… and, for some things, there are no words. (Click pictures to view original posts.)
Oh sure, sex sells, but in 2009, Madison Avenue caught a serious case of Teh Qte. Below, we take another look at the cutest ads we featured in the past year.
“Yep, that’s us. If one of the reindeer sprains a fetlock and can’t fly, that’s when we move in. Doesn’t happen often, though; last time I went up was in ’73, and Ralph here doubles for Blitzen at shopping center openings. That’s about it.”
Who knew Santa was so prepared, Paige?
Yoohoo, anyone home? I brought you a fruitcake I made last year!
Hellooooo…? It’s Carl and Agnes! We have non-alcoholic eggnog, Brussel sprouts, and a hankering to sing carols!
Hey, uh, anyone home? Last night I accidentally ran over a grandma. Can I hide out at your place for a few days?
Stella, here! I brought over stuff for scrapbooking! Wow, your peephole is really dirty!
Anyone there? Maude just left me. For a Clydesdale. He pulls a one horse open sleigh or something. Can I come in and talk about it for a few hours?
Wait, that’s not a reverse peephole, right Julie C.?
Karl Lagerpelt debuted his new spring collection this week to mixed reviews. Not many will want to sport the Pippi Longstalking-like waves many of his models donned while prancing down the Carpathian-walk. However, come April, you better believe that turnip decorative barrettes will be all the rage.
Your goat’s too sexy for a tan, too sexy for a tan, so sexy he looks like flan, Liliana F.
“Hey, Stacy, I noticed you missed Civics class again; if you want, I could help you study for the mid-term because Mr. Dorfman says it’s one-third of your grade and it really won’t be any trouble because I took really good notes and it’s OK if you come over tonight even though it’s D&D night and my mom can make s’mores…” (etc.)
… and because sender-inner Marissa W. asked so nicely… TOOF-HANCE!
OMG, you did NOT just do that. Embarrrrasssing! [Singsong]
Another stellar entry over at the National Geographic Photo Contest. This one is by Dana Styber!
Winnie the Pig had a date. A hot date. It was his first in weeks, and since he wasn’t about to go and blow it, he had to make sure everything was just right. So obviously, he brought in reinforcements:
Listen, if it was your intention to bathe in Drakkar Noir and possibly kill your date with cheesiness, then you exceeded expectations. I mean, I think my nose may have stopped twitching.
Here’s the thing: It looks like Arthur Fonzarelli took a greased comb to your hair, and yet it doesn’t occur to you to pluck a nose hair? It’s surprising considering they’re practically hindering your eyesight.
Here’s to the partnership, Maria L.