awesomely bad fiction, that’s just so terrible that it’s prizewinningly good. has been a feature on kitschbitch before. now let’s go another step further, and venture into the realm of cringeworthy, stunningly dire, erotic fiction – a world where the breasts are pendulous, the members are turgid, and the, er, oesophaguses are highly sexual. I kid ye not. seriously. oh, it really does get so much worse. we’re talking “g-string that passed through the crevice of her bottom like a cruise-liner along the equator” levels of bad. go check out nerve’s bad erotica contest. just don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Archives - May 2003
it’s just plain wrong, wrong I tell you
I saw it a couple of days ago and thought my eyes were deceiving me. then I saw another one and realised what seemed too hideous to even contemplate was in fact true. they’ve come up with vanilla ice-cream flavoured monster munch. now, some international visitors to kitschbitch towers may not be familiar with the great british snack that is the packet of monster munch, and I fear I may not do it justice. imagine a cross between sawdust and polystyrene. now imagine it made into the shape of a monster’s footprint. yes, I know it’s a stretch, but work with me. then imagine them in flaming hot or roast beef flavours, or in the almighty deity of monster munch flavours, pickled onion. all three will render your breath so incredibly minging that anyone who comes within a ten mile radius of you after scoffing a packet of them will be knocked out instantly. I realise that to the uninitiated these in themselves might seem wholly unbelievable as far as snack flavours and varieties are concerned, but really, they’re quite legendary and a british institution. which pretty much sums up the state of the nation. but I digress. the very suggestion of a sweet and confectionary-based flavouring such as vanilla ice-cream for a tangy corn snack that’s meant to make you stink and regret indulging in monster munch ever again is just so very very wrong. it’s a travesty against all that is good and pure in the world of savoury snacks. here endeth today’s rant.
a watershed in the world of advertising
there’s a new advert for a new kind of tampon on uk telly at the moment that’s breaking new ground. the ad is for lillets new weird tampons in little gel packets, which I’ll admit is a pretty bizarre entity in itself. but what’s trailblazing about the advert, is that it’s one of the first tampon ads to actually talk about the tampon as a tampon! no rollerblading girls in skimpy lycra leaping through fountains or running with dogs along the beach – the obvious way to sell feminine hygiene products, according to the nice folks at tampax. no funny little ooh-doesn’t-this-teeny-little-tampon-wrapped-up look a bit like a sweet jokes, except that who’s ever seen a tampon-shaped-bonbon I have no idea. not even a hint of bright blue water, which, might I add, was extraordinarily misleading and meant the uninitiated were in for nasty shocks when their time came and it funnily enoiugh wasn’t like it looked on the telly. too much for you at the back? I do apologise – I’ll press on. nope, this is set as some retro tv show with a middle-aged-bloke complete with cardiagan and mad eyebrows (who looks scarily like my friend’s dad, so am going to instantly think TAMPONS whenever I see him now. bastards) and 60s-housewife type woman showing off the tampon sans rollerblades, cute faux-pas or blue liquid – just showing off the tampons and the freaky new gel pouches they come in (aside – recipe for disaster if you ask me). now, ok, we haven’t yet broken all boundaries of tampon-ad-propriety: they then go and shove the tampon inside a test-tube to demonstrate its, er, ‘snug fit’. cos that’s what everyone does with a tampon – goes and rounds up a test-tube to dunk it in, of course. but I’ll let that one slide, cos frankly, I’d rather certain boundaries were kept thank you very much. but – and do correct me if I’m wrong – what a milestone in the history of sanitary-gubbins advertising, when the ad actually references the product it’s selling. wonders will never cease!
yesterday (actually, it was the day before, but I’m slack and didn’t finish this till now) I watched the wonder that is yellow submarine with my dad. admittedly, I don’t think I watched it in the correct state of mind to appreciate it in the manner in which it was meant to be appreciated. by which I mean I wasn’t off my cake high in the sky with diamonds, for want of a better phrase. (note to self: this will make much better viewing after making brownies than disney’s aladdin, which, whilst amusing, lead to some of the most ear-splitting caned singing you’ve ever heard. and when caned, it’s better to be singing beatles songs than disney monstrosities). but damn, even without extra chemical stimulation, it’s quite the trip. and so far ahead of its time pre-the music video era, it’s just phenomenal. and, of course, includes some utterly fine fine music. but I still maintain that the true levels of greatness of the film can be attained only when munted. I’ll report back to you on that one – watch this space…