this was one of my favourite advertisement as a kid!!
My favourite advertisement is ….
I am a massive .com advocate and so I just LOVE the Yahoo! ads. They arent that present in Australia although I do remember a few of them. Thanks to our global citizen media here is my favourite advertisement from Yahoo! proudly presented by YouTube.
What I like is 2 things
1. Brand Promise – Ok [...]
That was my favourite advertisement.
I have spent most evenings doing an imitation of a potato in front of the TV. There is, as to be expected, a lot of advertising aimed at getting the viewer to part with their hard-earned cash. My favourite advertisement is made by a company that sells spectacles: a veterinarian mistakes his assistant's furry hat (shapka) for a Persian cat and, while the baffled cat looks on, calls for a resuscitator when he can't find a pulse, a Star Wars warrior realises that his laser beam sword is actually a cricket bat and a Shetland shepherd accidentally shears his collie dog mistaking it for a sheep... Estonia can easily match UK TV programmes in vacuity, especially American ones. The always young and smiling characters have obviously been watching the ads, as their teeth and hair are immaculate. Some brains seem to have been scrubbed clean of content too. I watched a "comedy" where a bimbo felt the need to conceal a pimple on her face by wearing a bicycle helmet. I didn't bother to watch the end. Documentary channels are almost as bad. The airwaves are swamped with British and American programmes about the possibly fabulous value of that old piss pot that's been a home for the Ficus Elastica for years. Such programmes are not likely in Estonia as, at the time of writing, Soviet memorabilia is not treasured and there isn't much left from the Eesti aeg because anyone (as in Valgus Koordis) in possession of a potted plant was suspected of being a bourgeois nationalist enemy of the people with all the nasty outcomes that this implied. An Estonian friend was once shocked to see a Soviet army uniform (acquired from a junk shop) hanging in my London front hall. I bought it to wear to a Halloween horrors party: my friend was (the Virgin) Mary and I was Joseph (Stalin). I had a black moustache made from a bit of old bin liner. Lured by the thought of fabulous wealth in the guise of antique piss pots, I sent some pictures of my old china and glass to an auctioneer. I was told that nothing was worth more than £50. So my mum's old china, including a pretty pale blue, white and gold tea set given to her for her wedding in 1939, has been carefully bubble-wrapped and sent to Estonia where it will be used when friends come for tea, cake and toast. Some British habits are charming and well worth preserving.