Brainwashed by Guinness Ads
So as I’m sure we are all aware, sporting aficionados or otherwise, the Six Nations is back on. Brill. Dad always used to say that he was just relieved that the shite that is January was now over and the rugby was the signifier of this, it is the announcement that Jan was done.
I promise this will be about ads and SCA and that soon.
Right about now actually.
So the Six Nations has had Guinness as a sponsor addy partner for ages. The players had their socks to look like pints of Guinness with them being mainly black and just the tops white. Lovely stuff. The only problem being I don’t really like Guinness, too heavy, too much like a meal, too dark, not for me, I like a premium larger beer, pint of slosh, pint of pish.
Anyway, every time we went to go see a game everyone else would order a pint of Guinness cause that was the done thing. Split the harp and all the jazz, the dome, the shtick, sláinte. Textbook. And then me, the pathetic twat I am having to order I pint of larger beer cause I don’t like Guinness, not a fan…blah blah blah.
AND THEN, when it was other people’s rounds it was just an excuse to buy the nastiest cheapest beer they could find *cough* Will *cough*
As I was saying, the Six Nations is edging closer and closer, and I still haven’t bought a pint of the black stuff. What if it was absolutely foul? What if I was violently sick everywhere? What if it was a waste a fiver? Dread to think. So the moment comes, I go up to the bar order a pint of Guinness, it’s too late now, I can’t turn back, I’m too English to stop the wheels of hospitality that are already in motion! They start to pour, then leave it after three quarters…good things come to those who wait and all that…they continue to pour and leave a pretty little clover on top.
I sit down, take a big ol’ gulp, try and split the harp (it’s more than you think), nail it, cause I spend too much time in the pub…and…well…I don’t know what all the fuss was about.
What a shit SCAB…
Ben works himself up over a drink that everyone likes and likes it.
But there is a moral to the story! Surely. There must be. Right?
Ads 👏 Fucking 👏 Work 👏
I didn’t like Guinness, couldn’t really care less to be honest. But the GUINNESS Six Nations is back on. So that’s what you do. You watch rugby and drink Guinness, even if you don’t like it, you learn to, cause you have to.
All their ads are so sick anyway, it’d be rude not to. Constantly squirrelling away anything that is mainly black with a white top on the off chance you can find a sick topical…like this one.