Sometimes adverts annoy me…
I get easily annoyed, as you know, but adverts… grrrrrrrr….
Perfect world adverts:
o The guy who beats his kid with a newspaper and then brags about how he’s earning “up to £30,000 a year” working for RED driving school.
o I want to do a poo at Paul’s house. Why? – doesn’t your mummy wipe round the gritter enough? – no – because Paul has a clicky pushy air freshener. One of the branded ones, not the 4 for a pound specials from Poundland that smell vaguely of lemon, but somewhat of dishwasher solution.
o This advert… for a local very large housing estate full of little boxes made of ticky tacky which informs us that if you live here, as well as being saddled with a huge mortgage, you will be a young couple – the male version wearing pale coloured chino trousers with his shirt tucked in but open, whilst being cuddled by a wife wearing a little black number. You will, of course, drink wine (although with the size of your mortgage it will more likely be Lambrini).
Meanwhile… a couple of things I’ve noticed…
1. Why, in adverts for things such as washing detergent etc. do people only wear white or very pale coloured clothes. You never see “New Ariel Goth Protect with added blackeners”.
2. also… have you noticed that all number plates are totally reversable? – flick any advert number plate in a mirror and you still have something readable. Plenty of W, O, V, U, 8, 0 ,1 and other flippable digits. I guess it’s so they only have to make an advert for one hand of drive and then mirror it when they show it in a country where they drive on the wrong/right side. I bet it makes it difficult to find a location with no writing on any signs on it…
Anyway, I’m now going to put on my beige chinos, pastel blue shirt and live at Woodlaithes Village, because if you live there… you can.
I hate adverts.