Someone else has posted on this fucking advert, I thought I’d stick my two pennies worth in as it’s perpetually on.
Last night I noticed something about the main turd in the advert. In comparison to everyone else in the commercial he’s startlingly ugly, yet clearly the protagonist of some sort of ‘good’.
For a start he orders the drinks by thumbing a cocky finger in the direction of the token black man to his left (it’s okay, Strongbow drinkers aren’t all young racist working class cunts on the poverty line) and the au fait fop to his right (nor are they to be found in town centres beating the fucking shit out of anyone with a lisp). Strongbow man is the leader of the pack, the winner, and the go-getter…
Ugly’s two companions are bought ‘lager’. What a generous chap this Strongbow drinker is, despite looking as if he’s been formed for millions of years in a peat bog, he’s a bloody good bloke.
The lager-drinkers sip their pints and are briefly refreshed and get on with watching the football with all the handsome cheery men in the pub. But Ugly, as we know, stands there for most of the fucking night welded to the spot, mouth open exhaling loudly because he’s being that refreshed. What a barrel of laughs he must be on a Saturday night. All of his pals are seen in the background having a killer time as clearly their team score. Yes s s s s s s s…Not for Ugly, he’s in a world of his own.
After he’s snapped out of his trance he once again displays another act of philanthropy by offering his two under refreshed mates ‘crisps’. Crisps? No one has ever, ever looked at me and said ‘crisps?’ In fact, I don’t think in the history of pubs and crisps one man has ever turned to another and said ‘crisps’.
It’s a baffling bit of marketing. Obviously we (men) are supposed to somehow relate to the Ugly cunt because he’s not a groomed male model type, he’s a bloody good ugly bloke offering beer and crisps to all and sundry with a kind, open fizzog. But then he contributes nothing to the social bonding clearly taking place in the background; he doesn’t even notice his mates for an age, and they don’t notice him either. No one fucking cares even when he starts acting like a lunatic, no one comes over and checks to see if he’s alright, they just carry on as if it’s perfectly fucking normal to be stood stock still breathing loudly in one direction for an hour…
So where does this leave us? Somewhere like this: If you look like a bag of dented bells, whilst being prone to long, evening length, bouts of vertical epilepsy and have mates that only hang out with you because you buy the drinks and ‘crisps’, then drink Strongbow.