Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Fortune Cookie 500 #'s 91-95
On futility
Diligence & ignorance rhyme for a reason.
On getting sick
It's not right to be thankful for a migraine.
On office supplies
I need to call McGuyver to find out what I can do with paper clips, pens, pencils and posts its.
On breaks
Coffee tastes better the farther you brew it from your office.
On work weeks
Vote for whoever mandates 4 day work weeks.
Monday, May 19, 2008
No more Hulk for a while.
I honestly could not do it anymore. Last Friday, I woke up and said... no more. I need a break. Sometimes you know. Your body starts telling you, enough is enough, sister. Huge headaches. No energy whatsoever. Just an enormous feeling of being so tired you can't even move. More so, my mental state was on the edge. I was this close to snapping to one of my clients. Being stupid or delivering idiotic changes late at night one more time and I would have screamed on the phone. I am not kidding. I was very close to going postal.
I didn't get on a plane. I didn't get drunk. I just packed my shit, a few shorts, tshirt and flip flops and drove two hours to a spot near the beach. Jesus. Talk about escaping big time.
The first moment I stepped in the little apartment I rented was pure magic. For a moment, I could not believe where I was. Not that the place was simply beautiful and amazing - it was - it just was that I was far away from my phone, my office, the jobs in my office, my printer... my clients.
I placed my bags at the floor and walked to the deck. Yes, I had a deck. When you walked in it... there was the ocean. I will not kid you, I spent hours and hours just listening to the water crash beneath me, listening to it flow... and suddenly I found peace. My entertainment from Friday to Monday - I just got home - was looking at Pelicans hunt for food, looking for schools of fish, watching the beautiful sunset, floating around in the ocean. I can bet that I relaxed more than people at Europe on a month's vacation.
I am not writing this to gloat. I am not writing this to torture other souls who haven't got time for a small vacation. In fact, I write about this because WE ALL NEED A BREAK. RestrictionsApply was right. When your mental state is going under, something has got to be done about it. We cannot let our life be affected by stupid people, stupid situations... we need to find a way to turn it off, to regroup, think, get our energy back.
Dudes and dudettes out there. Our wonderful readers!!! I truly care about each and every one of you, and my wonderful co-writers as well, and I beg of you. Escape. Do something. Click the work off. Plan it. Not just daydream about it. Don't have the money? Do you think that I do? No my friends, that's when American Express, Visa or MasterCard come into play. We sometimes think that money stops us from taking a break... you can do this. Have children? Take them along. I saw this weekend a family floating around in the ocean and having a blast. Basically... there is no excuse.
Your body needs it. Your mind needs it. You need to do this. And more often... Think about it.
Much love from a slightly tanned, new and improved, and most of all rested Me.
PS: This is a photo of where I was. A true pic, no kidding. I saw this beautiful sunset for days. Isn't it just amazing???
Mr. Client this is Mr. Paperweight, Mr. Paperweight... just sit there
With every meeting one goes to, there's always something new to find in regards to the people that are at the table making decisions or at least looking as if they are doing something remotely important apart from debuting their new gold cock cufflinks. There's the makers, the breakers, the despots, the assholes, the douche bags, the numnuts and if you hadn't noticed an additional member at the table, that's perfectly fine because you overlooked what is known as the Paperweight.
If you're not sure which person I'm referring to, please look over every person at the table and the one you'd vote most likely to be an animatronic is what I'm referring to. That's right, the person that always says the same things when they first see each other at a meeting, offer no opinion or anything resembling constructive anything and look two steps away from malfunctioning... especially if they asked a question.
The reality of the matter is that these people are in their positions due to inertia more than anything really. They are simply unwilling to move unless forcefully pink slipped and terminated. They sit at the table, smile on cue, look introspective on cue and pretty much do anything on cue since they're obviously catering to someone who swears they're useful for something if only to scream at, bitch, blame etc... much like a variety of shitty dog owners who have a canine that no matter how hard it's beaten, it still wags it's tail.
So what to do with these people? Absolutely nothing. I'm serious, don't waste your time because they're on autopilot and it's doubtful they're recording any of the experiences that are passing in front of them. It's almost like an animate coma where the person doesn't realize they're in a coma, they just wake up brain dead, eat breakfast, make as if they read the newspaper and masterfully fool society into thinking that there's even one alpha wave tangling around in their noggin.
So if someone seems like they're a genuine waste of space, feel free to walk up to them with a large stack of papers, ask them to stand, put them on their chair and leave.
cheers
Mririan or Magibon: The latest in meme what the fuckness
So what does it take to get more than a million clicks for a video on youtube.... or more than a million or maybe even 50 million. The answer is below.
Don't get me wrong, my inner pedophile with a preference for shy Asian schoolgirls is rejoicing, but really.... millions of people watch this? And this? And this? and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJyOIFfig0s&NR=1? and even this? and even this??????
Trendhunter has this to say about Magibon"
"Two themes interleave the online discussions ... seek to grapple with her popularity: One, that she's playing "pedobait," to use a lovely phrase, aiming to gain an audience of boys and men for ad-revenue purposes (i.e., she's a camgirl). And/or two, that she's making some kind of artsy, deep comment by playing a stereotype, that stereotype being either -- now hang with me here -- of pop culture-addled Japanese teenage girls, or of white American girls who play pop culture-added Japanese teenagers (which girls are known as "wapanese," a word roughly comparable to "wigger.")."
Now I don't know about you guys, but I'm definitely integrate the word wapanese into my vernacular. About the vids though... well I dunno, it's like some twisted game of pedobaiting just begging to be milked by porn sites, some meme driven adverts or just 13-16 year old boys who want to have a crusty computer keyboard. What do y'all think?
Friday, May 16, 2008
Vent or epiphany....
Friday night... 10:15 PM. I don't have a beer in my hand. I'm not at a party. I'm not getting laid. I'm not writing. I'm not in my bathtub. I'm not having sushi. I'm not completing my plans to take over the world. I'm at my desk... on a Friday Night.... at 10:16 PM. Every minute that passes is a minute wasted in my life. There's no AC because they turn those off after hours. There's no food because if I want something I'll have to go get it and I'm not in the mood to walk right now but give it half an hour and I know I'll want to nibble on something since I haven't had dinner... and it's 10:17 PM. Every breath I take right now has stale air and cheap chinese from the meals of two co-workers who are enjoying the same delicious scenario as me... and it's 10:18 PM. I grit my teeth, I clench my fist, I think about killing the piece of shit client that is running on Panama time or wherever the hell it is that he is because he's a selfish piece of shit and all I know for certain is that it is 10:19 PM. Another minute, another second, another breath of damp air. Another gulp of the reality that I am a peon who insists on being responsible when in reality I'm just punching my ticket so I don't go under evaluation because lord knows companies love making cuts, or that's what it seems since it happens every year. But then again, it might just be that it's Friday Night, 10:20 PM and I'm still at my office occasionally sharing a unified gaze with my creative significant other that is also in this rathole of a situation. Oh and it's 10:21 PM. Click, click, click, another second, another minute and I can't help but feel like I'm getting punked or tempted to go postal. But it isn't that. It's nothing done out of spite or for a gag, this is my job. To sit and wait for douche changes at 10:22 PM and all that makes sense right now is just getting a cardboard box, packing my shit and giving the company the finger. but doing that is pretty much advertising hara kiri or so I'm threatened into thinking. But you want to know what I think... I would too but I'm so tired that all I can focus on is 5 seven symbols. 1 followed by 0 followed by : followed by 2 then a three and then two capital letters that depress me more than watching Ben Affleck in Pearl Harbor. Oops, there goes another minute in your life, wait that was two, or three or... well it's 10:24PM and still, time drifts along limply and all I can think about is that it isn't worth it, that this is retarded, that this is really unfair, that it's 10:25PM and time fails to notice that I don't want it to pass. That I want to hold on to loose grains of time that slip through my fingers as I sit and wait impatiently for changes for an ad that makes no difference in the world and that at 10:26 PM represents the possible turning point in my life where maybe the seed has been planted to blossom into me leaving advertising. But I'm only kidding myself, it's 10:27 PM and I'm just tired, and shot, and frustrated and having day dreams, except at night, but without falling asleep. That's what this is, that point in time when you wake up, see that it's still 6 AM and you can't get back to sleep. Reality churns by, you know people are having fun, chucking beers, fucking, fondling, teasing, getting rejected, and here I am, 10:28 PM and in my desk. Still at my desk. Yeah, welcome to the greener pasture, welcome to the salvation from the other hellhole only to fall into the same bullshit except that the sequential serial number underneath this bullshit product reads 10:29PM and after just one digit next to your old agencies number. It's all the same some people say and at least for now, I believe it. I don't want to believe it, but such is the case at the moment, 10:30 PM and feeling I'm wasting my time on some inane and pointless bullshit since in less than a sentence it has turned into 10:31. Screw 1984... at least there was an end to that. This is like having to watch Queen of the Damned in slow mo for eternity. This is like listening to Cat Stevens religious albums, this is like... advertising. A piece of shit industry that at the moment has me stuck at my desk at 10:32 PM and I don't feel like stopping this stream of thought, and I don't think I'll proof this either because I've proof enough shit for today, and hey, it's 10:33 PM so I owe it to myself to at least not give a fuck while I'm giving a fuck because if I genuinely didn't give a fuck, I wouldn't be here. I'd be with my girlfriend, watching re-runs of Friends she knows the jokes to and is waiting to see my reaction, watching ESPN classic so she'll roll her eyes asking how the hell I can watch fights from 1984 and still be thrilled. But no, it's 10:34 PM, she bought me dinner and it'll probably go to waste or be eaten by someone else and I'm here, slugging it out in the creative world, earning my chops and paying my dues at 10:35Pm on a Friday night when I just want a beer and a hug from the woman in my life. But no, I have it drilled in my head that I have to be here, that I have to wait, that it matters, that I'm needed. but honestly, we all know I'm kidding myself because it's 10:36 PM and I'm still at my desk waiting on a client that would be as likely to put peanut butter on his genitals to have his labrador lick him off than he is to offer something constructive and positive like telling me I can go home and we can finish this on Monday since it's 10:37 PM and people really don't need to be waiting for their will to rain down from Olympus so they can eat, and rest and start enjoying what was supposed to be a normal weekend but that has already been cut down significantly because some douche bag with a power trip can't get his shit together at 10:38 PM while people are waiting to not be fired, to be responsible, to be team players and show we give a fuck while it becomes blatantly obvious that they don't give a flying, landed, swimming, interred, burning, procreating or exploding fuck. It's 10:39 Pm, my life is being widdled away by stupid shit when finally at 10:40 PM... I'm released or that's how the client wants to see the situation. Oh well, good night never land, if this is the dream I can't wait to wake up.
cheers
Fortune Cookie 500 #'s 86-90
On capricious clients
Your health, your life and your happiness is not their concern.
On your salary
For your well being, never compare your salary to the hours you work.
On patience
Even the Dali Lama has bad hair days.
On working late
If we know it won't make a difference, why do we insist.
On entrepreneurship
Asking if I'd open my own agency will be met with force.
Romancing the Bone
If you've ever had the delight of working any food or beverage account, it is quite likely you've had the chance to enjoy something they like to call "romancing" the product. Let me explain for those who haven't had the joy of romancing some random C grade food item people buy to save a buck and take a nice hunk out of their life expectancy. Culinary romancing consists of you pretty much overselling the item of choice that's being promoted. By overselling I specifically mean the description of the item. Let me illustrate.
Say you have... a chicken sandwich. In your print add you have a headline, the logo, some legal stuff and in bullet or paragraph form, the description of the product and/or what the product contains. So here's the format:
HEADLINE:
Mouthwatering cliché that's supposed to convince you to eat this piece of shit product.
LOGO + SLOGAN
BODY COPY:
* Crunchy chicken fillet
* Fresh Lettuce and tomato
* Special sauce
That's the basic premise for a tried and true food ad. You're on strategy, the layout looks good but eah..... hermmm.... umm....... that body copy.... yeah..... it could use..... just a bit more romancing....
"Ok" you respond. "What do you want?" you add.
"I don't know, just romance it a little." They respond.
Fine, the nitty gritty is that they want you to write
* Deliciously crunchy chicken fillet
* Crisp and fresh lettuce and tomato (make sure everything is in lower case because format is important... I'll explain this in another post)
* Delicious and savory special sauce
They see the add, they wet their pants and you've just sold exactly no new sandwiches because you added about four words. You see, when it comes to food adverts, there's only so much you can do with words when the visual just doesn't hold water. If you have a product shot that would make an anorexic cheerleader fingerbang her tonsils so she can later gorge on the product, then by all means, romance the fuck away. But if you have a shit product, some days you're just a little apprehensive about overselling the piece of shit stale cardboard chicken asshole patty on four week old bread with expired mayo your client has decided to rephrase yogurt ranch dressing to justify the runs you'll have.
So I say, well just exactly what does a client want... and since I can't be fully honest in the realm of the ads, I'll do some extra special romancing with a single patty burger, an energy drink and a luxury automobile.
1.) The Numero Uno - single patty pathetic piece of shit burger.
Hold tight boys and girls, you won't want to miss out on this tantalizing new flavor adventure from Donald King. A piece of meat has never felt so good in your mouth and swallowing has never been as satisfying. Two catwalk slim slices of bread embrace the heavenly combination of the freshest of fresh lettuce, tender and crisp like the aborted fetus of a cabbage patch doll. Then you'll have the honor of passing your incisors through hydrocultivated tomatoes, just dying to have you break their supple skin and feed on their flesh and seed. Finally, you'll be transported to a whole other dimension by tapping your tastebuds and engulfing your mouth with the slightest of earthy scented ground beef. Wash it all down with 16 ounces of the 21st century nectar of the gods Copsi, and disregard your clogging arteries for the sake of a multinational company that is invested in you investing in them.
2.) TrendXtreme - acid reflux inducing energy drink - urine, tangerine and passion papaya flavor.
Hey Trend X er, don't settle for just N-E energy human fuel, drink TrendXtreme. Feel the supernova cum bath of flavor in your mouth with every sip of the real energy drink. Forget those other artificial flavors, this is the one that will identify with you since you're sixteen and need to get a wicked buzz on the soft drink equivalent of Willy Wonka's Magical Eight Ball. Feel the perplexing combination of non-combining flavors to enhance your mouth and know what 2 cyborgs and one cup would taste like. So remember kids, if you need to be trendy and have breath like you just gargled Antifreeze and camel runs, drink TrendXtreme.
3.) Plymord Borealis - Gen Y directed crossover with 13 MPG highway
Feel the power, feel the force, feel the thunder feel no remorse. You are entering a new world, a new millenium, a new dimension and nothing you say, think or do will ever be the same. The Plymord Borealis has been designed specifically for the technologically advanced and environmentally absolved. Let your quest for fire begin with borealis and end with desire.
As you can see, it's all a heaving pile of shit. Now... what they're really selling and what they're really saying is a totally different ball game and knowing how interesting it could be, I've run these exact same copies through the Joker bullshit filter to see what lay behind the lines.
1.) The Numero Uno
This is the most pathetic piece of junk food ever assembled. We should be ashamed to even consider charging you three bucks for the smallest of combos, but since we don't have a conscience or a rigorous standard for hygiene, you can suffer the brunt of our economic slip and feast on a sandwich indecipherable to a panel of lab analysts. Eat this at your own risk and feel free to have more than one because this is our last shot at maintaining our market share and it shows.
2.) TrendXtreme
Hey there little fella, I'm a coke sniffing research and development tycoon hellbent on cashing in on the latest dying trend and you should really try my product because we have all the bases covered to offer you an energy drink: a shitty name with a huge X in the logo, enough guarana to give a rhyno a heart attack, a flavor consisting of an amalgam of components that would just as much be radiator fluid than an energy drink and a cool oversize or slim can so you can not only feel like a douche, but look like one too. Hauck over $3 for 23.79 oz of hurl and get ready to experience an instant ulcer.
3.) Plymord Borealis
We have no idea how to compete with Japanese Car Manufacturers and this is a hail mary at best. Please buy our car, we'll give you gas money, a blow job and even throw in that huge purple orangutan we have out front.
So there you have it, next time you read a description that just sounds too bullshitty to have been consciously created by a copywriter, please remember this eternal rule of middle finger... behind any decent copywriter, there's a prick AE willing to rape a newborn for a prick client.
cheers.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Fortune Cookie 500 #'s 81-85
On layoffs
Companies shall never believe you can get another job but shall forever consider you expendable.
On going to the competition
If you think an ex-lover is jealous, try switching agencies.
On hacks
There are more people justifying their salary than earning it.
On trust
Never take a call when you can save an email.
On being on time
No one is interested in the worm. Let me sleep a lil' more.
Rules of middle finger
Some people use their thumb, I'd rather just move two down if you don't mind. Random rules of the wonderful world of advertising.
1. If you signed it, you are fucked. You're rushed, stressed, tired, overworked, cranky, bitchy, PMSing or deep throating Danny Zukko. Tough shit jailbird, you put your dick in the grinder and you can and will be held accountable.
2. Being cocky doesn't make you right; it just makes people want to shut you up as fast as humanly possible.
3. Never ever erase any document you hand in. Odds are the layout will resemble its first incarnation rather than the failed alien fetus it looked like in its 47th version.
4. If they ask for a 30 sec spot, make sure it fits 23 for all the bullshit they will add.
5. You will always find someone or something to hate from a job. Try and see if it’ll be a bearable relationshit.
6. When you refer to 6:00 PM as the hour when normal people get out of work, it might be time for a vacation or a change of scenery.
7. If there’s someone who always chews on your pen when you lend it to them, try offering them a rusty chewed pencil to at least enjoy seeing them gag.
8. The most important skill you will learn in advertising is looking busy.
9. If a bitchy asshole exec comes near your area of work singing or whistling, feel free to scowl so you at least establish that you know they’re there to fuck you over.
10. There’s only one person you can confide in 100% at your workplace and you see their face mostly when you piss or have to take a shit.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
This ad is just awesome.
This ad makes me smile every single time I see it. Long live Discovery Channel.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
That Billboard is not Phat.
I have been stopping myself of writing about this but... today was enough. Why did I try to censor myself, against all WAS rules and regulations? It comes too close to home but... fuck it.
I was notified of a billboard/mesh somewhere hot and sunny which is pissing me off in a very interesting way. I find it truly offensive and I would like for someone to take it down. Trust me, there is almost nothing that offends me. But this piece sure does. It is for a brand of a diet soda. It has a huge picture of an overweight woman, not wearing enough makeup and a bit undone. The header is this: Listen to the fat chick. She will be hot in 10 years.
WHAT THE FUCK?
For a woman that battled her weight for quite a while and actually took the pounds off, I find this really disturbing. Yes, I was overweight back in the day. Yes, it took some time and I finally did something about it. You know what? It was hard. It took every energy of my being to concentrate on losing the weight and keeping it off. Losing weight is a hard job. It drains you mentally and emotionally. You really need to want the change, deep in your heart to achieve weightloss.
Add to that the fact that all overweight women have it hard. People are not nice. Tyra Banks once put on a "fat suit" and walked around in it for a day. She complained that all people were mean to her. BULLSHIT, Tyra. Try living with the "suit" for years and years, seeing it become bigger, then a bit smaller, then bigger again. Try going to shop with your "suit" and look how you feel when nothing fits like the mannequin. Try going to a bar and seeing all the men treat you differently for more than a day. Try listening to people tell you: damn, are you getting heavier? Why don't you lose the pounds already? (Like it was that easy) Then, you will know how damn fucking hard it is.
The thing that bugs me the most is the fact that there are hundreds, thousands of women who drive each day by that mesh and get reminded of their weight problem. Yeah, great. A woman is driving without a care in the world and someone reminds her how she still hasn't lost those 20 pounds. That will sure make her drink your stupid soda? If this tactic is to make you start a diet... then dammit it is the wrong way.
I'll tell you a story and I will leave it like that: one of my best friends once told me that I was too strong with men. In fact, he said that I was... unreachable to men. Why was I so difficult, he asked? Why men tried to talk or make a connection and I shot them down so fast? I got a damn good reason. When I had a little more weight in me, the world was different. Yes, I had my usual suspects roaming around and I always had someone to hook up with. But the truth is, when I lost the weight, the men-world opened up to me in a totally different way. Suddenly I started to get more calls. Suddenly I got more people interested in getting my number. Something had changed. It was outside. Superficial. Inside? I was and still am the same chick.
When this sort of bullshit comes into play, you become a little... guarded. You think... why this fucker suddenly wants to see me next Friday night but years ago I was just his cool friend? When the fuck did the friendship line suddenly become the booty call line? Oh, yeah. When I lost the weight you finally noticed that I maybe have something to offer? Screw you. You had your chance with me and my 15 more pounds. Now, no way man. This ship has sailed and you missed the boarding process. You cannot love someone just by the way she looks, and if you do, you are not the one for me.
That is a horrible mesh because of all that it signifies. Hold your horses, I am not saying that being overweight is bad. No way. I lived it and I would not change it for the world. With all the extra baggage that my little ass carried for quite a while, I still considered myself to be a beautiful chick with loads to offer and even some lucky men got to enjoy it. More so, I was happy just the way I was. I just found that being overweight, for me, was hurting my well being and my health was in jeopardy, so I did something about it.
Maybe for some ad agency and the stupid client that approved this piece of shit ad is a joke. Hey. Let's make a fat joke to sell more diet soda. Yeah. Let's not go the encouragement route. Let's not inspire people to make a change for the better and including our stupid soda in the equation. Let's not say... you are beautiful the way you are, enjoy our product and maybe you will start developing a healthier body. No. Let's make a fat joke.
Well, to those wonderful and idiotic people who approved this ad, I say, munch on this: beauty comes from within, not from your stupid Diet Sprite.
There. I said it.
I Hate the Chain Gang.
I am writing out of desperation. You see, I recently logged in my email and... bingo. Chain letters. Send this crap to 15 friends of yours and you will get your life together. Oh! I just received this crappy powerpoint with a naked dude and I wanted to share it!!! Do you know how Jesus loves you and how much 20 more of your friends need to know you love them back?
Jesus H Christ! This is not the fucking 90's! Are we a little too old for this shit? YES! I am dead tired of writing about this crap. More so, I am even more tired of receiving turd after turd of emails, with long lines of emails of people I don't know and are not planning to meet, ever. The worst? REPLY ALL. Yeah, those great "friends" that I sure have never set an eye out suddenly start writing back and arriving at my damn email. Oh, I love you too. Oh, I hit reply so I love you back.
The thing is? If I write to all of them saying that I don't need that kind of emails, then I'm the shmuck. I'm the asshole. Yeah. I'm the bad person that doesn't love Jesus, doesn't believe in saying I love you back, doesn't believe in the chinese horoscope and for some strange reason, don't like naked men in a powerpoint. I'm the asshole, great. Doesn't matter that they clog my emails with crap and the really important shit takes longer to upload... Great.
Look. I am writing this because if one person reads this and comprehends that people usually delete their crappy emails, then I will have made a difference. Wake up and smell the modem, people. It is nice that you need to send a cute message once in a while to your friends. Just... for God's sake, make it your own. Don't forward a crazy person's email!!! If you really need to write something to show your love, send something original and written by yourself. Wait. I got a better idea.
Want to show your friends that you truly care about them? How about being there when they need you? How about sharing time and a few beers after work? How about calling them just to see how they are? How about being there in their special moments, be it a promotion, a birthday, anniversary... anything special??? Trust me, it will show more that you are a friend than by sending something that will surely end up in the trash bin of their inbox. Unopened.
Jesus. If you know me and you are my friend, maybe you already know that I love you and that I don't need a shitty email to make our friendship stronger. If you don't know me... then why the fuck are you in my inbox???
Much love from a non forwarding Me.
Must Read: Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential
As you all know, if Tony Bourdain and I met in a dark alley, he would be in trouble. Baby making trouble. I find him so extremely cool and sexy, it is very disturbing - he is 52 years old, I'm thirtysomething. He has all the traits in a man that I go nuts for:
1) He swears, hard core.
2) He doesn't seem to be much likable and really doesn't care if he's liked by anyone else or not.
3) He cooks, smokes, drinks and dresses like a man. Not that metrosexual crap. Ugh.
Anyway, I decided (after a few years) to give Kitchen Confidential a try. You know when this happens, you know of a book for years and you find shit excuses not to buy it... when in fact you are missing out on a great read. This is exactly what happened and I now consider myself a total idiot for letting all that time pass.
This book is über cool. (Hey Restrictions, I used über!) It's the life of Bourdain, simple and to the point. No bullshitting around. We start off when he first discovers oysters and decides that he wants to do something with food at an early age... to the drug induced years cooking at Manhattan. Contrary to other biographies, this one is hard core. You get a sense that Tony... (can I call you Tony, my sweet babe?) just wanted to cook and get paid. He was a normal dude, but when he finished writing this book he became larger than life, a total accident.
Mix his cool ass stories about trying to make it as a cook with how people work in kitchens and you have a book that I would double dare you to let down for even a second. This book will make you not eat fish on Mondays and think twice about the bread in your restaurant. But, more importantly, you will get how much people fight, sweat and bleed for you to get your Filet Mignon on. The amount of work behind a kitchen is simply amazing, and I for one didn't realize how much it took.
If you are searching for a book that will not fry your head (think Narnia or some polar bear action packed book), let the chef do the mental bouillon for you.
Long live 52 year old sexy men who cook.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Our hearts are with the people of China
From all the guys here at WAS and myself, I want to say, to all the wonderful readers from China, you are in our prayers. We love you and hope that everything is starting to be ok... Have hope.
Want to help out? Try Habitat for Humanity. They built homes for Katrina Victims and I am sure they will do the same for China. Keep an eye out for when they start collecting money. The link is at the name of the post, save it in your bookmarks. Dudes, you can send anything you want. To give you an example of what your money can do:
$10 = Box of Nails
$35 = Roof Shingles
$50 = Low Flow Toilet
$75 = Window
$100 = Kitchen Sink
$150 = Front Door
$500 = Siding
$1000 = Wallboard
$2000 = Flooring
What else? It can make someone happy and feel safe again.
(Image via NYTimes)
Fortune Cookie 500 #'s 76-77-78-79-80
On inspiration
Desperation is often the best inspiration.
On finding that perfect line
The first five lines you write often have what's going to get approved.
On Awards
At least the AVN awards get rewarded for sucking, swallowing and taking it up the ass. you do it for free.
On professionalism
Making good advertising does not excuse you from being polite.
On inspiration
Often times my best lines come when I'm peeing.... The lesson then is to drink more water I guess.
Advertising I like
Yes it is possible, there are things I enjoy from this industry and there's work I not only think is noteworthy but good enough to be my comp's wallpaper. So to whoever did these, nice job and thanks for giving me something to keep the faith.
Cheers
Saturday, May 10, 2008
I'm going extreme.
You have been reading my bitching and moaning about anything... well, almost everything. But there is one thing I have kept to myself, which has been bugging me in all the wrong places - until today.
Yes my friends, it's the ugly life of routers. You see, I had the worst, and I mean the worst router brand, ever. Netgear. It sucks. I paid a shitload of cash for a router back in the day, thinking that I would have a reliable connection. Not so. Everytime the lights went out, my shitty router needed to be reset. I yelled at my IP people on a monthly basis, without honest reason because when I plugged the damn machine directly to the modem, suddenly all was peaches and cream.
Reset after reset, days went by. Today I had enough. Went to the local Best Buy and bought line hook and sinker the story about Mac's Airport Extreme. I gotta tell you, it's damn fast. Yeah, a bit expensive, but hey, I don't have to reset the damn thing anymore. More good stuff? It runs exactly like it would plugged directly to the modem. It was a joy to setup, and the difference was clearly there.
Granted, I still get crappy signal at my bedroom... but really, who needs to be connected in your place of... business? Yeah. Take that computer away from your bed, you hear me? It is no good there. You really don't need to know what's happening in Facebook just before you get your lovin' on. Trust me.
But anyway, if you are dealing with a crappy router and want to give it the special Office Space treatment... give Airport Extreme a chance.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Way Beyond the Top 40 - Elbow
While some top bands struggle to have 5 decent songs on one album Elbow is one of those bands that I've come across as randomly as I think it can get. Here's the story, I worked at a Broadcast Music Production department for a few months and part of my job was pretty much cleaning house because they had a wicked mess to put in in fun terms. It was really a disaster area. So I took about 3,000 cd's alphabetized them, put them in categories and drafted a search system to make it easier for the people in the department to find what they were looking for.
Ok so what's the point? Well there were quite a few repeats in cd's and I was given authorization to pretty much bag them and get them out of there because no one needed them.... hehehehehehehehehheeheheheheheheheheh....
Among the 100 or so cd's I acquired was Elbow's second album, Cast of Thousands.... there then began my love for this brit band that lord knows why they aren't even more successful. What do they sound like? Check out the videos because I'm not going to get into any comparison with a band that continually amazes me and mainly because to me, they definitely have their own sound. People focus on the lead singers voice but honestly, the entire band produce an ethereal wall of sound that you can't help but love to swim in. Turn down the lights, turn up the volume, grab a drink and when you're done, tell a friend about any of their four albums including the recently released Seldom Seen Kid. Your welcome.
Joker
Fugitive Motel- from Cast of Thousands
Powder Blue - Asleep in the Back
Asleep in the Back - Asleep in the Back
Beyond the Top 40 - Sigur Ros - Glossoli
Dare to dream
Dare to fly
Dare to live
Just dare
If not... don't cry.
- Joker
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Fortune Cookie 500 #'s 71, 72, 73, 74 & 75
On being responsible
There are no medals for never taking a sick day.
On chemistry
If at first you don't succeed, try, try another creative partner.
On anger
If I didn't believe in karma, you'd be dead and I'd be someone's girlfriend.
On racist comments
I'm not going to vote for Pedro, please desist from trying to be funny.
On cigarette breaks
Idiocy is often masked by the thick veil of nicotine.