Archive for the ‘commercials’ category

“Emotional Support” Blobfish…

January 8, 2019

I’m not unsympathetic to the idea of Emotional Support Animals, although some people have pressed the limits of what may be considered such an animal, and where it may be appropriate to take them.  As a case in point we have a Credit Karma commercial where a female passenger on an airline notices a male in the same seat row sporting a blobfish on his lap, who he introduces as Harold, an emotional support animal that he enlisted when his credit rating caused damage to his self-concept.  The woman advises the man that he can gain tips on improving his credit rating from Credit Karma, a thought which so excites the man that he accidentally drops Harold on the aircraft floor.  “He’ll be all right,” reassures the man.  “He’s a bottom feeder!

Now blobfish are real, a deep sea creature found in waters 2,000 to 3,900 feet deep off mainland Australia, Tasmania, and New Zealand.  A few years back, they were voted “the Ugliest Animal in the World.”  Blobfish are easier on the eyes if you see them in their natural habitat, since the appearance that people associate with them is caused by decompression damage as the specimens are brought to the surface.  So be kind to the blobfish, as you’re not seeing them at their best.  Harold could certainly not live out of water, even while he appears to move slightly during the commercial.

Sadly, no one claims blobfish as their spirit animal.  These guys just can’t seem to get a break.  And when it comes to emotional support animals, I’m inseparable from my inner fox

Mucinex Mr. Mucus vs. Gorilla…

January 2, 2019

It’s hard to think of a less appealing figure in a commercial than Mr. Mucus.  We’ve seen bodily organs with minds of their own such as the Myrbetriq bladder and the Halos stomach, but this guy is a bodily product, for crying out loud, basically animated phlegm! He’s even a revolting green color, so we think less than kindly of him, and basically want him gone, ASAP; it isn’t easy being green, as Kermit the Frog observed, and Kermit had redemptive qualities. The repulsiveness of Mr. Mucus is why we are glad to see some insult or harm come to him, and will remember any product that can further that end. You’ll never see stuffed likenesses of Mr. Mucus flying off store shelves.- –  It’s snot gonna happen, ahem!  (laughs maniacally)

The brief ad begins with a man asking his wife where her cough is. The woman responds that she’s fine because she took Mucinex DM, which sent the cough far away. – – How far away? We are then shown Mr. Mucus in the jungle, complete with a safari jacket and pith helmet. Coming across a gorilla, he asks the ape if he’s seen a nice woman with a cough, to which the simian responds Hulk-like by smashing Mucus-boy with a mighty fist that sends him flying swiftly out of sight.  No tears are shed on Mr. Mucus…sad!

Mucinex DM, the voiceover then tells us, releases swiftly and lasts 12 hours, not 4, leaving Mr. Mucus to bungle in the jungle…”Well, that’s alright by me.” (Jethro Tull).

(“I’ll write on your tombstone, I thank you for dinner/This game that we animals play is a winner.” —Jethro Tull, Bungle In The Jungle)

 

 

Halos “Good Choice, Kid: Fair” Commercial…

December 11, 2018


Our internal organs are revolting…seriously!  First we have the walking big-eyed bladder of the Myrbetriq commercial, and now in a Wonderful Halos commercial we have a stomach so appalled by the dietary choices of its host that it jumps out of his mid-section complete with skinny legs, and like something from John Carpenter’s The Thing scrambles off in the opposite direction!  In the Halos “Good Choice, Kid: Fair” commercial, we are shown one gentleman with double deep-fried butter sticks in each hand offering one to another guy at a county fair.  It’s more than his stomach can stomach, erupting from his gut and charting its own course…

It’s not that I’d be immune to the allure of a double deep-fried stick of butter.  I’d probably enjoy one immensely, dying with a smile on my face even as it clogged my arteries.  County fairs are notorious for providing such guilty pleasures.   I just doubt that I could retain the blissful composure of the fried butter stick eater as my gastrointestinal organs visibly bailed ship and exited my body, which is the stuff of serious nightmares.  The butter-eater seems to shrug it off…

“Who knew these things were bad for you?,” comments the double deep fried butter eater as his stomach runs off.  “Everyone,” responds the other guy, continuing to sensibly eat his Wonderful Halos oranges.  Sometimes, you see, the right dietary choice is easy, even if guilty pleasures aren’t going away any time soon…

KFC “Chicken and Waffles” Commercial..

November 12, 2018

When you’ve seen KFC icon Colonel Sanders in his trademark white suit dancing with a human-sized animated bottle of Mrs. Butterworth’s, you’ve seen pretty much everything, or at least need to cut back on the recreational drugs. It’s not that I’m judging them, you see, and the Colonel is surprisingly light on his feet, at one point hoisting Mrs. Butterworth aloft in a performance worthy of Dancing With The Stars. They are, after all, promoting chicken and waffles at your KFC franchise, and I wish them every happiness together…

The commercial spoofs the “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” dance scene from the movie Dirty Dancing. The dance moves aren’t quite as spectacular as those in the original choreographed scene, however, in large part because a bottle of syrup doesn’t have, well, legs. One must work with what one has, I suppose, even if the end result is kinda surreal and freaky. I’m cool with that, although if I start dancing with my syrup bottles I’ll be ready for institutionalization. One also must presumably take care to separate bottles of Mrs. Butterworth’s from Aunt Jemima’s lest a sticky business develop. I don’t know what extremes syrup bottles might be capable of, after all, either as rivals or co-conspirators…

The POM Worry Monsters…

November 6, 2018

I’m no stranger to Worry Monsters; we’re intimate associates, actually. It’s just that I never imagined them looking quite as they are depicted in commercials for POM Wonderful juices. Managing to look both disturbingly human and grotesquely cute at the same time, these monsters look like rejected prototypes from a Disney/Pixar movie, or perhaps toys for children that you hate. They’re covered in pastel-colored fur, have distorted or exaggerated facial features, and monster appendages like horns and pointy ears. There are scarier monsters in real life American politics, nudge-nudge, wink-wink!

The underlying notion seems to be that as you get older you worry more about your health, so you turn more to things like running in the case of the male profiled, or yoga in the case of the female. But if you drink POM Wonderful juice that boasts ingredients like pomegranate juice, you’ll worry less about your health, and your Worry Monsters won’t be either as bothersome or as potent. The blue furry monster pursuing “Jake” in our commercial is winded, not able to keep up with his running, and the only fear that he can cast to his charge is over chafing. “Julie’s” purple-hued yoga monster bewails the fact that she can’t spend quality time pouring over the Internet with her host over diseases that she might have. These are ineffective, underutilized monsters with issues, you see. Perhaps they need to see Dr. Phil; that might make for memorable viewing…

…one might fantasize about the Mountain Monsters crew plugging one of these critters during a search for Bigfoot; heck, they’d probably wear their hide as a vest to the hoots of their fellows over the pastel shades. And when it comes to inner demons, I’ve stopped fighting with mine…we’re on the same team, now! So eliminate those free radicals, people, and remember to VOTE! It’s never been more important…

Robitussin Honey “Window Bear” Commercial…

November 1, 2018

“Hi Susan!,” greets the anthropomorphic CGI bear cheerily as he rolls back a woman’s kitchen sink window in this Robitussin commercial.  The woman has been coughing, and her cough is visible as a blue spray; drat, mine never is!  In her hand, the woman holds a honey container, appropriately enough one of those molded in the shape of a bear. She has been self-medicating her cough, you see, with honey, a popular home remedy for the ailment.  

“Honey?  I respect that,” comments this genial bear.  “But that cough looks pretty bad!”  He extends a helpful paw to offer a box of Robitussin.  “Try this new Robitussin Honey!”  This is a better bruin; articulate, affable, and helpful.  We cut then to the announcer commentary…“the real honey you love, plus the powerful cough relief you need.”

Then it’s back to the woman and bear again.  “Mind if I root through your trash?,” he asks the woman.  It only seems a fair exchange, after all, and the bear’s been so helpful.  But sadly in this brief 15 second spot, we are not told if she grants permission to this rare bear…

…in my crazed mind, I would like to see a television series that unites a number of commercial animal spokes-creatures, including this bear, Maxwell the pig, and of course the Lactaide “milk that messes with you” cow.  We’ll throw in Tony the Tiger, Toucan Sam, and other guest animals.  It would be just the thing to heal us from the vicious political mid-term election attack ads now dunning us at every commercial interval.  And this bear? – – better than your average politician, hey hey hey hey! – – I’d vote for him!

The Myrbetriq Bladder Commercial…

October 16, 2018

 

I, for one, worry about my internal organs becoming uppity, detaching themselves from the collective of my body, and leading me around by the hand with clear designs of influencing my behavior.  A case in point is the anthropomorphic bladder in a Myrbetriq commercial for overactive bladder depicted as kind of an apple-shaped thing with overly-large and expressive eyes.  It’s a disquieting mixture of creepy and cute, a kind of bizarre but unique pet which is dragging its owner off to the bathroom at frequent and inconvenient intervals.  We all know what to do about the problem; see a doctor, and medicate the little bastard!

Now there are undeniably occasions when it might prove advantageous to have an auxiliary bladder, especially if you could somehow wirelessly transmit surplus urine to it to handle those times of overload, say when you’ve downed several cups of coffee or glasses of cola.  Diuretics can be so inconvenient, and no one wants to traipse off to the bathroom any more often than you have to.  But people might talk if you waltzed about with your internal organs visible, or at least diagnose you with an active mental illness for presuming that such was possible.  “My bladder is giving me fits.  What do you mean, you can’t see him?!”

I suppose that there might be anthropomorphic organ pets even worse than an overactive bladder; a spastic colon, for example.  But for the time being, I’ll just resolve to keep my internal organs all wrapped up in myself, where they properly belong.  I don’t care if they don’t like it…and I don’t want to hear their organ recitals, either…ahahahaha!