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Creative Strategy Partners

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No podcast, no party. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but please don’t go out purging this evening as a result. It will be back soon. Promise! This week’s coolsh*t is bringing you redefined perceptions, the reptilian messiah, more beef than a cow, and the Home Office’s next watchful eye.

iPiphany.

‘Coming out tonight?’ ‘No. I’ve just spent $3500 to read my emails in 3D.’ If you purchased a new state-of-the-art TV, surround sound system, powerful computer, high-end camera and more, you still would not have come close to…the starting price. Apple Vision Pro has arrived. The VR/AR “spatial computing” device that will make you question your own eyesight and the very fabric of reality itself. It’s so immersive that you could live your whole life (if you have 2 hours left to live) in Apple VR, as the Vision Pro is also a 3D camera that allows you to relive the memories that you missed seeing in real life because you were too busy being a cyborg. The first Apple product that you look through, not at. You get a document up on that baby and you are seriously looking at that document.

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The McComeback.

Guess who’s back? Back again. Grimace’s back. Tell a friend. If there’s one thing we love at coolsh*t, it’s Maccies. The OG is back. And by OG, I mean Old Gezza. The fast food mascot that we’ve all grown to love is turning 52 this year. And to celebrate this momentous occasion and pay homage to one of the greatest, most iconic purple cartoon characters to bask in the glory of modern-day capitalism, McDonald’s is throwing a birthday party catered with special meals and purple shakes. All expertly designed to make you dizzy with nostalgia and leave with your wallet lighter. Now, to all you Gen Z’ers out there, you’re probably scratching your head wondering, what on earth is Grimace? Is he a giant taste bud? The embodiment of a milkshake? The child inside us all? Or a giant purple butt plug? The matter of fact is that those last two questions probably shouldn’t have been put in the same sequence. But here we are. I write my words in stone and there’s no going back now.

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Bottled It.

How long until a group of Corona-inebriated reprobates vandalise this campaign with poorly drawn phalluses? My money is on that the deed has already been done. This unconventional Coronaless campaign aims to preserve our beaches and remind us filthy litterers that mother nature must be kept clean and pure. Maybe a bit too late for that, but we can try. Now, if you’re on the NHS waiting list to have cataract surgery, you’re probably wondering ‘why the hell am I staring at a topless man on the beach without a lager beer, what is he, a virgin?’. The short answer is, perhaps. For those 20/20 vision wizards out there, they can clarify the ad’s fine print reads ‘We returned the bottle of this ad. Return yours’. So, as you enjoy these bottle-less ads, do take a moment to appreciate Corona’s eco-warrior stance on pollution. Because, who needs bottles in a beer ad anyway? It’s not like they’re an essential part of the product. Props to Corona for enlightening and reminding us that sometimes, the best way to promote a product is by pretending it doesn’t exist at all. Cheers!

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Newkirk Flank, Anyone?

If there’s anything that infamous Argentine revolutionist Che Guevara has taught us in his final moments, it’s that the ultimate statement of defiance can sometimes be made in death. PETA’s founder, Ingrid Newkirk, has taken shock value to a new stratosphere with her latest will and testament. Remember the good ol’ days in school dissecting frogs and aiming their last stand of urine towards the person next to you? Well, this sicko can’t resist the allure of becoming a year 4 science project once she departs from this godforsaken world. Newkirk plans to bequeath her own flesh only to the worthiest of brands, individuals, and the Home Office. We can expect to see a new range of Newkirk x Hermès cured skin handbags, Salt Bae’s next Chitterlings dish, and a new hearing aid for King Felipe VI of Spain. You get the gist. Weird sh*t. By using her own flesh as a canvas for the horrors of animal abuse, she wants to draw attention to her lifelong fight against something called ‘speciesism’. Because nothing says “stop animal testing” like sending off your grilled flesh in vacuum-packed sandwich bags to unsuspecting victims.

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Serious Beef.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. If there’s anything we love at coolsh*t, it’s Maccies. But this story belongs technically to Burger King. I’m not pulling the wool over your eyes and blindsiding you with back2back fast food stories, but the two giants of bovine slaughter are beefin’. And it’s wonderful (sorry, not sorry, PETA). We’ve all used ChatGPT at some point in our lives. Whether you’re trying to figure out how to become an IG chef, devising a plan to take down Elon Musk’s empire, or seeking out clarity for your confusing sexual desires, really, it just wants to be your friend. In case you missed it earlier this week, McDonald’s asked ChatGPT to name the world’s most iconic burger. It’s not the Krabby Patty, although, it probably came in at a close 2nd. Infuriated by this AI flex, Burger King has gone for the throat and tactfully placed their own ChatGPT generated campaign next to theirs, exclaiming that the Whopper is the larger (mass) of the two. But does size really matter? I’ve been telling myself my entire life that it doesn’t. And I’m not stopping now.

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Jurassic Surprise.

Does the reptilian elite really exist? Could this be the second coming of the Holy One? In an act of divine intervention, and a round of ‘who did it better?’ (Virgin Mary v Croc), this beautiful freak of nature has been knocked up with no baby daddy in sight. This isn’t going to make it on to The Jeremy Kyle Show, but we could be witnessing the start of Jurassic Park. Described as nothing other than a virgin birth, or parthenogenesis for all you dorks, a Costa Rican crocodile living a life of solitude for the last 16 years has miraculously achieved immaculate conception. The first recorded instance in the species. Scoring high at 99.9% genetically identical, it seems this croc took the phrase “I am my own biggest fan” quite literally. Who needs a man when you have manifestation?

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