I can’t get over the quality of Google’s 2010 Super Bowl commercial. I know this probably comes as a shock for my multiple (possibly) readers since I usually fill this blog with cleverly disguised negativity. But Google’s Parisian Love commercial doesn’t make me angry OR make me question the longevity of the human race. If you aren’t shocked by this news, please take your time perusing Mediabane’s extensive archive.

The Parisian Love commercial is the most popular of Google’s “search on” commercials, and, since the ad ran during Super Bowl XLIV, (I think that stands for a million) a lot of people have seen it. But the ad is so good that I think it deserves a little more exposure.

If that doesn’t tug at the rusted chain attached to the small engine those doctors in Iran installed to try and keep your heart beating, I don’t know what will. For those who can’t be bothered to watch the short ad, I’ll summarize. A guy goes to Paris, meets a girl, falls in love, gets married, and has a baby.

That ad sounds like it sucks, doesn’t it? Looking at my summary of the Google Parisian Love commercial, it should suck. If someone told me about  a commercial that involved a guy falling in love with a girl in Paris, I’d first ask if the “commercial” was really an Anne Hathaway movie. Then I’d yell “I KNEW IT. NICE TRY, MOTHERFUCKER” and run off into the night.

But Google makes the Parisian Love commercial not suck by having the plot progress entirely through Google searches. This brings an added layer of humanity to the commercial because most people can relate to solving life problems with the help of Google. Now that I think about it, that’s kind of sad in itself. After Google connects with their audience, they up the emotion by playing a song that is almost sad. This is a trick that a lot of media uses. It’s the reason I cried at the end of Critters.

I’m guessing that the view of the commercial is so zoomed in because no matter what Google typed into the search box, the bottom suggestions always had to do with pornography. This was probably a huge problem after they decided on a French girl as the love interest.

I’d be interested in seeing a bunch of taboo “search on” commercials based on things like “how to run a dictatorship” and “stalking mylie cyrus,” but I never get what I want.

I‘ve heard that cigarettes are addictive, but I’ve never tried them myself. For this reason, I’m not sure if someone would give someone else a blow job for a cigarette. I’m sure it has happened in the past when some poor college student ran out of smokes right before a big exam or something, but that’s a perfect storm of a situation involving low finances, stress, and essay questions on Constitutional law.

Maybe it’s a bigger problem over in France, where the ads I’m about to show you originate. Maybe you can’t even walk down the street over there without someone offering to blow you for half a Marlboro. But if that was the case, France would have a much larger tourism industry.

I can't read French, but I'm guessing that says something about deep throat cancer.

How does he expect to get anything out of that cigarette with such poor lip form?

The idea behind these ads is that every time you smoke, you’re giving some tobacco executive a blow job. I read somewhere that over 15 billion cigarettes are sold daily, so there are either a whole lot of tobacco executives or each tobacco executive is hooked up to some kind of grid comprised of millions and millions of penises.

Since cigarettes cause cancer, does that mean that ejaculate from a tobacco executive’s penis also causes cancer? Someone should file a report and get the word out before the global escort industry is decimated.

All joking aside, I think these ads are important. If we can’t manage to convict tobacco executives for killing off large portions of our population, maybe we can get them on the sexual abuse of minors. A surprising number of kids start smoking every day. I’m just saying.

~thanks Buzzfeed

post image by Fazen

Listen, ladies. Waxing your vagina is so 2001. Finding a mate is hard, especially if you’re just fighting waxed vagina with waxed vagina. What are you going to do if you aren’t that attractive or have a well-documented history of domestic abuse?

Thankfully, Jennifer Love Hewitt has brought Vajazzling into the mainstream. This practice, once only attempted by women smuggling precious jewels out of countries like Africa, involves the adhesion of sparkly things to the top of the vagina. I’m not really sure if there’s a technical term for the top of the vagina. Pleasure-less hump? I’m guessing here.

Over on The Luxary Spot, Bryce wrote an article titled “I Got Vajazzled (and had a camera crew)” about her first-hand experience getting little crystals glued to her vagina. After my initial disappointment finding out that “and had a camera crew” didn’t mean that Bryce’s shiny new vagina secured her a sexual adventure with an entire camera crew, I found out some helpful facts about Vajazzling.

The absence of power tools is reassuring

Unfortunately, I don’t think our society is making the best use of this wonderful new technology. The result of Bryce’s Vajazzling was a cute little pattern of crystals that she can now use to gather and reflect available light if her power goes out. But there is potential for much more.

Advertisement Real Estate

A little batch of crystals might convince that pickpocket to take you back to his “workshop” under the subway, but this practice of Vajazzling has the potential to turn vaginas into prime spots for advertising. Women should be trying to sign deals with innovative companies that aren’t afraid to take advertising risks.

Apple’s new iPad is about to hit the market. I think that “iPad” spelled out in crystals above a few hundred vaginas could really help get the word out about the new product. Prostitutes and strippers could make a fortune based on how many eyes pass in front of their vaginas on a daily basis.

Even Google could get in on the action. The words “Google it!” above your vagina would not only be a funny conversation piece between you and the guy you pick up at whatever bar (assuming he can read), but from that moment on, that guy would know that Google is the place to find vaginas.

For women who’d rather not sell that precious advertising space, there are plenty of ways to use Vajazzling to make a personal statement. For example. the word “Help” in crystals above a vagina ensures that every guy you meet knows the desperation of your situation.

But you could also Vajazzle things that you like. Something like “nagging the shit out of you until I whittle down your spirit into something easily crushed by my clawed hand” might be too long, but that could easily be replaced with a word more to the point like “yelling.” Other women might want to list a few of their hobbies at the top of their vaginas. Specific hobbies like “figure skating” would work really well, and, in figure skating’s case, the sparkling of the crystals would symbolize the sparkle of the ice. Be careful with hobbies that are too vague or that could be misunderstand. For example, Vajazzling the word “movies” might make potential suitors believe that pornography is required for vaginal access.

Can men get Vajazzled?

Most men can’t get Vajazzled because they don’t have vaginas. I hear that some scientists are working on technology that would allow men to graft functioning vaginas to easily accessible locations like the palms of their hands. But the science still needs years to mature and will probably mean the end of the human race.

However, I don’t see any reason why men can’t get the top of their penises Pejazzled. It would limit available partners since thrusting crystals against flesh is rarely a pleasurable experience. Pejazzled men would only be able to have sex with Vajazzled women or women with large amounts of pubic hair, since both would buffer the friction of the crystals.

Of course, some people like a little pain with their pleasure, so the sensation of sharp crystals against raw flesh might be a bonus. For couples who like a lot of pain with their pleasure, I’m sure it’s possible for women to get the inside of their vaginas Vajazzled. The resulting jagged cavern would probably feel about the same as fucking the mouth of one of those sandworms from Beetlejuice.

The good thing about men getting Pejazzled is that it would allow even more advertising options. For example, let’s say you’re a man looking for a girl that shares your taste in music. You could get the word “Blink” Pejazzled at the top of your genitals and then just search for the girl with “182″ Vajazzled. Or, if you’re into swinging and interested in having a three-way, you could get the word “Creedence” Pejazzled and look for two girls or a guy and a girl sporting “Clearwater” and “Revival,” respectively.

As you can see, this new Vajazzling technology is boundless. I always thought that genital advertising was limited to something permanent like a tattoo or something unflattering like Bedazzled denim panties. I’m so glad I was wrong.

You are what you eat, which is why I’ve been eating nothing but imported Care Bears for the past ten years. I should be able to shoot some kind of power beam out of my chest any day now. The next person who laughs at my elven facial features is in for a nasty surprise. Note: eating Care Bears can lead to elven facial features.

But what would happen if I only ate vegetables? Would I be able to self pollinate? Would rabbit attacks become a very real and dangerous threat? According to this ad from the International Vegetarian Union, that’s exactly what would happen.

It’s official — I’m off ginger. Look at it clogging up the place where feces are supposed to fester. Have you ever tried to pass a ginger root? Those little knobs all over each root aren’t pleasure enhancers.

What happened to this person’s arms? Were they made out of big carrots until the person got so hungry from eating nothing but ginger and tomatoes that he gnawed his own arms off? If so, where are the carrots on the inside? This thing isn’t very accurate.

I’m a little concerned that my own lungs don’t look as healthy as the lungs in the ad. The person in the ad is obviously a non-smoker, or those lungs would be made out of marijuana or tobacco leaves. Marijuana’s a vegetable, right? THEN WHY HAVE I BEEN SPRINKLING IT ON MY SALADS?!?!

The main point of this ad is to convince people that “vegetables are all your body needs.” But wasn’t there a House episode where a guy had a bulb of garlic lodged in his throat and House made some joke like “at least we know he’s not a vampire” before hitting the guy on the back of the neck with his cane to dislodge the bulb. And then House used the bulb of garlic to make baked ziti for Wilson? Because in that case, a vegetable almost killed someone.

~Thanks Boing Boing

image flickred by sbocaj

Evel Knievel is best known for almost killing himself dozens of times for fame, money, and the thrill of almost killing himself dozens of times. But Evel Knievel also dabbled in other ways to make money. Take, for example. this very old ad for Evel Knievel frozen treats. They don’t look very appetizing to me, but I’m not an Evel Knievel fan. Maybe the trick is to squint at the advertisement and imagine the sicles jumping over some buses. Anyone could appreciate a nice ice-pop after the resulting fiery crash.

I like how they went through the trouble to label these the “official” Evel Knievel barely edible treats. Were a lot of people trying to use the Evel Knievel name to mount model rockets on sticks and then sell them to the gullible public? If I’m going to get cancer from a popsicle, it’s damn well going to be an official Evel Knievel popsicle.

That motor-sicle pop looks like it was molded from Evel’s bike after a nearly fatal jump. The color red was chosen because of the amount of blood covering the cycle.

As legit as the ad looks, I think it might be a mock ad put out by some kind of motorcycle safety organization. Doesn’t the kid eating that sky-sicle look a little brain damaged? That’s what happens when you try to slingshot your motorcycle off a flock of kites into a field of rubber tires and over the heads of forty lions. Something is bound to go wrong and leave you happily licking an iced rocket that tastes like a gasoline leak.

~Thanks Martin Klasch

Because of all the news stories about people throwing their babies into dumpsters, a lot of people think that a dumpster is a great place for a small child. At first, it makes sense. There’s a lot of stuff in a dumpster that a baby could play with, and heat from the rotting garbage would keep a baby warm.

But I’m here to tell you that throwing your baby into a dumpster is wrong. The infrastructure of an average township can’t handle a bunch of babies filling up all the dumpsters. Luckily, someone made a little advertisement that will hopefully put an end to people tossing their babies into dumpsters.

I don’t know — the baby looks pretty happy in the first picture. Sure, it’s upside down and streaking toward the mangled spokes of a deflated bike tire or a carpet of smashed Snapple bottles, but the risk of the ride is really half the fun.

Actually, the baby looks the same in the second picture. It’s happy no matter what. Maybe the lady is getting rid of the baby because its dopamine levels are all fucked up. It must be frustrating to beat a child over and over and over again while it giggles and makes funny faces.

The main problem I see with this ad is that the baby is missing the region of flesh that connects its legs to the rest of its body. Because of this, some people might think that this ad only applies to babies that got that little triangle of flesh cutout in a horrible Play-Doh accident. I’m not a doctor, but that seems like a pretty legitimate reason to throw a baby in the trash. I don’t think that nurse in the second picture has the medical skill to re-attach that area. Besides, once the flesh gets mixed with the other Play-Doh colors, it’s really impossible to get the correct skin-tone back.

~Thanks Buzz Feed

post image flickred by MarmotChaser

I think I do my part to help prevent climate change. I turn off the lights in rooms I’m not in, and I stopped leaving the fridge open to cool the kitchen. But every time I think I’m doing enough to help the environment, an organization releases an advertisement about something else that’s killing the earth.

Take, for example, this recent climate change ad by the forward thinkers at Plane Stupid. The members of Plane Stupid hate planes and aviation because of the amount of pollution produced by aircraft. They decided to help us all understand their position by dropping a polar bear on a car.

Do you see what you’re doing by visiting your family in Buffalo? If you loved the gentle polar bear, you’d hitchhike to Buffalo like a good citizen of the planet. I’d tell you to bring some mace just on the off chance that some crazy serial rapist picks you up, but spraying that stuff can’t be good for the ecosystem.

If I had designed that commercial, I would have went with penguins instead of polar bears. Everyone loves penguins. A penguin would probably give you a hug and maybe bring you a fish. Polar bears tear off a person’s skin and use it as a birthing-blanket.

My version of the commercial would also be a bit more logical and on point. How did those polar bears get up in the sky? Polar bears can’t fly, so someone must have kidnapped them, loaded them on a PLANE, and then dropped them from a couple thousand feet. How much fuel does a plane full of polar bears use? I bet it uses more fuel than a plane full of people considering how huge polar bears are and how low the pilot would have to keep the air conditioner to help the bears feel at home.

~Thanks Plane Stupid

That title is misleading. I didn’t actually replace this post with Fruit by the Foot. I can’t just go wasting Fruit by the Foot on random Mediabane posts. What would I eat for Thanksgiving dinner?

This Fruit by the Foot commercial makes me want to replace a bunch of stuff in my life with Fruit by the Foot. Instead of throwing away the stuff I don’t need, I could just turn it into Fruit by the Foot and work on gaining the weight needed to make my bony ass not hurt when I sit on flat surfaces.

That was obviously the kid on the left’s first Fruit by the Foot duel. Most professional Fruit by the Foot duelers that I know lead off with “I’ve replaced your tongue with Fruit by the Foot.” Without the power of voice, the other person can’t replace something on your body with Fruit by the Foot.

Of course, that strategy only works if you win the coin toss. You could lose the coin toss and get your own tongue replaced. This is why I always carry index cards and a sharpie marker. Just make sure you don’t replace your opponent’s eyes with Fruit by the Foot or you’ll fuck yourself.

The kid on the left made the rookie mistake of trying to point out how much he ruined his opponent’s life by turning his fingers to Fruit by the Foot. He had to rub it in his opponent’s face that that guitar would never again produce music. How do you play guitar with Fruit by the Foot fingers? You don’t. Based on the bleak surroundings, that kid had nothing else to do besides vacuum with that soviet-made vacuum cleaner or play USSR battle hymns on the guitar.

A Fruit by the Foot battle should never become personal. Emotions cloud your judgment. The kid on the left could have won that duel, but now the winner is eating pieces of his face. It’s a hard lesson to learn.

Every time a Netflix movie arrives, a piece of paper needs to get removed from the top of the envelope to get at the movie. When I lived in a house with wood stove, I used this scrap paper to start the stove. This probably released a bunch of chemicals into the air from Netflix’s red dye meeting flame, but I didn’t mind because I always wanted to sprout a dedicated masturbation tentacle.

One woman came up with her own solution for these scrap Netflix sheets. And I truly believe that it takes a special person to turn hideous Netflix garbage into wallpaper for a room that isn’t being used to torture suspected terrorists. This lady voluntarily uses a room that looks like it should be featured on a TLC program about mental illness. I wish I was made from such stern stuff.

She dusts by setting the walls on fire.

I’m not really getting her abstract style. Would it have killed her to put the envelopes on the wall in some kind of uniform manner? This random arranging of the envelopes looks like it was done by some kid she locked in the room with a stack of Netflix envelopes and a bottle of caffeine pills. Maybe we’re witnessing a new child punishment technique. We can’t tell from the picture, but first she makes the kid watch a bunch of shitty Netflix rentals.

I wonder how she designed the rest of her house:

“Let’s go check out the kitchen. If you didn’t notice, I designed the walls in a ramen noodle motif. The technique is pretty simple: First I made my kid eat a bunch of ramen noodles. Oh, he liked it at first, but then I made him eat them dry. Next, I made the kid glue all the ramen packages to the walls of the kitchen. Finally, I sprayed industrial strength epoxy over the whole mess. I think it’s really added to the resale value.”

“This is the spare bedroom or “study” as my husband calls it when he isn’t making up excuses to be away from his house that I’ve turned into a dream Willy Wonka had that time he almost died from eating poisoned snuffle cherumps from the forest of sugar snot. If you look at the floor, you’ll notice I shredded a bunch of subscription renewal cards from Time magazine, mixed the shredded paper with mashed potato mix, and then spackled the floor in a cross-hatch pattern. The final touch is a random spattering of roach corpses after they came to eat the potato and got caught in my sticky web of design ingenuity!”

Maybe I’m being unfair. The room could look worse. I’m thinking about a way the room could look worse.

~Thanks Urlesque

Pedophilia isn’t a very popular topic. If you try bringing it up while standing in line at the bank or at the next baby shower you attend, you’ll see what I mean. I always thought it was a pretty major concern and high on the radar of most adults. But apparently some people still haven’t been educated enough about pedophilia, so the rest of us have to deal with anti-pedophilia advertising.

"That's right, Peter. Now pop it in reverse."

I like how the ad starts off with a kid on the carpet pushing a little truck and ends with him giving a blow job. Talk about a twist. Did M. Night Shyamalan make these ads?

This kid must be some kind of honor student because I couldn’t play with a toy truck and go down on some dude at the same time. I have a hard enough time checking emails while listening to music; my concentration is always flipping from one to the other.

Do you think that guy purchased that office chair just for this particular situation? It must have been difficult to tell the store clerk exactly what he wanted without giving everything away:

“I need a chair that I can roll into a room really quick and then roll out again if I hear Peter’s mo…  Peter’s Mortgage calling. That’s the company I work for — Peter’s Mortgage. Also, do you have any chairs that lower down to the height of a …. .. of a small dog, so I can easily pet him while I do my work. My work for Peter’s Mortgage.”

"Now do a grand plié."

No wonder Annie is a afraid of the dark — look at all those terrifying stuffed animals bubbling out of her dresser. Why are they climbing out of the drawers like that? It’s an infestation. Speaking of the stuffed animals, do you think the Winnie the Pooh people paid a little coin to appear in this ad? It seems like a risky gamble because it could make people identify Winnie the Pooh with pedophilia, but that Christopher Robin character already wasn’t helping that situation. Why do you think Eeyore’s so sad all the time? I bet Christopher Robin knows why Eeyore’s tail keeps “falling” off.

And who was that silhouette model? From where I’m sitting, it looks a little like Jakob Dylan from The Wallflowers. I’m not saying that Jakob Dylan is a pedophile, but he must be doing something to deal with the stress of sucking more than his 70 year old father.

The Penguin tried every trick in the book, but the little girl wouldn't give up the location of Batman

I don’t really understand the copy in these ads — “turn off the lights and help Emily overcome her fear of the dark.” That sounds like a terrible idea. These kids are obviously being molested by glow-in-the-dark apparitions of some sort, isn’t turning off the lights just asking for trouble?

Doctor: “Yeah, just snap off the lights. She’ll scream for a while, but eventually she’ll run out of energy and pass out. After a couple nights of that, her vocal chords will be too ravaged to produce any noise, so you should be able to get some sleep.

Parents: “….that sounds horrible.”

Doctor: “Horrible? Now that’s interesting. I never thought of it like that.”

~Thanks Hooked On Ads