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…
Fergis T. McGillicuddy