We've come to expect cretinous advertising content from the company that had the gall to thrust a singing Howard Brown on an unsuspecting nation, but the Halifax radio station reaches a new nadir in banality. It is so painfully cringeworthy to sit through it's a wonder it hasn't led to tailbacks to Beachy Head. Sometimes journalism can fall short in expressing contempt and it's far more effective to simply copy and paste a comment on a YouTube thread:
'Whoever is responsible for this advert. FUCK YOU. YOU UTTER CUNT. YOU. UTTER. CUNT.'
Good work, KaliberKing.
2. Wii Party
This is the latest in a series of atrocious Nintendo Wii ads – remember the one in which Ant & Dec popped by Weight Watchers to chat earnestly with lardy mums about the benefits of Wii Fit? No? That's understandable. You've probably erased it from your memory for being so relentlessly repugnant. Observing Aston feverishly tap on that button might serve to give a tweenie a tingle in her 'special place' but for anyone over the age of 12, this plumps new depths in feckless and unashamed celeb-based product endorsement.
3. Thomas Cook
'We dream about it… We research it… We fantasise about it… We shop for it… We can't wait for it… We have fun on it…' You could be mistaken for thinking the Redknapps are talking about the enormous dildo they have just ordered from Anne Summers. But no. There is Louise riding a horse on the beach instead, and Jamie, chest-glistening, emerging from the surf, before showing off his keepy-uppy skills. Yeah, it's all so believable. Millionaires booking their hols through a bucket shop tour operator. Don't you bastards realise there's a recession going on? I used to respect these two for not milking their celeb status. But now they're content to nosh away on that corporate teet like every other shameless fuck with a media profile.
'If it 'appens during the game, bet fwee-six-five will 'av it covered'. Difficult to know what's more distasteful. A wealthy actor encouraging white van man to spunk his cash at the bookies, by pretending he's one of them, or Winston continuing to dine out on his East End hard man image, an image he has cultivated since his starring role in 'Scum'. For the last time, you're not the fucking daddy, Ray. You're an irritating faux Cockney geezah with limited acting skills who makes Dick Van Dyke's performance in Mary Poppins appear a tour de force. Twat.
5. T Mobile
If T-Mobile's impromptu Trafalgar Square sing-along of 'Hey Jude' made you long for an Al Qaeda operative to be lurking in the crowd, its latest flash mob are just asking to be deported to Cairo's Tahrir Square. Who, of sane mind, would enjoy being sprung upon by these inane fuckwits 'spontaneously' singing and dancing to the strains of 'Return of the Mac' shortly after arrival at Heathrow Terminal 5? This trite, feel-good dirge leverages off every possible cliched, multi-cultural image going about the joys of humanity all joining together, and for what exactly? Making the world a better place? No, that's right, flogging fucking mobile tariffs. It's a wonder Bono doesn't put in an appearance texting his old mucker Nelson Mandela.
6. Go Compare
Well and truly defecating on the memory of Italy's finest operatic tenor, it's starting to feel like this irritating twat has been plaguing our tv screens since the dawn of time, singing his retarded verses about a comparison website. Not so much intelligence-insulting as setting a new benchmark for ad executives everywhere aiming to target that key viewer demographic entitled: 'People with the brain capacity of a Rowntree's jelly'. Quite some achievement following on from the jingle-based tomfoolery of those moronic jogging dicks in the 118 118 ads. Actually, scrap that. It may have just been topped by the latest 'we-buy-any-car-dot-com' abomination.
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