Continued from the introduction.
This is the easy part: pick out the distasteful, the poor, the pathetic, from the output this year. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. With dynamite.
But there are so many different ways to be bad, so we will merely subcategorize them here.
And you thought it was bad when you were only responsible for al-Qaida. Now, as it turns out, not only did you kill seven people in your subway car for your dime bag of weed, but pot made your daughter pregnant.
Viewers in our group, who were equally offended by last year's campaign, were put off by the shock-value approach taken by the Office of National Drug Control Policy in these ads, but their appearance, partly due to a 50% discount afforded the drug czar's office on ad buys, will presumably occur two at a time every fourth Sunday in January until someone comes to their senses.
Bud Light, who likely paid 35 cents for each of its bottles of yellowed soda water were consumed this Sunday, were trailblazers in the 12-year-old gross-out and uncontrollable-boner market segments this year. This one was just a step behind the rest. A man is advised that his girlfriend's mom is what the daughter will look like in 20 years, and the door opens to reveal a cartoonish, Chunky A-style booty. See, it's funny because he's gonna dump her for having a future fat ass!
Meanwhile, Coors Light ran its only ad of the game, an already-run tweak on its butt-rock standard, in which we see the ad fast-forwarded to a half-second shot of twin models repeatedly.
Both of these were hackneyed takes on existing works. Both attempted humor, and fell flatter than a Madison Avenue suicide jumper. Come on, folks. $2.1 million plus production costs for this?