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Nothing But Net: For the Week of Sept. 3 – Sept. 9


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Durex Ads

I feel like the only real way to market condoms is to just take the idea and shove it in people’s faces. No beating around the bush; just stick it out there. I can’t even imagine how they were advertised decades ago, when a man who looked at a woman’s teeth was accused of letting his eyes wander south and a woman was hit with indecent exposure for eating an ice cream cone. What was it like to go to the beach in the ’60s? “Bro, check out that chick with the one-piece bathing suit—it’s got the same print as my bathroom wallpaper. And she’s wearing low-rise pantaloons. HOT.” My dad is about 100 years old and he calls condoms prophylactics. So a typical ad might have been a washed-out picture of a young man in a three-piece suit with a comb-over gesturing to a young lady wearing a turtleneck, “Hey Sally, would you fancy engaging in intercourse tonight? DON’T WORRY, I USE DUREX PROPHYLACTICS.”

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Foodlebrities

Foodlebrities = Food + Celebrities. So simple, and so genius. SOMETIMES. The mashing-up of a celeb name and food works really well—Stevie Wonderbread, Melon DeGeneres, Ice Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Chicken Tikka Masalvador Dali. And the Photoshops to go along with them are horribly bad. (I asked our ad designer Ryan to submit one of Carrot Top—the free BINGO space of Foodlebrities—but no bite yet.) But food + celebrities can also = an absolute travesty, i.e. when they open restaurants. The names are absolutely atrocious: Beso (Eva Longoria), Destino (Justin Timberlake), Dolce (the douchebags from That ’70s Show)—if any professional arsonists read this column, I’ve got three places in mind that could use a fresh coat of fire. But wait Brad! The celebs get involved with their restaurants! They cook all the food! Help choose eclectic cuisines from different parts of the globe! Pick out the dishes! And hire somebody to do the decorating! Wow, celebrities really are so multi-faceted! (*lights flamethrower*)

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The Men Who Stare At Goats

Considering our government still gives subsidies to farmers, it’s not too far-fetched to imagine it investing in psychic warriors. But to make a movie about it? That’s almost as crazy as making a movie about spy hamsters that save the worl…oh. (AND IT MADE $160 MILLION. WTF WORLD?) The Men Who Stare At Goats stars George Clooney in yet another “look at me, I’m George Clooney! I date supermodels and everyone thinks I’m 60!” roles as some super-elite mind warrior. I guess it’s kind of cool that despite being an A-list celeb and robbing me of People’s Sexiest Man Alive award in 1997 and 2006, he does these un-Hollywood movies. But with the money he’s got, you’d think they could afford a hair stylist on set—the looks these guys are trying to pull off (Clooney with a hybrid of his ’stache from O Brother, Where Art Thou and Burn After Reading, Kevin Spacey rocking a Yosemite Sam and Jeff Bridges doing his best Rapunzel impersonation) should earn Goats an NC-17 rating. I WANT A RECOUNT, PEOPLE!

PICTURES

WWII Propaganda

What’s that saying? “Don’t believe everything you read, unless it’s in ‘NBN,’” or something like that? It’s good advice—if I believed everything my parents told me I’d be a completely different person. Sit at least 10 feet from the TV or my eyes will go bad? How can I see Kim Kardashian’s cellulite from that far back? Look both ways before you cross the street? Why, did the street get paved? I’ve seen the street at least 100 times; I’m not falling for that trick anymore. Always eat your vegetables? Vegetables are like the second or third tier on the food pyramid. I want to be at the top—that’s why I eat donuts and ice cream for every meal! And apparently this isn’t new—the propaganda coming out of WWII was some grade-A BS too. Except the one about Yanks sleeping with the wives of British soldiers. I’m counting down the days until David Beckham gets sent into Afghanistan. I’d bomb Posh Spice’s Pearl Harbor…right fellas?! (*chest bump*).

Follow me on Twitter!

I was with my parents the other day and social networking came up. We were debating the pros of marketing with Twitter and…ha ha, just kidding. My dad is 5,000 years old and uses the word “Tweetering.” If you’re under the age of 50, stop by twitter.com/BradPareso

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