The boy Benneth, who you may remember as already having stained the passages of this site with his garbled meanderings about Cheese Strings, sent me this repetitive load of old cods wallop. Its not really a letter, or even a rant - but some sort of creative-writing experiment concerning what would happen if advertisers told the truth. A bit like in Liar Liar, only less contemptible. Why the hell am I encouraging this foolish mortal by posting his rubbish? Who can say. But here it is. Enjoy.

MAN AD

Men! Buy the new man product! As you can see from this shoddy CGI mockup of the product, it's all streamlined and stuff - like a jet fighter plane! Which according to our half-arsed psychological profiling of your beergut demographic, is what still appeals to you since you ceased to develop emotionally somewhere around the age of 14, and thus relate to everything in terms of shiny things that kill people!

Rad!

And look at this guy who's using the product right here. He's really big and buff, and has a gorgeous, conformo-standard naked girlfriend, BECAUSE OF THE PRODUCT! He wouldn't be worth shit without the product, and neither are you, so quit being a homosexual loser and buy it!

Also, from the same manufacturer, try out our new power tool! It's a cheap piece of shit manufactured for pennies in a Far Eastern country whose name you probably couldn't pronounce. But hey, IT LOOKS LIKE A GUN! A gun, which you associate with power and virility, because it, in turn, looks like a willy! And look! The battery pack sort of slots into the handle as well, just like the magazine on a gun! So, you have precisely NO right not to confirm your heterosexuality by buying this product. As a matter of fact, if you do not buy it within a randomly set time limit, WE will have the government officially change YOUR sexual orientation to gay! There is no other way this can be avoided!

DEBT/INSURANCE AD

It's a weekday, it's noon, and you're at home watching Channel 5. If you were a productive member of society, you'd be too busy working right now to be watching repeats of Magnum PI, so we can only assume you are a debt-wracked unemployable loner (or old person) with nothing to do other than while away the uneventful hours of the only life you'll ever have by watching Tom Selleck ponce around Hawaii in amusingly outdated clothing. You fucking derelict!

Anyway, look, we're offering you the chance to be free of your debt/insurance worries by way of this really shittily produced advert with no production values, starring a failed used car dealer who couldn't sell nukes to North Korea. Call this number NOW and be treated with palpable disdain by our telephone operators.

Yes, they're poorly-trained unqualified scum, but even THEY can get a job. Unlike you, you fat fucking failure! They will be happy to help you pay their frankly slave-level salaries by keeping you on hold listening to shitty synthesizer music for minutes at a time, each and every second of it chewing up what precious little coins you have left, as you sit there patiently waiting, hoping, praying that we can help rebuild the life and dreams you so hilariously demolished with your gambling, your drinking and your good old down-to-earth basic stupidity.

Well, we can't do that, we aren't fucking miracle workers, but we're more than happy to take your money away in order to make you feel like there's hope. Which there isn't! Face it, if you actually weren't scared off by the awful production values of the advert, you fucking DESERVE it, don't you.

MOBILE AD

Hello, we are the Benign Phone Company, and we are here to inform you that your mobile phone - whichever model or however recent it may be - has reached obsolescence and is now officially both out of date AND sad - and will self-destruct within minutes.

You risk immediate social ostrasication and exclusion from local nightclubs unless you upgrade to a newer, smaller, shinier model with more exorbitant-price-justifying extraneous features that you don't fucking need. Look, our phone can play shitty Java games and send out pictures and stuff. Can yours do that?

Of course it can't, it's rubbish. Just like you! See, just like your hideously overpriced clothes, your phone is an external indicator of your value as a human being, so if people see you walking around with that shitty World War II field telephone of yours, they will immediately know you are both sad AND worthless. And rightly so.

Anyway, buy the fucking phone. Because if you don't, all your mates will think you are gay, and nobody will fancy you and the sky will fall.

Also, you can now show how individual you are by being like everyone else, and spending large amounts of money for the privilege of downloading Œironic¹ bleepy renditions of the signature themes to 1980s television series, so that next time your mum calls you to ask what you want for dinner, everyone in your immediate vicinity will know what a hip, irreverent, culturally refined being you are - as the distinctive tones of The Fall Guy are piped out cheerfully from your little box of joy.

Either that, or they'll think you're an intensely aggravating prick, and then secretly entertain cathartic fantasies about shoving the sodding phone down your stupid little gullet and tightening the hands-free wire around your neck, you fucking sheep. Jesus, you really DO deserve the brain cancer we're giving you with these things. Twat.

COSMETICS AD

Hello, demographic. We are here to sell you back the self esteem that we've been robbing you of for years with our images of unobtainable physical perfection - and lifestyles you couldn't possibly dream of leading.

Come, buy our vastly overpriced toxic slime, daub it on the relevant body part, and feel the glorious warmth endemic to being a faceless identikit clone!

Remember, you're shit without us, so show us some gratitude. Even though we're the ones responsible for the total lack of self-worth that you're now trying to alleviate by throwing money at us, just to have the privilege of squirting harmful chemicals all over yourself. By the way, we've craftily formulated this stuff so that over the years it makes your skin prematurely pallid and wrinkly. Then we can sell anti-ageing cream to you!

Frankly, it's like we're repeatedly bum-raping you with a molten iron rod and then expecting you to be thankful when we sell you anti-inflamation cream for your horribly swollen ring piece. But hey, what else are you gonna do? NOT FIT IN?

GIRL POWER AD

Girls! Now you're allowed to be independent and empowered and gutsy and butch and empowered and powerful and gutsy (as long as you conform to predetermined gender stereotypes at the same time)

There's never been a better time to show how feminine and gutsy and empowered you think are, by buying our shit merchandise in order to help you look like every other member of the sodding bleach-blonde, tracksuit-wearing, mobile-phone-braying, idiot-boyfriend-having herd.

And if that doesn't float your boat, here: some images of men being stupid and infective! Haha, they are mentally inferior to you. And clumsy, and cannot satisfy you sexually. So show them how much more intelligent and sassy you are by buying our product. You simpleton.

Don't get us wrong or anything, we're GLAD that society pretends you egg-carriers are equal now, as that means you are now just as open to exploitation as your dick-bareing counterparts. AND we can explore a whole new marketing dimension in selling harmful shit to you at obscenely inflated prices in order to make you think you're making some sort of right-on, proactive feminist statement about yourself - while in blissful ignorance that you¹re simply demonstrating what a suggestible slope-browed half wit you are!

FAILING MULTINATIONAL FAST FOOD CHAIN AD

Hello! We've been plugging up you and your children's guts with densely-packed meat products for 30 years, and unfortunately we're now facing financial ruin because you've gone and started thinking about what you eat - and realised that shoveling forty pounds of cow into your gaping mouths every day might consign you to an early, and very wide grave.

You're right of course, we've been indirectly thinning out your ranks (if not your waists) all this time. And now that you've finally cottoned on, we're fucked if we can't come up with a new sales pitch.

So here's a selection of images in which a bunch of thin, impeccably dressed, impossibly beautiful and ethnically coordinated young people derive orgasmic levels of enjoyment - by buying ghastly-looking comestibles from a ludicrously idealistic vision of one of our outlets.

Here¹s a bunch of cool teenagers, Instead of the hate-riddled bovine Kappa-wearing dimwits who really frequent our establishments! And here's a perfectly clean, sterile, food-o-matic - instead of the poorly-managed rat colony staffed by slave-wage Orcs who are both willing and able to contaminate your food with NY NUMBER of their own byproducts - just to bring a fleeting moment of hate fueled pleasure into their misery-soaked lives.

Frankly, we deserve to crash and burn like the soulless evil scumfucks we are, don't we? IRONIC AD

Hello, we're clued up and funny and clever. So instead of trying to sell our product to you by saying it's great, we're making fun of it, in order to make it appear that we have a sense of humour or even a soul!

Of course, we don't REALLY have either of these things. We've worked in marketing for 20 years, and our humanity has long since been replaced by an instinctual obligation to stuff our collective gaping maw with as much of your paltry wage as possible.

Anyway, here's our product in an amusing/unusual situation. Isn't it hilarious? Hahahaha. Oh, hohohohoho. Hoho. Hah. Wah. Waaah. AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGH. For Christ's sake, I want my humanity back. Get me the fuck out of marketing. What the fuck have I done with my life? I can't even remember the last time I looked at a bed of roses or a wisp of cloud or a giggling baby and thought about it in terms OTHER than how I'd stamp it with an ugly logo and sell it to you in order to add a few more zeros to my annual income.

Yes, I am rich. Yes, I have a big house, a Ferrari, a wife half my age and a mistress half HER age, but I am no longer capable of relating to anything or anyone in human terms. I am vacant. Utterly empty. I could have been an artist, or an explorer, or a great thinker, but instead I sold my soul to the church of Capitalism, and for my efforts I have been stripped of all that makes me a person. Forgive me, mother... (Sound of muffled sobbing followed by single gunshot and dull thud of body hitting floor)

YOGURT AD

Buy yogurt. Cunt.

And what did we learn from that? Nothing. And yet everything. Funny though, wasn¹t it.