What is a fiasco? An italian supermarket or a peculiarly picante soft drink?

It is neither. It is what you call driving out to the city through swarms of traffic only to end up coming back having NOT sung at karaoke and NOT drank a single drop of liquor. And why did this go down like a lead balloon? Because I could not, for the life of my future kids, find the party that I was invited to. In the meantime I managed to be invited into several forbidden worlds. Should I have gone to the 30-girl sweet sixteen party in the big room as they requested? I can only assume Go and his Go-horts were singing in an alternate dimension Duets, where dogs walk people and pancakes are what’s for dinner because I searched every inch of the real Duets and nobody showed up.

On the plus side I saved fifty bucks.

Best of Ad Times, Blurst of Ad Times

The alternate name I had for this blog was “The Blurst of Times.” To my amazement, someone else had that already.

Ad campaign I hated with a passion: Alltel’s Chad Series.


I hate this man’s face. I hate the nerds v. jocks cutesiness. I hate this song. Fuck this.

Runner-up: America Runs on Dunkin’. It’s like a copy of a copy of a copy. Wittiness lost in translation. Intentions killed in a boardroom.

Ad campaign I dug: Wendy’s red-haired dream.

Someone had a bad drug trip. This series of ads actually got better the more whacked out it got. Like all good things though… too much for too long.