I know there are quite a few of you. I love you guys and everything, but I’m under the impression that you should really think I’m lame. I mean, seriously, how does it make you feel that you’ve been tricked into thinking a high school teacher is rad? Or do you watch me for the same sick pity that makes Hoarders and Intervention hit shows?
It all started with a giant Octopus, a color elevated mood that wets any Portlander’s
panties whistle,* and the best era of clothing (if you ignore the health risks of whale bone corsets.) Just watching this ad within 50 miles of the greater Portland area makes me want to get a sprawling Kraken chest piece.
I’m not sure which order the rest of these premiered, so I’m going to just put them all out there.
In the Hurricane ad a group of strapping, young Irish bucks comprised of everything I find attractive in a man sit around downplaying what badasses they are. There is no flaw in this advertisement, besides the fact that I am not currently sitting in this bar:
The Fire ad is simply a work of beauty. There’s not much else to say, besides great job Jameson. I will buy your whiskey if I can be part of a fraction of this badassery:
I believe the Hawk of Achill ad is the lastest in the great Jameson campaign to make the world a little more awesome. In this latest feast for your eyes, Jameson takes on a monsterous bird whose diet apparently consists on whiskey and supple young women:
I don’t know what plans you’re drawing up, Jameson, but I can’t wait to see what you come up with next. Never fire your advertising team. Infact, those better be the best paid employees of a whiskey company. They are artists.
*Media literate inspired self censorship.