BT. One of Britain’s best known brands. Their adverts have history too. Like a footballer referring to themselves in the third person, they have a very over inflated opinion of themselves. When their latest string of adverts hit our screens, it was obvious they were going for the Nescafe “that-bloke-who-went-on-to-do-Buffy-and-Little-Britain-and-his-middle-class-affair-with-that-bit-of-posh-totty-from-upstairs” kind of storyline. Except this time it’s all ‘modern’ with a young man entering into a single mother family. We saw the rather pathetic attempts at a narrative which exposed his fathering-skills deficiency, and then their split and eventual reconciliation. We also saw that he likes to chat to his Mum. What a man. All the while their tumultuous lives have been intertwined with the life-saving services and technologies on offer from BT. Imagine how much of shit father he’d be if he didn’t have on-demand TV to plonk the kids in front of while he jacked off to porn on his laptop in the bog.

Ordinarily, these adverts-cum-soap operas are harmless enough. But every so often one of the adverts (or episodes) is so outrageous that it throws a massive spanner of  temerity into what was an otherwise inoffensive fluid storyline. The BT family have had this moment when they started to air this.  Their attempts at shoe-horning in their latest advertising guff into the family continuing narrative is about as effective as chocolate butt-plug. They’re looking for a house together. Fine, we can believe that. There’s an estate agent showing him around a house. Fine, we can all believe that. The estate agent is complete and utter cunt. Fine, we can all believe that. But then, she’s on the phone telling him, “Get him to show you Elgin Avenue”. Instead of the estate agent saying something along the lines of (in the smuggest cunt voice he could muster) “oh ok mate, I’ll get back in my Mini Cooper S, drive like a demented fuckwit back to the office, grab the details and mosey you over to the lovely 2 bedroom semi in Elgin fuckin’ Avenue!”; he whips out a laptop, yes a FUCKING LAPTOP, and proceeds to try and find out the details of Elgin Avenue online. Since when did estate agents start carrying around laptops!!? Please correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve been in and out of houses with estate agents more often than a crack whore on Foxton’s speed dial and I’ve never once seen one of these low-life degenerate douches carry a laptop. Then, THEN, the estate agent gets all flustered because “half the world’s online”! Since when does the internet slow down at 6pm!? It’s a fucking joke. And why is the laptop even plugged into the internet (wirelessly or otherwise) in someone else’s house!? The whole situation is completely absurd and would NEVER HAPPEN.

I suspect that the meeting of BT’s advertising agency when they came up with this went something like this:

Ad Man 1 (let’s call him Christopher Unwin Nathan Trott): “Ok, yah, yah, Ok, yah. Let’s look at the BT book now yah? Ok. They’ve given us £40,000 to do the next advert. They want us to carry on the story of that brain-damaged troglodyte and that lesbian”.

Ad Man 2: (let’s call him Lucipher): “Yah yah, but what are they trying to flog this time?”

AM1: “Some shit about their internet working during peak time”

AM2: “So we need the patsy – someone else, who isn’t using BT, their internet slowing down right? While theirs is going ok, right?”

AM1: “Like every other advert ever seen, yah, that’s right”

AM2: “How about, I dunno, an estate agent? Showing them their first home? He can have a laptop and it can go slow, while’s she’s on the phone with quick internet”

AM1: “Yeah but estate agents don’t carry laptops, let alone use it in someone else’s house?”

AM2: “Who cares? This way, we can finish this meeting, and spend the rest of the budget on chang and beating up hookers”.

AM1: “Nice, nice”.