Another blog post with the word "arse" in it

...but this time, with good reason: to stop the locals from shitting in the river. Explanation from NewScientist

Arse, Arse attack

Juxtarseposition reinforcing the idea that Prescott always has been an arse.

Snapped under 30 seconds ago on Telegraph website.

Bennetts biker babes bucking before buckets belabour bikinis

Wikipedia explains that the origin of the oath "Gordon Bennett" lies in the behaviour of a 19th century playboy of that name.
It therefore came as a pleasant surprise to read on the CV of a certain insurance website that in 1930 this company was "Founded by Gordon Bennett in Coventry and provided general insurance for customers". This is a prime example of life imitating art for Bennetts Insurance is the firm whose advertising gimmick is guaranteed to encourage the utterance of several oaths. Yes, this is the specialist in motorbike cover who generate videos of semi-undressed logo-clad girls spanking each other, jumping on bouncy castles and fighting it out with water pistols.
Maybe it says something about Britain's motorbiking demographic that they are targeted using Bennetts' cunning boob-rich marketing strategy, but it must work - the company claims over 200,000 UK customers.
Here are the company's icons in action once again in their latest viral. In the interests of road safety research, four of them compete to stay on a bucking bike. The bikinis and buckets of water add to the realism but damn it, why aren't they wearing helmets?

Don't bash the Bishop

Muchee likee these smutty Bishops Finger ads by JWT (via AdsOfTheWorld), which are cleverer than the country wench work previously pimping the brand (Here's my finger; Pull my finger). It's a nice play on the brand name even if it does conjure disturbing images of priapic clergymen.
The connection between beer and slobbering over women will no doubt garner the usual gaggle of numptyist complaints. As recent big media stories have shown, the great British public, emasculated by a shitty economy and a genetic inability to protest properly (unlike the French, who aren't afraid to burn the odd sheep to get their point across), enjoy nothing more than writing angry letters or leaving irate voicemail messages. Christ, we're a scary bunch when we're riled.

The iPhone app all girlfriends should have

Now this is what I call a product demo. It's an iPhone horse racing game which is demonstrated, in a lurid stroke of genius, by two blonde chicks spanking themselves. No more need be said.

via

Up Mario's pipes

I now have lost any inclination to use Gumtree or play Super Mario after reading this personal ad.

Clickify to embiggen

via Holy Moly newsletter

Slurp your way to great sex

Here she is again, the Pomegreat chick whose addiction, we have already seen, has given her especially peachy buttocks. So, not only will this juice give you gluteal maximising, it’s going to make you feel sexy. Maybe because of “antioxidants” which, as far as I know, have never been proven to do you any good. The only people who’d disagree with this are nutritionists. And what’s a nutritionist? The answer is: anyone who says they’re one. Like me. And I talk shit all the time. Remember, good people: this is just a juice.
Next week: Grapefruit juice will resurrect the dead.

Only slightly unconnected news: The Guardian’s Dr Ben Goldacre wins court case against nutritionist quack.

Slurp your way to a juicy antioxidised arse

Cards on table. I have no fucking idea what an antioxidant is. It’s one of those words that sits very close to the word “quack” in my bullshit thesaurus. I bet every one of you has a vague idea of what you think this word means, and that’s why you should be suspicious when any foodie or vitaminy ad starts throwing these fluffy terms at you.
I’m not going to totally pan this ad because this chick sure has a nice arse, and, even though the copy doesn’t explicitly say “drink this and you too will have a terrific pair of peachy buttocks”, it is what it wants you to think. Christ, it’s only a fucking fruit juice.
Next week: Pear juice will give you a big cock.

'Fing

Advertising's not funny any more. Or I've had a cooliostomy and lost my sense of humour. My mojo has gone. Don't get upset. It's only a fucking blog.

Out.

Laptops Direct - doing their bit for chav marketing

I'm still not entirely convinced that this isn't an April Fools joke, but this was posted in March and there's a little too much effort in the supporting website for it to be a one-day-wonder by some small company. Still, this call for volunteers to wear marketing tattoos is a bloody good laugh. Check out the website and look at the fee chart.
My favourite bit is in the press release:
"I know some will think of this as exploitation but they are misguided. Lots of people have tattoos for fun and we are giving them an opportunity to get paid for doing the same thing! Besides our logo is a lot more tasteful than say the Leeds United logo or the name of an ex girlfriend. We are also doing a careful screening process to ensure vulnerable people such as drug addicts and the mentally ill are not branded."

**Edit**

From Laptops Direct's Marketing Manager (see Comments):

"This was an April Fools joke but we were amazed by the response. We had over 100 emails from people expressing outrage at our moral indecency!"

WTF? Up the A

Spotted on the side of a Roman bus.

via b3ta

WTF? Saddle up

An occasional series of ads that require no comment.
Ad for Brooks Saddles. You won't find this on the London Underground.

Jan fug

You know how regular bloggers post stuff like "Sorry for not posting, but I've been soooo busy on pitches and shit"? That's what I'm doing here, except I've had a busy lunch diary, which means the important stuff (e.g. work) gets knocked back into the evenings.
Which means I don't have time to blog.
Which is making me so depressed that I recently resorted to ringing the Samaritans, except even they were so busy that they diverted me to their call centre in Karachi. When I told them that I was feeling suicidal they got very excited and asked if I could drive a truck.
Here's a cheeky upskirt ad from Japan, harvested from my Flickr reserve. Normal service to resume whenever.

The fragrant whiff of parody

Last year's Tom Ford ads... Provocative, blog candy, and just rather obvious. Pushing the sex boundary is the obvious tactic to achieve advertising shock and coverage.

Thankfully, the campaign wasn't impossible to parody, and this spoof does it so well.

Not safe for work.

Parp

Crude graffiti on a wall in Manchester. I am still very easily pleased.

via

Shoe horn

"Hngggggggggk..." jerk... crack!
That's me dozing off on the train, having one of those short but deep, dream-filled commuter naps. I've almost slumped to one side, a tiny dribble worming its way down my chin when I'm certain, for a split second, that I'm about to fall off my rock.
My head jerks upright, I awake, and of the half-dozen passengers around me, I suspect only one has noticed my Fat Old Git Dozing Off On The Train act, and she has the good manners to hide behind her Evening Standard. The pages are trembling slightly. She's bloody laughing, I know it.
I'd been flicking through GQ when sleep crept up on me. The dream was of faceless, naked women chasing me over the landscape from the opening scenes of 2001, their toilet bits replaced by gaping Scream-like mouths. Death was going to be a leathery, but well-polished affair, and I had to escape.
Who said advertising doesn't work?

China is not our enema

This extraordinary ad from China needs no translation. Imagine the fun you could have if you were able to pre-programme one of these. And will someone please explain what the hell is happening at 3:45 ?

via b3ta

Hot air from Pooh Corner

This piece of green propaganda seriously annoys me. It's a leftover from the Live Earth jamboree (cost = several zillion gigawatts of electricity), and uses cow shit to create an association in your mind between excrement, farts and eating flesh in order to turn you into a veggie. I have no problem with salad murderers (Chimplet #2 has been one for over a year, bless him) but if we were meant to be vegetarian, then why are animals made of meat, eh?

Fitness First, but only after the depression

This magnificent slice of buttocky goodness assails my easily distracted eye on at least four separate occasions between train station and office. This unimaginative poster ad could easily be pushing holidays, breakfast cereals or haemorrhoid cream. There happen to be some words blighting the image - I only noticed these after about a fortnight of glancing at the smiling polka-dots as I passed by.
Ah, it’s for a fitness club.
An earlier ad for this brand, which ran just after the New Year, was clearly aimed at men. It had an image of a guy desperately trying to button his trousers. The slightly humorous message was simple: get yourself down the gym, Lardarse.
I didn’t head for the gym, but I did wheel out my exercise bike. The ad half-worked on me and, besides, swinging on my rubber tyre all day doesn’t really burn calories (and there’s no way I’m paying London prices for gym membership).
I don’t “get” the other types of gym ads. Male models showing off their pecs beneath the latest incentives looks poncey. That’s fine if you're training for a film about Greeks in bondage trunks massacring effeminate Persians in their zillions.
Then there are the super-fit female and male models laughing as they labour, sweatless, on the latest piece of equipment. Well, bollocks to them. The last thing I want when on the running machine is to listen to a couple of airheaded fuckwits who see these places as a social club. You want to talk? Go to the fucking pub.
As for Miss Polka Dot Pants here, who is she talking to? Not me – staring at a real arse in a gym will just get me arrested.
Women? Does it say that you COULD have a backside like this? This is assuming that you DON’T and that you ought to feel guilty for being such a fat fanny, so do something about it so that you can be stared at.
I’m all for fit bodies in ads, but please, don’t try and depress me. Let’s have more buttocks promoting chocolate, beer and crisps because, dammit, they are the good things in life.

Insert skidmark joke here

Heck, this is yet another bottom-related observation. Underwear firm Sloggi are launching their own beauty contest, but are focusing solely on the gluteal region. It heralds "a global campaign to find the most perfect male and female bottoms in the world. The competition, called ‘Show me your Sloggi's', is aimed at 18-30 year olds and will run in over 40 countries." - Marketing
Expect much arse-related above the line marketing in July.
Funny how this is supposed to be a global effort and yet is being managed from Britain, surely the most backside-obsessed country in the world.