Nov 19
Now here’s a story that will warm your cockles.  Iver’s Seafood Restaurant in Seattle was dismayed at its sinking sales, concerned that the long established local love affair with their fruit de mer was on the rocks.  Their solution?  A good ol’ fashioned fishy tale to get people talking.  At dead of night, 1950s billboards were placed under the Puget Sound and left there a couple of months to befriend the barnacles. The restaurant owners then told the local media that whilst reviewing their archives, a discovery had been made - their founder had put the billboards there five decades ago, because he believed people would one day travel beneath the Sound in submarines.  He apparently wanted to be ready to remind the first, pioneering submerged seafarers that they sold the best salmon in town.  Of course, the billboards were raised from the depths with much fanfare.  They even hooked in a local historian to verify the authenticity of the signs.  In a further stroke of genius they then ran a local advertising campaign saying that in honour of the discovery, they were rolling back chowder pricing to the 1950s menu rates.  The initiative drove mass media coverage and the footage went viral across the interweb.  Most importantly; in the month the campaign broke, clam chowder sales jumped from 19,000 cups to 83,000 cups.  There’s no question; this was a winner.. hook, line & sinker.  Read more in the sublimely named Denver Egotist.

Now here’s a story that will warm your cockles. Iver’s Seafood Restaurant in Seattle was dismayed at its sinking sales, concerned that the long established local love affair with their fruit de mer was on the rocks. Their solution? A good ol’ fashioned fishy tale to get people talking. At dead of night, 1950s billboards were placed under the Puget Sound and left there a couple of months to befriend the barnacles. The restaurant owners then told the local media that whilst reviewing their archives, a discovery had been made - their founder had put the billboards there five decades ago, because he believed people would one day travel beneath the Sound in submarines. He apparently wanted to be ready to remind the first, pioneering submerged seafarers that they sold the best salmon in town. Of course, the billboards were raised from the depths with much fanfare. They even hooked in a local historian to verify the authenticity of the signs. In a further stroke of genius they then ran a local advertising campaign saying that in honour of the discovery, they were rolling back chowder pricing to the 1950s menu rates. The initiative drove mass media coverage and the footage went viral across the interweb. Most importantly; in the month the campaign broke, clam chowder sales jumped from 19,000 cups to 83,000 cups. There’s no question; this was a winner.. hook, line & sinker. Read more in the sublimely named Denver Egotist.

 
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Nov 17
Never sit next to me at the cinema.  Whilst you won’t hear me noisily chowing down on a mountain of E numbers or snoring thunderously, I do have a habit far more irritating.  For some unfathomable reason I feel obliged to keep track of every brand reference, both visual and spoken, and then point them out to my movie going companion of choice (and occasionally to total strangers when my movie going companion of choice inexplicably decides to switch seats).  From the moment I spotted Speak‘n’Spell and Reece’s Pieces in ET, I was hooked.  But these days I don’t stop at simply giving a verbal nod to the ten foot can of celluloid coke immortalized in front of me, I’ll often feel compelled to dig you in the ribs and make an entirely uneducated estimate on the price tag for such exposure.  Then if I’m on a roll (and you foolishly encourage a bit of marketing wankery) I’ll drag you into a whispered debate about the possible return on investment.  So, like many others, I’m eagerly awaiting the release of the film adaptation of The Road, a post apocalyptic drama based on the novel of the same title, which scored itself a well earned Pulitzer prize.  However my fervent enthusiasm is motivated by the cynics who have panned the director and producer for some overt and shameless inclusions… Vitaminwater, Spam and Cheetos all get their 15 seconds of fame in this solemn, startling epic.  Post apocalyptic product placement at it’s finest, no doubt.  Read more here.

Never sit next to me at the cinema.  Whilst you won’t hear me noisily chowing down on a mountain of E numbers or snoring thunderously, I do have a habit far more irritating.  For some unfathomable reason I feel obliged to keep track of every brand reference, both visual and spoken, and then point them out to my movie going companion of choice (and occasionally to total strangers when my movie going companion of choice inexplicably decides to switch seats).  From the moment I spotted Speak‘n’Spell and Reece’s Pieces in ET, I was hooked.  But these days I don’t stop at simply giving a verbal nod to the ten foot can of celluloid coke immortalized in front of me, I’ll often feel compelled to dig you in the ribs and make an entirely uneducated estimate on the price tag for such exposure.  Then if I’m on a roll (and you foolishly encourage a bit of marketing wankery) I’ll drag you into a whispered debate about the possible return on investment.  So, like many others, I’m eagerly awaiting the release of the film adaptation of The Road, a post apocalyptic drama based on the novel of the same title, which scored itself a well earned Pulitzer prize.  However my fervent enthusiasm is motivated by the cynics who have panned the director and producer for some overt and shameless inclusions… Vitaminwater, Spam and Cheetos all get their 15 seconds of fame in this solemn, startling epic.  Post apocalyptic product placement at it’s finest, no doubt.  Read more here.

 
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Nov 16
Disappointing that the Daily Mail forced notorious blogger Belle De Jour to reveal her identity today.  When she’s not entertaining millions with her riveting blog that recounts stories of her time as a top-draw London call girl with a triple figure price tag, it turns out that Dr Brooke Magnanti is a specialist in developmental neurotoxicology and cancer epidemiology at the Bristol Initiative for Research of Child Health.  You can bet the Daily Mail morons were planning a front cover splash to lobby for her immediate sacking.  Highly satisfying that she screwed them with fitting flair and gave her story to the Sunday Times.  I sincerely hope she keeps her job.

Disappointing that the Daily Mail forced notorious blogger Belle De Jour to reveal her identity today.  When she’s not entertaining millions with her riveting blog that recounts stories of her time as a top-draw London call girl with a triple figure price tag, it turns out that Dr Brooke Magnanti is a specialist in developmental neurotoxicology and cancer epidemiology at the Bristol Initiative for Research of Child Health.  You can bet the Daily Mail morons were planning a front cover splash to lobby for her immediate sacking.  Highly satisfying that she screwed them with fitting flair and gave her story to the Sunday Times.  I sincerely hope she keeps her job.

 
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Nov 12


Meet Lauren Johnson. A preppy, wholesome, home-baked apple pie and soda stream pre-teen American. Whilst cute as a Hershey bar, she’s just like a billion others. Except for the fact that this little lady has a rather unfortunate malady. She can’t stop sneezing. Up to 20 times a minute, which equates to about 12,000 times a day. Nobody nose why. We shouldn’t mock the afflicted.. I know.. it’s just snot funny right? But shit, sneeze number four in this clip had me on the floor. Go on, count ‘em.

I hope I smell the faint aroma of a publicity stunt… the next installment of Balloon Boy perhaps…

 
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Nov 10


Celebrities have never been backwards when it comes to monitizing their individual brands.  But one trend that stinks more than most is the vexatious personalised fragrance phenomenon, which just refuses to go away.  Do I really want eau de Jessica Simpson sprayed in my face as I mooch through David Jones in search of the food hall?  I’ll pass thanks.  No matter who your idol, there’s a good chance they’ve manufactured their own unique stench and bottled it for your whiffing pleasure.  It’s not just the Kylies and the Beyonces and the Aguileras who’ve cashed in either.  Should you so be inclined, you can spritz yourself in a fine mist of Enrique Inglesias, Cliff Richard or even Luciano Pavarotti.. though smelling of an obese, bearded, oh and not to mention dead lothario feels a little.. well odorous.  Around 500 new fragrances are launched every year and, in the last 12 months alone, consumers with perfunctory olfactory scores shelled out for over 3 million bottles of the celeb varieties.  This suggests there are a lot of people with more money than sense… and I guarantee you can still smell them in the elevator a good 20 minutes after they’ve knocked off for the day.  Depressingly, the 50 Cent cologne is already flying off the shelves stateside.

 
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Nov 8



Where I come from, an afternoon at the horse races is generally a sedate affair, spent in the company of the moneyed gentry who unload Fortnum & Mason picnic hampers from their Chelsea tractors with familiar ease; chinless wonders for whom fashion on the fields invariably means the compulsory uniform of tweed, wax jacket and wellington boots.  However, in my adoptive homeland, things are a little different.  Last Tuesday was the Melbourne Cup; it’s billed as the race that stops the nation, a very accurate descriptor.  Here are a few snaps of the natives/British backpackers enjoying it.  The race was won by a nag called Shocking.  Quite fitting.

 
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Nov 5


On this day 29 years ago, I was probably necking an Um Bongo and tucking into a packet of contraband Skips when I first saw this ad for LEGO.  In fact, if I’d been engrossed in Wacaday, it could well have prompted my cardinal marmalade dropping moment.  From that very second, Sindy was dead to me - it was all about interlocking plastic bricks in primary pantones.

The inspired choice of Tommy Cooper as narrator ensured it not only engaged little jam eaters like me, but also British fathers everywhere who fancied themselves as masterly TC impersonators.  ‘I said a kipper not a slipper’ became the dad joke de jour in 1980.  Take a minute to look back.  Just like that.

 
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Nov 4



It’s the morning after the night before. So today, with no apology, I resort to the lowest common denominator in entertaining online content; toilet humour. I’ve stumbled across 35 unique urinals - some radical, many baffling (see the portable urinal golf club for fuck’s sake) and a few that are piss poor. You might not be wetting yourself, but you have to admire the mind boggling ingenuity of people with too much time on their hands. Check out the full range at Trend Hunter.

 
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Nov 3


Outstanding advice from a Kiwi cop at three in the morning. ALWAYS blow on the pie.  An apt reminder on Melbourne Cup day, when many of us will consider ingesting something thermo nuclear, in a vein attempt to mop up alcohol excesses on a school night.

 
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Oct 30



Want to bum a free ride off a werewolf?  Then get your teeth into this.  Tomorrow the Beans are launching ‘An American Werewolf in Yaris’ for our friends at Toyota.  Fan Wolfy on facebook and follow him on Twitter.  If you see him out on the streets of Sydney, flag him down and hitch a ride.. if you dare…

 
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