Dear Swiftcover Insurance, and by extension, Iggy Pop

Swiftcover, the madness must stop.

When I’m watching television, every time the scheduled programing ends, there’s Iggy Pop, angry and shouting about insurance.

Swiftcover, no matter how much ad-time you’ve purchased, it won’t make your insurance products any more interesting to the general public.

Why do you believe a gaunt, sinewy rock star that resembles a breast-less Wicked Witch of the West is the best possible face for your company? Your company is not that rebellious or it wouldn’t be turning a profit.

You’d be better off having the gnarled wreckage of  car with the spongy crimson remains of a driver hanging out of it with bottle of Jack Daniels in one barely-attached hand as a spokesthing. The wails of the family choking to death on each other’s vomited blood in a crushed minivan opposite would be preferable to hearing Iggy Pop utter, “It’s time to r-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-d-d-d-d-e” ever again.

Just so you know…

Sincerely,

Fergis T. McGillicuddy

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