I started using some new toothpaste last night. It’s called “Corsodyl Daily”, and the best way to describe its taste would be to invite you to imagine that a cat had drunk an aromatherapy shop dry and then vomited copiously directly into your mouth whilst you were plucking up the courage to swallow the gob of spunk that had inexplicably appeared inside your oral cavity without, to your knowledge, anyone’s genitalia having been anywhere near your face.

Sorry. But it really is fucking disgusting. The thing is, though, Corsodyl are well aware that it tastes like some sort of hideous combination of essential massage oils, vomit and sperm, and they pretty much warn you of this on the back of the tube.

“It contains a special combination of plant extracts and mineral salt,” it says, “so you may find it takes a few weeks to get used to the unique taste and sensation.” I will resist the opportunity to make any obvious jokes at this juncture but I can think of at least one of you readers who are providing said joke for yourself right now. I can read your mind.

It doesn’t stop there, though. “Special combination” and “unique taste and sensation” sound quite positive, don’t they? Let’s not beat around the bush here, Corsodyl. You’d like everyone to know that your toothpaste tastes vile. So why not depict it with a handy graph—oh, you have.

Yes, that handly line graph you’re seeing right there (ignore the man behind the curtain toothpaste tube) is indeed a “product satisfaction over time” graph with no scale showing that early in your relationship with Corsodyl Daily, it will make you sadface, whereas an undisclosed amount of time down the road, you will be happyface as a direct result of using it. You’ll notice how the graph appears to operate in three dimensions, however, with the line of predicted satisfaction stretching off into the distance, leading me to wonder what the Z-axis represents. Amount of kittens you have allowed to vomit into your gullet? Number of oral sex “giving” sessions you’ve had? Quantity of pure essential oils consumed over the entire time period of you using the toothpaste?

Whatever. They have apparently proven that vomity-spunky-aromatherapypaste is worth persisting with, because they’ve proven it with SCIENCE! or possibly MATH!(S!)

The “buy this, it’s shit” approach appears to be gathering some momentum. I received a press release from an iPhone developer this morning chastising a large proportion of players for giving their game Crap of Defense the “highest rating for playability”. This in humorously broken English, too, which makes the whole thing even more enjoyable. I quote:

“We, the ifun4all team, have to communicate something very important. It is a violation of respect for us that all peples treat us like this. Our team will no longer tolerate such abuse of our game “Crap of Defense.” A large part of the population of players should be fined or even a public flogging as we do in our village. “Crap of Defense” was to be the worst game in the world, unfortunately, no one want to listen and then get the highest rating for playability. Enough of this. Our children will live with this stigma. Laszlo met a very nice girl, the daughter of a local merchant of birch syrup. The girl did not have one leg but friends says that they will have beautiful children. We decided to take the game out of the market. Hungary will win again.”

And then, of course, there’s the famous advertising campaign for Marmite, which proudly states up front that you might hate it. Ballsy. But apparently it works.

In fact, it’s the advertising equivalent of that arsehole at the bar who wanders up to the prettiest girl in the place, calls her a cunt and knocks her drink over and ends up shagging her for all eternity. In space. Surrounded by money. And more pretty girls.

I hate that guy.