Look, Dobbin - it's got an astrolabe!

I saw this poster recently, from which I have trimmed off the product name out of sheer spite. 

Elegance is an attitude. That's what Simon Baker thinks, and you can tell he means it, because he's signed his name under it. And then typed his name under that, in case you can't read his signature. Simon Baker, you will discover if you Google him, is an incredibly famous actor; and in his important opinion elegance is an attitude. Elegance is not something you can learn, or buy, or get from owning a particular product, presumably... it's an attitude. It's hard to describe what that attitude is, but you know it when you see it.  It's wearing a suit and tie when you show your watch to a horse. It's signing your name under all the philosophical quotes you come up with, like Aristotle would have done if he'd thought of it. It's being in black and white. It's an attitude. Simon Baker has it, obviously. Simon Baker's horse has it. Maybe three or four other people in the world have it. Everyone else will just have to try and make up for their innate lack of it by buying a ridiculously over-priced watch. 

Not me, though. Because as it happens, I too am one of those lucky possessors of that rarest of attitudes... elegance.

KFC: Putting the 'bleak' into midwinter.

Is this the most depressing Christmas advert in the history of the world?

I can't decide whether it's worse if you imagine someone has written that label to themselves in a moment of bitter rage, hence the savagely sarcastic repetition of 'happy'; or as a genuine attempt to give themselves a bit of a lift by pretending the bag of takeaway fried chicken for one they're having for  Christmas dinner is a present. 

Either way, the really heart-breaking touch is the kiss at the end. 

Ho Ho… No, No, God No!

Ah, Christmas is coming, and good old Costa coffee are celebrating with some Little Moments of Festive Fun. How heart-warming. Little moments of festive fun, such as… the bloodily decapitated body of Father Christmas.

…Thanks, Costa. Merry Christmas to you too.

Who would have thought a biscuit could be punchable?

Hello, sorry it's been so long.

Now, I am a staunch biscuit supporter. Biscuits and me go way back. Biscuits can rely upon me as one of their staunchest supporters / devourers. Which makes it all the more painful when a biscuit betrays this trust by having something this nauseating written on it: 

Oh, god. That's so hateful I very nearly didn't eat the biscuit.

Very nearly.

Also, Allington Nursery and... what?

Hello. There will be a 'Newcastle' post, but not until Monday. Real life is in the way. In the meantime, though, and from the same cycle ride as the Salad Depot, the most English 'advert' imaginable.

I was going to crop it to just the top half, which is the bit that made me take the photo. But actually, I like the bottom half as well. 'Showroom'?

Next on the agenda: my autumn wardrobe.

Awful advert I saw yesterday but couldn't take a picture of:

Picture of the drink in question. Slogan: 

Your summer refreshment. Nailed.

Well, thank the ruddy God for that. I don't mind telling you, this whole issue of my summer refreshment was shaping up to be a major balls ache, which is basically the last thing I bloody need right now, and I'm frankly deeply chuffed to hear the issue's been well and truly nailed before it could become a major trauma.

Sandra, get that useless bugger Mike on the blower, tell him to call in the summer refreshment task force and fire their sorry arses. The thing's been nailed.  

I think Lykke Li and I probably shouldn't get married. Which is a shame, because I imagine I'm just her type.

Sorry for the poor quality picture - if you can't read it, it represents a privileged glimpse into the philosophy of Lykke Li; who is, apparently, one of Sweden's leading Slight Curves. The creed by which she lives is as follows: "I believe life's too short for compromises and bad fitting jeans." 

As it happens, I was approached to do this ad first - I would have been identified as a Bulgy Slab. The quote I submitted was "I believe that life is impossible without compromises, and indeed that developing the art of compromise, with others and one's self, is life's most vital skill; but that what life is far, far too short for is having a 'custom jeans fitting at a Levi's store near you'."

 I never heard back. 

Also, check that they're apple trees. Or you'll be there a while.

...No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure when you want a eureka moment, you need to take a few baths. I believe what you're thinking of is what you should do when you want a few apples. Happy to help. 

Whatever my faults...

...and they are many; I am absolutely not the sort of person who would ever wish a heart attack on anyone. 

Therefore I have nothing to say about this 'advert' for Cheltenham race course. Nothing at all. 

Nothing. At all. 

Maybe they had them already?

Hope you had a good Christmas. I, probably like most of you, gave everyone in my family plastic co-axial aerial sockets, and small grub screws. Oddly enough, some of them seemed a little unimpressed, despite the clear assurances I was given by the shop where I bought them.

Completely inexplicable.

Obviously, I'm just jealous of Pete.

Then, I went to the Edinburgh festival, which looks like this:

...and where the local bus company was trying to exploit the frantic pace of life at the festival to promote their online ticket service.

Yep, megabusy. That's the word alright. Why, this have-it-all burn-the-candle-at-both-ends lover of life has no sooner finished attending the tattoo on Tuesday, then, pausing only to do nothing at all for a day and a half, it's time for dinner with Pete x! (That 'x' presumably either because his surname is Ximenes, or to remind her that she has to kiss him this time.) And barely has she managed to catch her breath from that then, a scant thirty-six hours later, it's time for that much anticipated kids theatre show1.30pm smiley face. Yes, when you're as megabusy as this, you pretty much have to pay for bus travel online. When else would you find the time to do it?  Wednesday?

Oh, and a flower on a stick.

Well, after all that excitement, who's up for an Acme Special Cocktail?

Certainly stunted mutant Elvis is; he's got himself all dressed up in his favourite baby blue romper suit, he's very carefully laced his shoes, and he's proudly displaying the tiny thumb which qualifies him for a disability discount on all cocktails composed of five or six varieties of dirty dishwater, topped off with a layer of Fairy Liquid and a mysterious blue ball. 'Special' indeed.

Still, it's American, apparently, so it must be good.

This is a popular brand of bottled water in Sri Lanka:

Am I wrong to find the slogan a little... intimidating? 'Just drink it! Don't think about it! Just drink it! Don't worry about what's in it! Stop asking questions! Just drink it! Just DRINK it! DRINK IT!' 

Our Wine & Spirits Pledge: Helping you get cirrhosis of the liver.

Dear Tesco. (I imagine you read this blog.) I recently enjoyed this sign in one of your excellent shops, but I just wondered if you could explain to me what these twelve words actually mean? When you say 'Our Fruit and Veg Pledge', it's very stirring, but it does rather raise the expectation that you're about to make some sort of, well, pledge, perhaps relating to your fruit and veg. Something about the freshness, maybe, or the extent to which they're locally sourced, or, if you like, a pledge only to sell fruit and veg that if hollowed out could house an average sized muskrat, but something. Instead, you have 'Helping you get your 5 a day'. How? What are you pledging to do to help me get that? Give me my first five pieces of fruit free? Refuse to sell me cakes and ale unless I also buy fruit and veg? No. What you mean by 'Helping you get your 5 a day' is 'Prepared to sell you fruit and veg'. Which I sort of suspected, Tesco, because you are a grocery. 

So, can I suggest you don't really need 'Helping you get your 5 a day' on that sign, and you certainly don't need 'Our' or 'pledge'. All you really need is 'Fruit & Veg'. And even then, since the sign is above an enormous display of fruit and veg, we could perhaps take the signified for the signifier, and drop those words as well. Which just leaves us with the four wispy dancing stick people. You should definitely keep them. They're beautiful. 

Mad Men. No, actually mad.

Advertising has got very sophisticated these days, very subtle; but sometimes a good advertising executive has got to know when to go back to basics, to the old reliable methods that always have sold product, and always will. 

Sometimes, in other words, it's time to wheel out a cartoon of a little girl shouting into a dog's arsehole. 

Now just sit back, and watch them fly off the shelves.

...And the Dutch, who are probably high, may or may not have something to say about our pepper.

Quote from the blurb on the back of a packet of sea salt:

"The French, as fussy about health as they are about food, make great claims for the rare salts contained in Sea Salt."

This may be the most arm's-length recommendation of one's own product I've ever read.

"The French..." (Not us, you understand, we're not French. And not any particular French. Just, you know, the nation in general)

"...as fussy about health as they are about food..." (Silly faddy Frenchies. I wouldn't listen to any claims they might happen to make, the big Gallic fuss-pots.)

"...make great claims..." (We're not saying what the claims are. And we're certainly not saying whether or not they're true. In fact, with the adjective 'great', we're rather hinting they're not.)

"...for the rare salts contained in Sea Salt." (So, just so we're clear, these unspecified and unsubstantiated claims made by unidentified people are not, in fact, for our product, but for trace elements found within it. So, no suing, Ok? But, yeah, basically, salt is good for you.)

Pieces of advertising material that have recently annoyed me - part six of at least nine.

For a phone company, answering the question 'What would you do if you had free texts for life?'

Would you now. So, Chris Addison's ugly cousin, you've been wanting to start a superband for a while, have you, but what's held you back is that the only way you can think of to contact 'all the musicians you know' is by text; and you're not prepared to go to that expense unless, in some utopian dream-world, a phone company gives you free texts for life. You see, I worry that you might not quite have the drive it takes to succeed in the music business.

Also, surely you can't start with a superband? You have to have a band first, you can't skip straight to 'superband'. Unless they missed out the space, and he's actually planning to start a super band. With topping drums, and spiffy guitars. I do hope so.

Pieces of advertising material that have recently annoyed me - part five of at least three.

Wow! Surely, this is the very epitome of daring fusion cuisine - McDonalds, but thrillingly combined with the exotic tastes of western America! It seems like madness, but McDonalds dare to dream. And what is it they most dearly hope to gain from this previously unheard-of 'western' influence on their burgers? Why, sophistication, of course! Because if there's one quality the people of Utah, Wyoming and Arizona pride themselves in having above all others, it's sophistication. They might not be able to rope a steer like those folks in Boston, and you can bet they're always gonna come off worst in a fist-fight with a Parisian, but hoo boy, when it comes to sophistication, they've got 'em all licked.

Also, at some point he falls in love.

At the cinema, there was an advert for something or other to do with the cinema itself, advance booking or something, that involved several ultra-mini-trailers for forthcoming films. One, in its entirity, went like this:

Clip one- Footage of second best special effect. Solemn Character: 'Evil has returned.'

Clip two- Footage of best special effect. Brave Character: 'We have to find the Dragonball!'

Now, I've got nothing against that sort of movie,  but it strikes me that that is pretty much its perfect length. This is literally all I know about 'Dragonball', but I bet I already know as much about the characters and plot from those two sentences as I ever would from a ninety-odd minute film. I suppose the director might argue that the edited version above lacks closure, and would want it at least doubled so as to include the lines:

Clip three - Brave Character: 'We've found the Dragonball!'

Clip four - Solemn Character: 'Evil has gone away again.'

But to be honest, I think he's wrong. I don't think anyone was in any doubt whether the Dragonball would be found and Evil would go away, or whether the Dragonball would forever remain down in the crack behind the washing machine, and Evil would settle in and start choosing new carpets. In fact, on the contrary, I think the edited version is still a bit flabby. Here's my ideal cut:

Footage of best special effect. 

Wise Character - Evil.

Brave Character - Dragonball!

That'll be £9.50, please, not including popcorn. 

Pieces of Advertising Material That Have Recently Annoyed Me: Part Four of at Least Three.

This is an extraordinary one. The first time I saw this billboard, I literally spluttered. Yes, spluttered, like a man who has recently employed Frank Spencer to carry out a simple manual task, and has just returned to see what sort of a fist he's made of it. Sorry about the poor quality photo, but not as sorry as I am about the poor quality advert:

All together now: Yes it is! It is absolutely Christmas if it is not Young's. In fact I would go so far as to say it's not Christmas if it is Young's. Because Young's make Scampi Kievs!

Meals that are less Christmassy than Scampi Kievs: 

• Gruel. 
  
• Chopped liver and matzoh balls 
  
• Fricassee of Rudolph.
  
• That's it. 

Honestly, it's bad enough watching Magners try to convince us that cider is a drink particularly associated with every single season of the year, but this is worse. What interests and appalls me about it most is: who do Young's think they're going to convince with this hoarding? Who is so titanically gullible, and also so chronically insecure about getting Christmas right that they'll see this and think 'Oh no! I had no idea! I've got the turkey, the sprouts, the pudding, the brandy butter, and the mince pies, but I haven't got any Young's Scampi Kievs to put in the children's stockings! Christmas is ruined!' Presumably someone with absolutely no conception of what Christmas is, but who is very eager to appear as if they do. Is 'Third Rock From The Sun' still going? Those guys. That's who Young's are targetting this Christmas. I hope the strategy worked out for them.