I seem to watch less and television these days, so material seems thinner on the ground. Rest assured I remain a frothing lunatic, sitting powerless in front the of the idiot-box at regular intervals, however.
Here’s this month’s equivalent of going to sleep alone in the bodily fluids you just shamefully emitted in search of a listless orgasm.
Prepare for your brain to start actually atrophying, rotting and farting vile putrescence as your very synapses turn into liquid Haribo, courtesy of Jeff Stelling and his moronic court of yapping jesters spouting endless bullshit about nonsense that doesn’t matter while the world burns.
Boots Number 7
Very little about this advert annoys me. That is, until we get to the last second or so when we get the Boots-patented “Number 7 – Ta Dah!” jingle. I would not have thought it possible that such a meaningless noise – beyond the McDonalds whistle – could enrage me so much, but there it is. The only solace I can find is in the hope that the actor responsible had to do thousands of takes on Ta-Dah! before the idiot-beards in the booth let her collect her fee, like Toast.
Anyway, ad from earlier in the year below. Jingle has remained the same – and probably will forever.
Oak Furniture Land
Oak Furniture Land is, I’m guessing, one of the least exciting lands you could end up in. The way it sounds vaguely like a magical realm – albeit where the only thing of note is that things are made of a particular wood – surely lures in the unsuspecting and the gullible, drawing them into a retail park outside Runcorn that stands as a testament to the fact that – as a race – we’ve fucked it up.
There are a few things that are superficially annoying about this advert, none of which really warrant a lexical spitroasting. It’s the fact that it’s been omnipresent on my television – the channels I watch, anyway – for most of the Summer. It’s as if August is the time to bulk-buy oak: much as Xmas is the time for perfume and toys; Summer, bikinis; Valentine’s Day, johnnies and dildos.
So insistently annoying I’ve kicked several saplings to death in the last four weeks.
If you have a bathroom like an aircraft hangar, you too can croon weirdly to your significant other while the wash their bits. I have a genuine phobia of people singing at me – it weirds me out like nothing else: a mixture of trite, naff and unhinged. That might be why I dislike this advert so much – along with that odd ‘singing-over-a-backing-track’ thing that’s going on here and several other adverts recently.
To quote Tim Bisley: “Fucking… plum!
Vote – August’s Worst Ad
Tell me which you hate the most – or add your own suggestion.