As a kid growing up in Chicago, Jay Winebrenner saw his future in a local auto insurance commercial.
"It was the most hideously acted, poorly executed piece of advertising ever created," he says. "A giant eagle lands on a car and shits out a giant egg, which cracks open to reveal the company's rates. Explaining it doesn't do it justice."
He means that as a compliment.
A self-taught director with a keen eye for absurdist, low-budget what-the-fuckery, Winebrenner produces his own ads that could also be summed up as "you've really just got to see them." His first one, for the Beech Street Parlor in Northeast Portland, stars a flamboyant "magical cat-man"—sheathed in a spandex bodysuit that makes David Bowie's tights in Labyrinth seem modest—who teleports around the bar, extolling the virtues of the establishment's bacon sandwich and fresh-squeezed juice.
In a holiday-themed edition, a character named Uncle Christmas talks up the bar to a trio of elves, one of whom happens to be fashion magnate Donatella Versace.
A fake Doritos commercial, in which an orange-skinned devil terrorizes a suburban family while snorting lines of cheese dust, went mildly viral last year.
"I have a loose idea for a Billy Grippo commercial where he levitates over various Portland neighborhoods making branded benches materialize with his mind," Winebrenner says. "So if you are reading this, Billy Grippo, call me."