Who says long-form copy is dead? Well, I say it all the time. But I guess Weh-Ming Cho has proven me wrong. The Moncton, New Brunswick, resident has become an Internet star because of … a snowblower ad. His rambling, in-your-face, over-the-top classified ad, posted on eBay's Kijiji site, got more than 342,000 views in about five days and generated job offers, marriage proposals and media coverage for its author. In the ad (which is reminiscent of Dan Morgan's used-wetsuit ad from last March), Weh-Ming juices up the specs: "This is an 11 HP Briggs and Stratton machine of snow doom that will cut a 29-inch path of pure ecstasy." He makes an intense emotional appeal: "I want you to experience the rush that comes with smashing through a snowdrift and blowing that mother trucker out of the way." And he closes with manic panache: "You're probably wondering why I would sell my snowblower since the first snowpocalypse is upon us today. I'll tell you why: because I heard it was time for you to man up and harness some mighty teeth and claws and chew your way to freedom, that's why." Boo-yah! Best. Snowblower. Ad. Ever. The item was purchased, fittingly enough, by a wordsmith—Canadian columnist and editor Alec Bruce. On his blog, Weh-Ming explains that Bruce's offer "used full sentences, with grammar and spelling and everything." (That's more than I can sometimes say for my own work on AdFreak.) He adds: "[Bruce] also included the phrase: 'As a professional writer, I think we writer guys ought to stick together on matters of snow jobs!' … A man who makes a living of putting words to paper called me A WRITER. I may have done a little victory dance around the room." Given the state of the buyer's profession these days, Weh-Ming should insist on payment in cash. Photo above by akeg. Full ad after the jump.
Address Moncton, NB, Canada
Do you like shoveling snow? Then stop reading this and go back to your pushups and granola because you are not someone that I want to talk to.
Let's face it, we live in a place that attracts snow like Magnetic Hill attracts cars, only that ain't an illusion out there. That's 12 inches of snow piling up and, oh, what's that sound? Why it's the snow plow and it's here to let you know that it hates you and all the time you spent to shovel your driveway. Did you want to get out of your house today? Were you expecting to get to work on time? Or even this week?
You gave it your best shot. You tried to shovel by yourself and I respect you for that. I did it, my parents did it, some of my best friends did it. But deep down inside, we all wanted to murder that neighbor with the snowblower who was finished and on his second beer while you were still trying to throw snow over a snowbank taller than you are.
So, here we are. You could murder your neighbour, which could ensure that you won't need to shovel a driveway for 25 to life, but there are downsides to that too. What to do?
Here's the deal. I have a snow blower and I want you to own it. I can tell you're serious about this. It's like I can almost see you: sitting there, your legs are probably crossed and your left hand is on your chin. Am I right? How'd I do that? The same way that I know that YOU ARE GOING TO BUY THIS SNOWBLOWER.
I want you to experience the rush that comes with smashing through a snowdrift and blowing that mother trucker out of the way. The elation of seeing the snow plow come back down your street and watching the look of despair as your OTHER neighbour gets his shovel out once more while you kick back with a hot cup of joe (you don't have a drinking problem like that other guy).
Here's what you do. You go to the bank. You collect $900. You get your buddy with a truck and you drive over here. You give me some cold hard cash and I give you a machine that will mess up a snowbank sumthin' fierce. I've even got the manual for it, on account of I bought it brand new and I don't throw that kind of thing away. Don't want to pay me $900? Convince me. Send me an offer and I'll either laugh at you and you'll never hear back from me or I'll counter.
You want a snow blower. You need a snow blower.
This isn't some entry level snow blower that is just gonna move the snow two feet away. This is an 11 HP Briggs and Stratton machine of snow doom that will cut a 29 inch path of pure ecstasy. And it's only 4 years old. I dare you to find a harder working 4 year old. My niece is five and she gets tired and cranky after just a few minutes of shoveling. This guy just goes and goes and goes.
You know what else? I greased it every year to help keep the water off it and the body in as good as shape as possible. It's greasier than me when I was 13, and that's saying something.
You know how many speeds it has? Six forward and two in reverse. It goes from "leisurely" slow up to "light speed". Seriously, I've never gone further than five because it terrifies me. I kid you not, you could probably commute to work with it dragging you.
You know what else is crappy about clearing snow in the morning? That you have to do it in the dark. Well, not anymore! It has a halogen headlight that will light your way like some kind of moveable lighthouse (only better, because lighthouses won't clear your driveway).
Oh, and since it's the 21st century, this snow blower comes with an electric starter. Just plug that sucker in, push the button, and get ready to punch snow in the throat. If you want to experience what life was like in olden days, it comes with a back-up cord you could pull to start it, but forget that. The reason you're getting this fearsome warrior was for the convenience, so why make it harder on yourself?
By this point, you're probably wondering why I would sell my snowblower since the first snowpocalypse is upon us today. I'll tell you why: because I heard it was time for you to man up and harness some mighty teeth and claws and chew your way to freedom, that's why.
This is my snow blower. Make it your snow blower.