a bottle of Lysol given at graduation should last right up until menopause. Give or take.

The ad above arrived in today's paper.

People have been marveling at baby's butts for years. Personally, every experience I've ever had with the things have been awful, but that's just because I'm one of those post-modern, dutiful dads who believe in sharing the load as a parent.

Now, I "get" the idea that once clean, disinfected and dried, their little bums are smooth. "Awww. Aren't they so CUUUTE!?!?"

But that's not the point of this post. Pay note to the headline: "Clinically proven to give you skin that rivals your baby's bottom."

Clinically PROVEN. As in, data. Scientific-like. White lab coats. Clipboards. Baby butts. People making notes. And a pointy-faced scientist with one glove on a lil'patootie and the other on some woman's cheek, shouting to his assistants, "MORE TESTS! WE NEED PROOF!"

And while we're flushing the poor copywriter's work down the toilet, what does "...rival..." mean?

"Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"You know when I kissed your cheek this morning?"

"Yeah?"

"It rivaled a...BUTT!" (suppressed laughter, erupting into knee-slapping guffaws).

I tell ya, once they were potty trained, the days around our house went a little smoother.