One of the great "advantages" of my job is the fact I get paid to watch infomercials at 3 a.m.

Right now, we're on CCN, whose ineptness at selling you pointy, deadly implements borders on farcical. While HSN has the zoom-in voice-over down, CCN spends large passages zoomed out from the product piled on a table while the host rambles in concentrated Shatner-esque bursts just off-stage, audibly digging around in a cardboard box. He regularly forgets the prices to his own items, then announces blithely, "Why, I've never actually seen this before!"

Yesterday morning was Final Events of Biblical Prophecy, whose high school play theatrics, when combined with the budget of Bibleman, produce such important lessons as, "Rapture will give you superpowers and let you breathe in space!" and "Heaven is seeing everything through a drunken haze."
As we all know, advertising aimed at women kind of fails spectacularly pretty regularly. But I think we've hit a new low (or high) with the Fling, which is described as,
"Wrapped in a shiny pink and sliver package, this delicate "chocolate finger" is intended for women. The word "finger" is an industry term for a long, slim confection, Mars spokesman Ryan Bowling says, but with ads that invite you to "Pleasure yourself" in pink lettering, consumers might come to other conclusions."
And nothing says classy like an ad which implies dressing-room sex!









Possibly the best description of the entire endeavor? "The language of it has so much sexual innuendo, you could pack it into a trashy novel."

WAIT WAIT WAIT! BUT THERE'S MORE! The New Zealand advertising campaign lets users create your own custom man to "have a harmless fling" with, as well as allowing women to "send out flirty e-mails."
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A Vagina You Can't Take Home to Mother

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