Recently in Bad Marketing Category

Major non-props to CBS and The CW, who have both apparently pulled their feeds from RedLasso. This means all my clips of Gossip Girl and The Late Show with David Letterman have been yanked. I discovered this just now when I attempted to create a clip of last night's Letterman, which featured Mary-Kate Olsen bashing Spencer Pratt (and Dave in turn calling him a "worm.") Alas, because of this CBS-RedLasso impasse, I find my hands tied. Sure, I know it's probably available on YouTube, but since I'm stickin' it to the man these days, I'm gonna refrain from seeking alternative video sources and let CBS reel from the ANTI-BUZZ. Furthermore, I'm going to post a clip from a rival entertainment source as further punishment.

So... Ha!

I have been a loyal member of 24 Hour Fitness for years and years, going all the way back to the heady days of 2002 when I joined the gym's flagship facility in Hollywood just days after opening. I've never really had a problem with the place (unlike with the dreadful con-artists at Bally's Total Fitness), and over time, as more and more people joined up and quality began to lag here and there, I stayed true to my membership. Sure, the mandatory towel rule was rarely enforced, and sure, the lines at the cardio machines were verging on ridiculous, and sure, finding free weights had become akin to a minor scavenger hunt, but I kind of let that all slide. I was happy enough, and the constant stream of reality stars in the gym (not to mention the occasional A-lister -- a.k.a. Justin Timberlake twice!) kept my gluttony for fame satisfied. Things weren't perfect, but it's such a pain to change gyms, and I wasn't going to leave 24 Hour Fitness unless I felt like I really had to.

And then this week happened.

When I was in Europe a few weeks ago, there was one commercial that played over and over and over again on CNN International, and thankfully, I just found it on YouTube. It's a bombastic spot intended to lure investors to the emirate of Ajman, but instead, it just kind of plays out like light cult indoctrination, especially when the enthusiastic narrator announces, "The power of belief paves the way for achievement!" All that's missing are some John Woo doves. Nevertheless, the commercial in its entirety is above, and if you're fascinated by life in the UAE, check out my friend's blog here.

Back in Cycle 9 of America's Next Top Model, we watched the girls stumble and slur their way through one of the most ill-conceived product titles of all time: the Wetslicks Fruit Spritzer. To the uninitiated (ie. me), it sounded like the models were merely saying "westshlicksfritzsprtizer," especially when queen marble-mouth Jaslene got in on the action. Now CoverGirl is back with yet another tongue twister of a product name, and sure enough, Fatima, Whitney, and Anya all managed to completely botch it, reducing the brand to a mishmash of syllables that sounded not unlike "blashtlashtlashblahsshsblashssplash." I don't blame the girls. I blame whoever came up with the stupid tagline.

Nevertheless, I'm not even going to say what this product is called because trying to guess the words is half the fun.

From left to right: Funny, AWFUL, strange.

After that thrilling Super Bowl, it feels almost silly discussing the accompanying ads —  the combined entertainment value of which paled dramatically next to the big game. However, it's hard to for me to go three seconds without voicing my opinion on one thing or another, especially when so much hype is involved; so here goes with my roundup of this year's commercials.

Overall, it wasn't a great night for commercials. Bugs and rodents and critters in general seemed to dominate the airwaves, which wasn't always a good thing. You'd think marketing execs would know better, but then again, these are the same people who bring us a talking baby year after awful year. Why? WHY? Nevertheless, very few spots were noteworthy this year, and there didn't seem to be any instant classics in the bunch, but there were some gems that deserve accolades. My reviews of nearly all the Super Bowl ads after the jump.

Is there any better way to spend twenty minutes than by revisiting all the sexist, racist, and simply ill-conceived ad campaigns of yesteryear? I think not. Unfortunately, I'm too lazy to look up every last cringe-worthy ad on YouTube, but the good people at Cracked have aggregated five worthy selections, each one worse than the next.

The Jell-o ad is particularly awful as it happily utilizes seemingly as many Asian stereotypes as possible in under sixty seconds, but then again, there's no denying the simmering sexism that Folgers serves up to one unlucky housewife. Then there are the toy guns, the asbestos flooring, and the cigarettes —  the last of which are hawked by our old friend, Fred and Barney. The creators of these spots are certainly Mad Men indeed...

• 5 Retro Commercials Companies Would Like You To Forget [Cracked]

Do the curtains match the carpet? It's an essential question not just for monochromatic interior designers, but for curious men (and women) who seek to know if a lady's hair color is uniformly aligned with the hues in the nether regions of her body. As we all know, not all blondes are natural, and nothing spills the beans more than a brown tuft of fuzzy revelation in the general pelvic area. Thankfully, for those seeking congruity in the Northern and Southern hemispheres, there's a relatively new product on the market that addresses this need. It's a gentle hair dying kit simply called BETTY.

Thankfully, Betty has a website, and since I'm dedicated to helping my readers choose only the best products for themselves, I urge you to join me as I explore this enchanting corner of the Internets...

To those unfamiliar with the latest offerings on Los Angeles's Lazy Susan of fads, one particular sensation that has swept the city by storm has been the Frozen Yogurt craze, helpfully nurtured by Pinkberry and its many imitators. Basically, people have rediscovered FroYo, but this time around, they've taken out the flavoring, added fresh toppings, and convinced themselves that they're now eating health food. I'm not necessarily opposed to the whole movement, but I can't abide by any frozen yogurt shop (or frozen dairy shop in general) that doesn't offer a chocolate option for those of us less health inclined (Pinkberry, it should be noted, has a scant selection consisting of only Plain and Green Tea. Oh, and their signature flavor: AWFUL).

Well, over the past year, dozens of Pinkberry knockoffs have sprouted up across the city, and now, it seems the bubble is at last bursting. One of the first casualties is none other than the miserable establishment, Yogurtpia, which happens to be one of the places I've actually been to. According to Eater LA, the storefront is covered with ominous, brown paper, hopefully signaling the end to this embarrassment of an enterprise. Yes, it's a joyous time for me, as Yogurtpia's unceremonious death fills me with great satisfaction. But why? Why am I so thrilled that a generic yogurt shop has disappeared into the night, never to be heard from again?

In my continued attempt to be a minor consumer advocate, I have to call into question Covergirl and their bafflingly titled line of lip glosses, "Wet Slicks Fruit Spritzers," a name that is neither easy, breezy, nor particularly beautiful.  When I first heard of the brand, I was watching America's Next Top Model as the lovely but dictionally-challenged Jaslene (she of the "I speak like a deaf person talking" voice) attempted to say the brand during one of her "My Life As A Covergirl" fiascos.  I swear, I rewound my Tivo over twenty times, and I still had no idea what she was saying. Weshsprishfrishspritzer?  The only word I could really hear was "Spritzer," but that made no sense because who uses the word "SPRITZER" in youth culture?  Nevertheless, I chalked it all up to Jaslene's strange but lovable method of slurring consonants and vowels into a fine pastiche of phonetics and moved on.

I've come to realize that when it comes to deciphering deodorant odors, I'm at a total loss.  Time and time again, I waltz into the pharmacy and find myself staring at the shelves of deodorants, wondering what in the world I'm about to purchase.  Yes, yes, I could be a heathen and sniff all the different brands, but in general, I'm not a huge fan of opening products I'm not buying.  Nor am I terribly enthused over the idea that the stick I rub in my armpit may have been previously grazed by an unknown quantity of curious noses.  What I'm trying to get at is that deodorant descriptors are frustratingly cryptic, and I'm having a difficult time envisioning just exactly what olfactory treat my nose is in for when it takes a whiff of "Arctic Chill" or "Fresh Blast." Last time I checked, concepts didn't have aromas.  And if they did, I'm not so sure I'd want them emanating from my armpits.  Who says I want my underarms to smell like a blast, let alone a "fresh blast?"  If anything, that kind of sounds like a fart.  No, I want my deodorants to follow the lead of my air-fresheners:  give me a concrete idea of what I'll be smelling like to the general public.  Powder?  Lilacs?  Neutral odors?  It's really very simple.