MORE

Five worst food and beverage slogans ever

5. "Make 7-Up Yours." This sody-pop slogan from the late 1990s was so incredibly horrible that it was actually kind of cool -- particularly since some folks got pissed off at the naughty language, and the implication that that the bubbly lemon-lime soda should be rammed up and into dark, sweaty orifices. In fact, I still have a bright green T-shirt with "Make 7" on the front and "Up Yours" on the back.

4. "I'm Lovin' It!" McDonald's came out with this simplistic, Justin Timberlake-crooned theme slogan-ette in the mid 2000s -- at the same time JT and boys' choirs were popular -- and I remember thinking that this particular slogan wasn't accurate at all: I didn't know a single person over, say, the age of twelve who still really loved anything on the McDonald's menu. Mostly people just order the double cheeseburgers, fries, pies and shakes, ignore their primal urges of self-preservation while stuffing down the grub -- and then feel fifty shades of ashamed and penitent immediately afterward. Maybe McDoo should have run with the slogan "I'm Lovin' It Until I Want to Regurge in an Old Tupperware Bowl with a Lid."

3. "If it doesn't get all over the place, it doesn't belong in your face."

Just what, exactly, was good old Carl's Jr. talking about?  

Wazzzuuup? Not this.
Wazzzuuup? Not this.

2. "I'd Hit It!"

With this slogan, McDonald's execs showed that they were so far away from understanding urban-youth culture that they should have applied for passports to visit it. When I saw this online, I laughed so hard I might have drizzled in my drawers, and thought it was a joke. And then, when I discovered that this was an actual slogan, I laughed so hard my drunk neighbors told me to shut my face-hole or they'd burn down my apartment with half a bottle of vodka and a crème brulee torch.

1. "Wazzzuuup?"

I was pissed as hell at Budweiser when it unleashed this hairy beast of a slogan onto the earth in 1999. Pop-culture catchphrase, my ass: this slogan gave carte blanche to every popped-collar, khaki-shorts wearing, sideways-visor sporting, seashell-necklace-wearing, Bluetooth headset-having, pisswater-beer-swilling, dick-swinging douche-a-maroo guy to leave Banana Republics and TGI Friday's restaurants everywhere and take to the streets.

It was absolute mayhem for a while there, with douche-dodging becoming an actual sport, and women with brain cells and self-respect felt their very lives and sanity threatened. But there was a silver lining: While the Drakkar Noir parade screamed this mating call aloud, they were easier to avoid.



Sponsor Content

Newsletters

All-access pass to top stories, events and offers around town.

Sign Up >

No Thanks!

Remind Me Later >