Uncomplicate, unhassle, unshoot me in the freakin’ head
If you’re from Dullsville you would have encountered SGIO’s horrifying “un-” campaign. Brace your soul:
Four reasons why the guy who did the voice-over for this ad is a FUCKING LIAR:
- He wouldn’t touch prawns from the Swan River with YOUR mouth;
- He hasn’t got a clue what “Rotto” or “the Doctor” are;
- His motivation for that knowing grunt at 0:15 was the thought “I can’t believe they’re paying me for this garbage”; and
- He knows that the prefix “un” is meaningless as a noun.
The fake nostalgia for a supposedly less complicated (apologies, UNcomplicated) past pushed in this ad (and, to a lesser extent, the other “un-“ ads) is such a fucking lie. For chissakes, back when you could fish kilos of delicious prawns out of the Swan, there was no cure for polio. But I guess the fact that this ad is a lie is just duh. It’s an ad for insurance.
But it’s such a bad lie and SUCH a bad ad. Really, who were the soulless freaks in the focus group that ate this shit up? Come on, fellow human beings. The jerk in this ad didn’t get his yacht, his mooring at Rotto and his ripped physique by reminiscing about the good ol’ days and “unworrying”. And it’s been proven by science that you can’t “unworry” when you think about whether to spend a chunk of your income on the complicated theoretical benefits of insurance.
The only good thing about this ad is the gorgeous Rotto scenery. Oh, and when Billy Backflip gets (un)stabbed in the balls with a giant (un)phallus: