In this day and age where men and women treat their genitals like baseball cards, haphazardly trading them to multiple people for a variety of prices, it’s socially responsible to practice safe sex. Half the battle is in the advertising. Take a look at 44 of the best examples of how to convince people to treat the man’s penis like a hostage with Stockholm Syndrome.
There are two schools of thought when it comes to generating excitement for the 2010 World Cup. You can go the 20 million dollar Alejandro Inarritu route, or you can do a print ad that insinuates that a ton of women around the world are going to be feeding the kitty while their significant other roots for his favorite team. I’ll let you decide which one is more effective.
Keep your privates in your pants, Private! These propaganda posters which span both World Wars warn of the risk of catching an STD. A friend of a friend of a friend informed me that catching the clap is like getting your pecker stuck in a trip wire behind enemy lines. But that’s purely the opinion of a friend’s friend’s friend.
Bulgarian vodka company Flirt offers you this great promotion, ladies. For every empty bottle of swill you bring in, you receive a shiny new pack of knee pads! No more sleepless nights because you have rug-burned knees from giving so many blowjobs praying.
Knucklehead extraordinaire Paris Hilton has seen her Devassa beer ad pulled from the airwaves in Brazil after network watchdogs have deemed the spot “offensive to blondes.” You know you’re a slag when a country that prides itself on banana hammocks and beaver waxing is complaining about your overly sexual performance.
I wonder how they’re going to feel when they see her Carl’s Jr. ad that features Paris spanking herself with two meat patties?
New Orleans nightclub, Republic, has issued a new dress code aimed at the type of folks who take style tips from The Situation and Pauly D. I tried to shoot them an email to see if this new policy also included tan lines, herpes sores, and that blurred box that shows up every time Snookie decides to shake her money maker, but I haven’t heard back.
You may have noticed, the Stupor Bowl went down yesterday. I heard it suggested that they move the game to Saturday, allowing America a day to recover before trudging back to work. My brain, liver and intestines would like to publicly endorse this idea. Wings n’ beer are not just for breakfast anymore, but that doesn’t mean you won’t regret overconsuming them the next day. I now realize the error of my ways yesterday and hope to make smarter, safer decisions in the future. Here are some other thoughts I had throughout the day.
- For me, the main theme going in to the game was that it defined you as a sports fan. Are you one who tends to root for the underdog? Then the Saints are your team. Do you prefer to see perfection, watch legends-in-the making, and get caught up in the hyperbole of sports history? Then you should root for Peyton Manning and the Colts.
- It’s always a dangerous practice for one player to be contemplated as the best ever going in to the championship game. We went through this in 2008 when the favored Lakers took on the Celtics and going into the series, every blowhard sports pontificator went on and on about whether Kobe Bryant was better than Michael Freaking Jordan. Is he at the table!? In the conversation?!! Who would YOU want with the ball and the game on the line!!?? Needless to say, the Lakers lost in 6. The funny thing is the athlete in question does nothing to fan these flames except be great. It’s not like Peyton Manning showed up at media day with a F%&@ UNITAS t-shirt on. Yet the pre-game coverage was 30% on Dwight Freeney’s ankle, 20% on Saints legend Archie Manning rooting for the Colts, and 50% on the greatness of Peyton Manning and the level at which he was performing. From now on, if your team’s best player is constantly being considered the best ever going into the big game, you should be very, very nervous.
- If you want me to purchase your product, you are best served having a humorous animal in your overpriced Super Bowl ad. Give me violin virtuoso beavers over Danica Patrick any day of the week.
- Speaking of which, hey Go Daddy- if I want to watch porn on the internet, I’ll watch porn on the internet. I’m not gonna go to your lame ass website to watch girls in tank tops. Trying to send dudes to the internet to watch your pretty-yet-clothed vixens is like sending a drug enthusiast to Amsterdam for a light beer.
This clever little number definitely could have come courtesy of Sterling Cooper. I think a lot of the world’s problems can be attributed to over caffeinated jag-offs, who put this false sense of intelligence into some of the stupidest ventures imaginable. How else do you come up with a clothing line where ninjas, robots, tigers, and butterflies are fighting a civil war?
The only time I ever drank a Monster, I woke up in a cold sweat, and both Cousin Larry and Balki were laying in a pool of blood on my floor.
And while you’re at it, the grass isn’t going to cut itself either. Have a little pride in your work. You can have your liberated Kate with eight, I’m all for the Rosie Dishpanhands. Don’t forget to clean under the sink, too. There’s plenty of junk under there, most notably Reno’s view on politics and his closet infatuation with Arianna Huffington. No blogging until all the tupperware is clean.
photo (via)
Gookie is manufactured by a Taiwanese company (Want Want Foods), and sold in places such as Japan and Korea. Because the term is only derogatory in English, chalk this one up to poor translation.
Interestingly, this product was sold in China until 1985.
