What? Didn’t “feminine products” immediately spring to mind? What’s wrong with you?
You would think the ad would address severe painful cramps, agonizing lower back pain and a crabby, nagging pain-in-the-ass kind of attitude, but no. From my way of thinking, when it comes to a woman’s monthly dementia, skydiving isn’t usually a high priority for most women. Heck, when my wife goes into her cycle, I like to wear my hockey helmet around the house.
That was too easy. Let’s try something more difficult then.
The camera circles as it descends to reveal a lovely, beaming woman dressed in a frilly summery dress, a sun hat and in her arms, a huge bouquet of flowers. She’s twirling around madly and unashamedly - around and around and around, insanely out of control in a meadow full of tall grass and wild flowers.
Well?
If you guessed cream cheese, you’re right! It’s amazing how a little bit of cream cheese can send someone into a whirling, twirling, psychotic episode. It must be good cheese! Hey, count me in. I want a cheese that can drive a woman crazy.
Sex usually sells. Try to guess this next product.
An attractive woman and her woefully, pathetic, potato-like, sofa-loaf of a boyfriend are sitting together watching TV. While her listless man lump lies lethargically inert watching a football game, stuffing his fat, goofy-looking face with “cheesits” - she stares off into space, secretly fantasizing, transforming this sad, sloppy slug of a man both facially and bodily, into some kind of Adonis love-god to suit her lustful desires. Then, suddenly, her new hunk-of-a-man burps grotesquely aloud and bursts her fantasy bubble, returning her guy to his normal pathetic presentation of paunchy paralysis.
Now, what product could they possibly be advertising?
If you guessed shampoo, you must be an advertising geni-ass, because never in a million years, did I see that one coming.
Men, of course, when it comes to advertising, require far less fantasy and more, hit them over the head with a two-foot long salami kind of presentation. So, this next one should be easy.
The scene opens with a large group of guys, pals, chums, buddies - arms slung over each other’s shoulders singing and laughing and smiling as they belt out a very manly baritone sounding anthem of pure, unadulterated joy.
If you guessed beer ad, you guessed right.
Too easy I know. But guys are basically simple-minded creatures. When we get together to drunkenly sing our anthems of love to our favorite beer, to my way of thinking, it’s like admitting, YES, all male friendships are merely based on our beer preferences. We don’t usually don’t get along that well, unless we’re wobbly, plastered or fall-down, stupid. Because, other than beer, we really don’t have a good reason to base our friendships on. When the beer is gone, we just go home and fart.
Finally, this is an easy one.
Picture clouds, fluffy kittens and angels. They’re floating, tumbling, playfully frolicking and running about in sheep-speckled fields of white and eiderdown. They are so cuddly, and or, heavenly in their disposition as they subtly breach the delicate nature of the product at hand.
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).
1
1
1
