Blogging the Commercial I Just Watched: London Drugs

How fortunate to have two kinds of London Drugs commercials to discuss today. We’ve got the batch where they’ve got London Drugs handbaskets filling in for an item that can easily be acquired by visiting an London Drugs store. So, for example, there’s the one where the Napoleon Dynamite-looking kid’s mom enters his room to deliver some laundry (without knocking! MO-OM!), discovers him working out with a couple of those baskets instead of dumbbells, and looks a little creeped-out as she backs out again*. Or, there’s also the one I saw, like, 30 times tonight, where one lady leans over a little to peer at one of said baskets and remarks that the “boy” in the “photo” in the “frame” looks just like his “father” (completely effin’ intolerable, this one).

The other kind features two guys, one wearing a hat, the other strumming a guitar, singing a list of things that are on special at London Drugs. But, not one of those things is ever anything that could be deployed in some fashion that would prevent London Drugs from making any commercials at all (in the case where they can’t stop themselves from engaging in such complete dumbassery), or anything with which to kill onesself as a last, last resort (even if it’s completely not fair to have to kill your own self because of something London Drugs did). Get stuffed, London Drugs.

(Updated 7 hours later)

P.S.  Oh, London Drugs, I can’t stay mad at you. But hey,  next time you want to shell out a lot of money for television ads that aren’t so great, please, call me first.

*Oh for fuck’s sake, the kid could be in there, as you arrive without knocking, molesting a neighbourhood cat or building a fertilizer bomb or playing air saxophone along with Kenny G! COUNT YOUR FUCKING BLESSINGS THAT HE’S WORKING OUT!!!

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