Jun 7, 2006
Doodle Dee, Doodle Dumb: Me
Sometimes you really don't know how to look at stuff that happens, right? Weird. Very weird.
Late as Hell - Would you rather be here?
A great dude who helps me a lot with the Monday sucks photo has outdone himself. This is a great example of a great fact: we would be anywhere but at the agency. he writes:
"A good holiday doesn’t always have to mean white sand beaches, mimosas and fine dining. On Monday, let’s celebrate crab grass, Pabst Blue Ribbon and road-kill pot roast. It’s still better than being at work."
True. So True. Thanks dude!
"A good holiday doesn’t always have to mean white sand beaches, mimosas and fine dining. On Monday, let’s celebrate crab grass, Pabst Blue Ribbon and road-kill pot roast. It’s still better than being at work."
True. So True. Thanks dude!
Jun 6, 2006
Don’t shit where you work
Face it, we’ve all had that dreadful day where the Taco Salad was a bad call. Maybe the custard was a bit old, maybe the mayo was really yogurt and just maybe washing down five bean burritos with beet juice might have been just a bit too much. You clench, you do anal kegles but no matter, you’re fucked. You have to poop.
You try and shimmy your way past the receptionist without releasing a preemptive test fart and your face looks like you just gave Drew Carrey a blowjob while he wore a grapefruit flavored condom. You tip toe so lightly you could swear some damn violinist was doing pizzicato with each step you took. You open the door, is the coast clear? YESSSSSS……
You open the stall, waddle through penguin-like and are faced with a creature you could swear was the love child of a monster from a John Carpenter film and an Alabama septic tank. There’s no way your ass is even going to hover over that pulsating crap heap. You check the other stall, flies aside it’s half way shittable so you unzip and pray to god your thighs are strong enough to avoid to potentially VD friendly surface of the toilet seat. You’re in the zone, your breathing eases, you fin your zen place when suddenly… someone comes into the bathroom and you can’t face letting any other living being know exactly what your poop shoot is capable of voicing. Double the clench and now your ass begins to hurt. You recite prayers you hadn’t said since you were in grade school and you think about anything instead of the bliss it would truly be to make someone gag with your audio-odorous stunt show but you opt for good taste and hold your breath as tears well your eyes and you realize that you are way too nice. A flush, ten seconds at the wash bin and a door click later you say to hell with it and release what would definitely a finishing maneuver in any Mortal Kombat title that decided to include shit in it. The torrent of oatmeal textured goodness splashes and for a full three seconds, you don’t care about the splash that just dappled your rim. You breathe the putrid air and act as if it were delicious, being thankful that you were able to make it to the john.
Clank, clank… clank, clank, clank, CLANKKKKKKKK. It doesn’t flush! No, no, nooooooo. You stand up and cruelly swipe the sandpaper single-ply paper across your exhausted sphincter, you toss the paper over the mashed innards you just disposed of as if covering the dead body of someone who was real close to you. You pull once again on the handle only to replied with a dry, lame, limp clank. You look at the floor, and slightly moistened by water and urine lays a paper that after a moment or two of deciphering the washed letters you can make out three short words. Out… of... order. You feel bad for what has transpired and can barely look at yourself in the mirror as you finish rinsing your hands. How could you do that? You should have checked for that paper. You should have made sure. But you didn’t. you suck… and so does the other bastard who messed up the other stall.
The moral of the story? Shit happens every day. Some people stress over it, some don’t care. Try and just let things flow and if any problem arises, act as if it has nothing to do with you. And most important of all, just remember two things: 1.) at least shit got done and 2.) someone will always have to deal with someone else’s shit, including yours.
You try and shimmy your way past the receptionist without releasing a preemptive test fart and your face looks like you just gave Drew Carrey a blowjob while he wore a grapefruit flavored condom. You tip toe so lightly you could swear some damn violinist was doing pizzicato with each step you took. You open the door, is the coast clear? YESSSSSS……
You open the stall, waddle through penguin-like and are faced with a creature you could swear was the love child of a monster from a John Carpenter film and an Alabama septic tank. There’s no way your ass is even going to hover over that pulsating crap heap. You check the other stall, flies aside it’s half way shittable so you unzip and pray to god your thighs are strong enough to avoid to potentially VD friendly surface of the toilet seat. You’re in the zone, your breathing eases, you fin your zen place when suddenly… someone comes into the bathroom and you can’t face letting any other living being know exactly what your poop shoot is capable of voicing. Double the clench and now your ass begins to hurt. You recite prayers you hadn’t said since you were in grade school and you think about anything instead of the bliss it would truly be to make someone gag with your audio-odorous stunt show but you opt for good taste and hold your breath as tears well your eyes and you realize that you are way too nice. A flush, ten seconds at the wash bin and a door click later you say to hell with it and release what would definitely a finishing maneuver in any Mortal Kombat title that decided to include shit in it. The torrent of oatmeal textured goodness splashes and for a full three seconds, you don’t care about the splash that just dappled your rim. You breathe the putrid air and act as if it were delicious, being thankful that you were able to make it to the john.
Clank, clank… clank, clank, clank, CLANKKKKKKKK. It doesn’t flush! No, no, nooooooo. You stand up and cruelly swipe the sandpaper single-ply paper across your exhausted sphincter, you toss the paper over the mashed innards you just disposed of as if covering the dead body of someone who was real close to you. You pull once again on the handle only to replied with a dry, lame, limp clank. You look at the floor, and slightly moistened by water and urine lays a paper that after a moment or two of deciphering the washed letters you can make out three short words. Out… of... order. You feel bad for what has transpired and can barely look at yourself in the mirror as you finish rinsing your hands. How could you do that? You should have checked for that paper. You should have made sure. But you didn’t. you suck… and so does the other bastard who messed up the other stall.
The moral of the story? Shit happens every day. Some people stress over it, some don’t care. Try and just let things flow and if any problem arises, act as if it has nothing to do with you. And most important of all, just remember two things: 1.) at least shit got done and 2.) someone will always have to deal with someone else’s shit, including yours.
Jun 5, 2006
Battle of the Sex Posts isn't over.
Well, seems like we have more men willing to fess up than females! Although sad, you are all giving me the right to proudly say I told you so, and lookie here, lots of men confessed. Now... we need more women to comment down the "for guys" post. Dammit, I did it, so can you, sister.
Yet another lesson on why I never ask for favors
It’s funny, no matter how hard I try, no matter how many people I offer a helping hand, 90% of the times I’ve ever asked for a favor, people don’t come through and while some people insist on looking at the glass as half full, I am not one of those people.
This weekend was a perfect case study of why I hate asking for favors and it rests solely on the reason that I hate being disappointed. No matter where I’ve worked, if I’ve ever asked for a favor I get gypped. Do I need tickets, a VIP pass, a T-shirt or even a free beer? Sorry sonny, we tried but we couldn’t come through… for you. And I make that last part clear because I keep seeing people getting what they ask for and it’s a combination of various factors mainly stemming on the fact that I’m not one to beg for anything. If it’s so much of a hassle or you need me to kiss your ass too much, by all means shove it and keep it for yourself. But if you say ok, let’s go, you’re game and you’re going to come through, why do people always end up fucking up in the end. And I’m not saying friends, I’m saying people. Fellow co-workers, the people that in a war-like situation you’d need to have your back. And what happens? Ambush because, sorry we couldn’t come through… for you. Johnny pencil dick made it, Leslie juicy tits always gets royal treatment, Kyle I-might-have-a-yacht is safe, yet joker guy-who-always-does-his-best-to-pull-through-for-you gets the shaft. In all honesty, not a single time have promo people truly been there for me and I can count the times an AE comes through with a favor, and chance has it, it’s the same people I see as fit AE’s and nice people because those are the ones that back you up because you back them up.
Do I get an apology, something to make up for the fuck up and embarassment? No, Why should I? I actually got asked by a guy who shafted me this weekend for a favor. I was tempted to say no, but being the fucking schmuck I am, I did him the favor anyways, even if 2 minutes later I got confirmation that what I did wasn’t even read, much less used. So coming to terms with all the jerkoffs that have not been able to give me a helping hand when I needed it, yet they still seem to need my help from time to time, here’s one last request, could you please fuck off?
This weekend was a perfect case study of why I hate asking for favors and it rests solely on the reason that I hate being disappointed. No matter where I’ve worked, if I’ve ever asked for a favor I get gypped. Do I need tickets, a VIP pass, a T-shirt or even a free beer? Sorry sonny, we tried but we couldn’t come through… for you. And I make that last part clear because I keep seeing people getting what they ask for and it’s a combination of various factors mainly stemming on the fact that I’m not one to beg for anything. If it’s so much of a hassle or you need me to kiss your ass too much, by all means shove it and keep it for yourself. But if you say ok, let’s go, you’re game and you’re going to come through, why do people always end up fucking up in the end. And I’m not saying friends, I’m saying people. Fellow co-workers, the people that in a war-like situation you’d need to have your back. And what happens? Ambush because, sorry we couldn’t come through… for you. Johnny pencil dick made it, Leslie juicy tits always gets royal treatment, Kyle I-might-have-a-yacht is safe, yet joker guy-who-always-does-his-best-to-pull-through-for-you gets the shaft. In all honesty, not a single time have promo people truly been there for me and I can count the times an AE comes through with a favor, and chance has it, it’s the same people I see as fit AE’s and nice people because those are the ones that back you up because you back them up.
Do I get an apology, something to make up for the fuck up and embarassment? No, Why should I? I actually got asked by a guy who shafted me this weekend for a favor. I was tempted to say no, but being the fucking schmuck I am, I did him the favor anyways, even if 2 minutes later I got confirmation that what I did wasn’t even read, much less used. So coming to terms with all the jerkoffs that have not been able to give me a helping hand when I needed it, yet they still seem to need my help from time to time, here’s one last request, could you please fuck off?
This one is for the guys
Seeing as men have once again come under fire from female scrutiny, I thought it only fair to offer some queries from some men in regards to the actions of some women. Generalizing has been an issue so feel free to address it as you wish and if you’re offended, ask yourself why you’re offended. Enjoy.
1.) Why do women like men who are taken? Is the competition too much to ignore? Do you need to prove your female prowess clawing over a taken penis? Please, calm the head banging of single men all around, we’d love to know.
2.) If a woman gets cheated on once, twice, and three times, why is the problem with the whole male race and not with that particular woman’s taste in men?
3.) Why do so many women deny that they masturbate? Yes I know this chauvinistic society sucks but instead of cowering in shame over rightfully getting yourselves off, shove it in their faces because if it’s ok for a guy to jerk off constantly as long as his nutsack is able to produce a nice gooey ending, I don’t see a problem with a girl polishing her nails aux naturale.
4.) Why do women fake orgasms? If the man fails at making you climax he should end up feeling like a loser and he should know about it. He should also know what to do to help you get the satisfaction you deserve. It’s called communication. If you fake an orgasm you are just misdirecting guilt to be centered on you and if he doesn’t care if you came or not, then what the hell does that tell you about your relationship and the man you’re with?
5.) Why do women insist on being cockblocks for their male friends? Do not dodge the question and just tell us why if friends are hanging out, and a guy is trying to talk to a girl, 55% of the time a female friend will sabotage their approach? I’ve seen this up close so by all means, don’t try and tell me that this doesn’t happen.
6.) Why do women always expect chivalry yet never offer the same details to men? I am fucking blessed to have such a caring woman for a partner; but I see that this little detail that comes so naturally to her escape so many other women I know.
7.) When did one night stands become a love contract? Last I checked, when two people want to fuck, they fuck. Period, end of story, nice to know you, thanks for the orgasm I might even like to do this again. When we say no strings attached, we mean no strings attached. I know women who can do this and they get accused of being a tomboy or even unlady like (in many instances they are declared a slut) and that’s total bullshit. If you love someone and they just want to fuck you, make sure to not let dreams and positive vibrations get you in a situation where you will be hurt. It’s not that he’s a prick because he doesn’t love you; he doesn’t have to love you. Love is when two people share the sentiment. If one of the two just wants to fuck the only thing that needs to be made clear is that no strings attached are wanted and if you try to kid yourself that you can pull it off without becoming attached, think again.
8.) Why do women insist on convincing themselves that porn is just for boys? I know girls who love porn and they have to do it in hiding because it is evil. Total horseshit. If you like it, bless you and may your collection put all men’s to shame.
9.) Do you really think men believe the whole “wow it’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen” bit? Only when you take a deep gulp and stand there pondering a second or two are we even on the verge of mildly believing we might be the top cock in your catalogue.
10.) If you dress seductively, why do you get angry if an ugly guy looks at you? I know it’s not pleasant but it’s not his fault. Don’t go calling him names because you made yourself look good and he noticed. He’s not saying that you’re fat, he’s not saying your hair is puffy, he’s ogling. Let’s put it this way, a mouse trap sometimes traps flies, cockroaches, butterflies and even some lizards even if the trap is meant for a mouse. The same goes for men and women and you should at least feel good that someone noticed you got all fixed up.
So how bout it? Anyone willing to step up to the plate and answer to the pig that wrote this? Men are waiting. So by all means, dish it out because if anything, just remember one thing ladies, if men are pigs, women are sows.
Kind Regards,
Joker
1.) Why do women like men who are taken? Is the competition too much to ignore? Do you need to prove your female prowess clawing over a taken penis? Please, calm the head banging of single men all around, we’d love to know.
2.) If a woman gets cheated on once, twice, and three times, why is the problem with the whole male race and not with that particular woman’s taste in men?
3.) Why do so many women deny that they masturbate? Yes I know this chauvinistic society sucks but instead of cowering in shame over rightfully getting yourselves off, shove it in their faces because if it’s ok for a guy to jerk off constantly as long as his nutsack is able to produce a nice gooey ending, I don’t see a problem with a girl polishing her nails aux naturale.
4.) Why do women fake orgasms? If the man fails at making you climax he should end up feeling like a loser and he should know about it. He should also know what to do to help you get the satisfaction you deserve. It’s called communication. If you fake an orgasm you are just misdirecting guilt to be centered on you and if he doesn’t care if you came or not, then what the hell does that tell you about your relationship and the man you’re with?
5.) Why do women insist on being cockblocks for their male friends? Do not dodge the question and just tell us why if friends are hanging out, and a guy is trying to talk to a girl, 55% of the time a female friend will sabotage their approach? I’ve seen this up close so by all means, don’t try and tell me that this doesn’t happen.
6.) Why do women always expect chivalry yet never offer the same details to men? I am fucking blessed to have such a caring woman for a partner; but I see that this little detail that comes so naturally to her escape so many other women I know.
7.) When did one night stands become a love contract? Last I checked, when two people want to fuck, they fuck. Period, end of story, nice to know you, thanks for the orgasm I might even like to do this again. When we say no strings attached, we mean no strings attached. I know women who can do this and they get accused of being a tomboy or even unlady like (in many instances they are declared a slut) and that’s total bullshit. If you love someone and they just want to fuck you, make sure to not let dreams and positive vibrations get you in a situation where you will be hurt. It’s not that he’s a prick because he doesn’t love you; he doesn’t have to love you. Love is when two people share the sentiment. If one of the two just wants to fuck the only thing that needs to be made clear is that no strings attached are wanted and if you try to kid yourself that you can pull it off without becoming attached, think again.
8.) Why do women insist on convincing themselves that porn is just for boys? I know girls who love porn and they have to do it in hiding because it is evil. Total horseshit. If you like it, bless you and may your collection put all men’s to shame.
9.) Do you really think men believe the whole “wow it’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen” bit? Only when you take a deep gulp and stand there pondering a second or two are we even on the verge of mildly believing we might be the top cock in your catalogue.
10.) If you dress seductively, why do you get angry if an ugly guy looks at you? I know it’s not pleasant but it’s not his fault. Don’t go calling him names because you made yourself look good and he noticed. He’s not saying that you’re fat, he’s not saying your hair is puffy, he’s ogling. Let’s put it this way, a mouse trap sometimes traps flies, cockroaches, butterflies and even some lizards even if the trap is meant for a mouse. The same goes for men and women and you should at least feel good that someone noticed you got all fixed up.
So how bout it? Anyone willing to step up to the plate and answer to the pig that wrote this? Men are waiting. So by all means, dish it out because if anything, just remember one thing ladies, if men are pigs, women are sows.
Kind Regards,
Joker
Jun 4, 2006
SWF looking for honest men.
Tomorrow's "Would you rather..." photo will be placed during the day, since I really want this post to be seen, ASAP.
Wait. Wait. I'm not that desperate. It's just that recently I have been talking to some girlfriends of mine, about, what else... Men. Let's be more specific, shall we? Men problems. I give my opinion, but I think since I'm a chick as well, they take it as hearsay. I mean... I don't truly know what men do or think. So, here's the thing. I need your answers on some questions they have. Maybe if men answer honestly, they will read this and know what to do. Um, by the way, if you have people who know who you are at this blog, and you are male, take my word for it: answer anonymously. You really will get into trouble.
Ok. Please don't judge the questions. Just answer if you can. Thanks.
1) Men can do it with anyone who flashes their boobs and/or ass. It doesn't matter if you are in love or not. Men will get laid if the situation appears. They might even not like the dudette that much, but if they can, they will go for it. True or false?
2) Men can have sex with more than two women at the same time and not feel guilty about it. True or false?
3) Most of the time, when men say "I'm leaving her", they actually say it to calm the nerves of the poor women who believe this. They actually are really not planning to leave. They are just having a good time. True or false?
4) Most men at some time have imagined having sex with all their female friends. True or false?
5) Evidence of unfaithfulness or a blatant lie has occured. They have no excuse or alibi. They will proceed to say "it wasn't me" for as long as they live, just because they don't want the mandatory fight which is in order and don't want to accept they were caught. True or false?
6) Men can say "I love you" to more than one women and not feel any remorse at all. True or false?
7) Men can lie to a woman looking straight at her eyes, go home, look at their faces in the mirror and not feel ashamed or guilty about the huge whopper they delivered nor feel guilty about the fact that their very in love woman believed him with all her heart. They don't even feel afraid they will be caught sometime later in life. True or false?
I think that's about it, if I remember correctly. If any more questions arrive, I'll make another post. Come on guys, do this for us chicks who are tired of talking about you. Make a woman happier and more educated about your kind. You'll do a better good for mankind. I mean... womankind.
Wait. Wait. I'm not that desperate. It's just that recently I have been talking to some girlfriends of mine, about, what else... Men. Let's be more specific, shall we? Men problems. I give my opinion, but I think since I'm a chick as well, they take it as hearsay. I mean... I don't truly know what men do or think. So, here's the thing. I need your answers on some questions they have. Maybe if men answer honestly, they will read this and know what to do. Um, by the way, if you have people who know who you are at this blog, and you are male, take my word for it: answer anonymously. You really will get into trouble.
Ok. Please don't judge the questions. Just answer if you can. Thanks.
1) Men can do it with anyone who flashes their boobs and/or ass. It doesn't matter if you are in love or not. Men will get laid if the situation appears. They might even not like the dudette that much, but if they can, they will go for it. True or false?
2) Men can have sex with more than two women at the same time and not feel guilty about it. True or false?
3) Most of the time, when men say "I'm leaving her", they actually say it to calm the nerves of the poor women who believe this. They actually are really not planning to leave. They are just having a good time. True or false?
4) Most men at some time have imagined having sex with all their female friends. True or false?
5) Evidence of unfaithfulness or a blatant lie has occured. They have no excuse or alibi. They will proceed to say "it wasn't me" for as long as they live, just because they don't want the mandatory fight which is in order and don't want to accept they were caught. True or false?
6) Men can say "I love you" to more than one women and not feel any remorse at all. True or false?
7) Men can lie to a woman looking straight at her eyes, go home, look at their faces in the mirror and not feel ashamed or guilty about the huge whopper they delivered nor feel guilty about the fact that their very in love woman believed him with all her heart. They don't even feel afraid they will be caught sometime later in life. True or false?
I think that's about it, if I remember correctly. If any more questions arrive, I'll make another post. Come on guys, do this for us chicks who are tired of talking about you. Make a woman happier and more educated about your kind. You'll do a better good for mankind. I mean... womankind.
My university, on film: Art School Confidential.
Yesterday I went to the movies, and the pick that day was either Poseidon or Art School Confidential. We decided to skip the huge wave - it's going to be at the movieplex for a damn long time anyways - and decided for some independent flavor. Good choice. If you are one of us who attended art school, this movie is for you.
Ok, the "brief": a young dude starts off his semester at art school. He encounters what all of us did: the cliches. The crazy art chick who cries and wears dark all day. The drop out who has been at the shit for years and years. The dude who sucked beyond belief but no one told him. The experimental dude who simply ignores the rules and think garbage is art. The kiss ass who does every single thing he can to pass the class. The frustrated teacher who didn't make it. And of course, the main character, who has talent way beyond this earth but no one sees it.
It starts off like a stupid teen movie, but the plot thickens a bit. If you ignore the commercial twist, you get the underlying point in this movie. It's not what you do and how you do it, it doesn't matter if you are good. It's only who you know and how you play the game. So true in life...
I wanted to be a painter at one time. I studied hard. Made decent pieces in my time. But I simply coudn't enter the world. I found it tacky and superficial. What I hated the most were art exhibits. The wine. The stupid comments done by people who actually didn't have a clue. The clothes. The elevator music. Something didn't click with me, at all. But I still remember many good things about my four years at art school... And those memories I could relive in a second.
The long saturdays painting with loud music. The camping where we would all take pictures, draw and drink until we couldn't no more. We were a bunch of friends who used each other as models, as teachers, as critics. Some took it seriously, some of us knew we were going to end up at an ad agency (damn, if we knew then what we know now, right?) For a split second every single one of us thought we could actually make a life being painters. But slowly we realized. Just a few could make it. In my class, none did. Every one changed jobs, even careers, when money was needed.
I don't paint anymore. Time just passes by and I just don't seem to find the time. I even threw out all my materials, knowing full well my life in art was finished. And, here's the punchline. Yesterday before going to the movies, I went to a real expensive restaurant to celebrate my mom's 53rd b-day; first of all because I love her to death, second because I needed to eat a decent hot meal (dad paid, of course, because I have almost no money, dammit). This place has huge pieces of art everywhere you look. So I ask, how much are they asking for that piece, and that piece. Thousands. I mean Traffic Director salary thousands. So I keep looking at them, in total disbelief. All the pieces resembled how I painted, and how many of my dear friends painted as well.
It doesn't matter that I can be that good. It only matters who I'd need to know if I wanted to sell my pieces. In fact. I have a wonderful piece at my house of a friend I miss dearly. He was excellent. He could kick any of the painter's ass I saw yesterday. But since he didn't like to kiss ass, he left his passion and starting working for the government. A desk job. I find this cruel and wrong.
Maybe I will gather some cash and start doing it again. Maybe I need that, to calm the nerves and pass some time with myself. Who knows. But yesterday, that movie was great. It is always nice to remember a good time in your life. Right?
Fact: Some of our readers don't get the point.
This is for all those people out there who post comments saying that we should stop yapping and change jobs if we don't like it that much.
Screw you, you don't understand.
First of all, we're all here because, yes, we do hate some parts of our job. But that's not a reason to say we're all unhappy campers who wish for something better to do. Here's the fact, jack: we love our jobs. We love what we do. Most of all, we come together in this blog of hatred because we love our jobs so much, we bitch about people who make it difficult for us to do it. Haven't you noticed we bitch about OTHERS? Stupid AE's. Dumb fuck CD's. Ignorant and not prepared clients. We sometimes even love, love, loooove to bitch about creatives, which we are all here (at least most of the writers), just because they sometimes also suck testicles by being true cliches.
We bitch and moan, get angry to the point of daydreaming of being postal because we care about what we do, and we get angry when people little by little make our lives and ads worse by the minute. I can bet the few hundred dollars I have in my bank account that if we could eliminate dumb people, being the coworkers or clients, this blog would be written like... hell, like Adweek or something. Oh, and another thing. We'd all win big prizes and have an amazing portfolio of actual printed stuff.
You see, we all bought the story. When we started out - at least some of us who have years under our belts - we believed that we were going to live the ad life. And when dumb fucks try to destroy that dream, we get angry. We truly want our honeymoon phase back. That's why we blog ourselves to death here, every single damn day, because we all find something that annoys the shit out of us.
Like Matt Damon said... How do you like THEM apples?
Screw you, you don't understand.
First of all, we're all here because, yes, we do hate some parts of our job. But that's not a reason to say we're all unhappy campers who wish for something better to do. Here's the fact, jack: we love our jobs. We love what we do. Most of all, we come together in this blog of hatred because we love our jobs so much, we bitch about people who make it difficult for us to do it. Haven't you noticed we bitch about OTHERS? Stupid AE's. Dumb fuck CD's. Ignorant and not prepared clients. We sometimes even love, love, loooove to bitch about creatives, which we are all here (at least most of the writers), just because they sometimes also suck testicles by being true cliches.
We bitch and moan, get angry to the point of daydreaming of being postal because we care about what we do, and we get angry when people little by little make our lives and ads worse by the minute. I can bet the few hundred dollars I have in my bank account that if we could eliminate dumb people, being the coworkers or clients, this blog would be written like... hell, like Adweek or something. Oh, and another thing. We'd all win big prizes and have an amazing portfolio of actual printed stuff.
You see, we all bought the story. When we started out - at least some of us who have years under our belts - we believed that we were going to live the ad life. And when dumb fucks try to destroy that dream, we get angry. We truly want our honeymoon phase back. That's why we blog ourselves to death here, every single damn day, because we all find something that annoys the shit out of us.
Like Matt Damon said... How do you like THEM apples?
Jun 3, 2006
Jun 2, 2006
A Post from the Net: Ludicrous Jobs
Don't you sometimes get the strangest jobs???? When we get into advertising as a copywriter we think, of course, Writing Ads!! TV, Print, Radio, whatever. But, as I'm sure many of you have experienced, sometimes the strangest jobs somehow find their way to our desks. Such as:
-Diplomas
-Business Cards
-Souvenir listing
-Manuals
-Even proofing endless insurance policies few people read
Which brings me to the following scenario:
AE: Hey whaaat's happenin'. Can you do this for me RUSHHHHH!!
CW: What is it
AE: Well it's sort of a personal task Bob the client wants from the agency... You see Bob's wife is 9 months pregnant and the baby's due on monday. It's a boy and, well, we want you to write at least 10 possible names suitable for his future little bundle of joy.
CW: What the $#^$&!! You're Kidding me! Can't he name his own kid! Why did he wait until now!
AE: You know they're both busy people.
CW: What kind of person hires a copywriter to name a baby.
AE: Well remember this is a full service agency, and besides it's easy, just write down 10 friggin' names.
The Copywriter writes down 10 baby names and the following day the job comes back.
AE: Bob didn't like the names I was wondering if you colud come up with a few more options. He wants a unique name you know. Something like Apple or Preston.
CW: You mean like a celebrity.
AE: Well yeah, you are a creative aren't ya'. Write creative names.
The Copywriter proceeds to write 10 more "creative" names. And the following the day the job bounces back.
AE: Hey! Bob thinks the names are too wacky.
CW: I wrote down the two names you gave me and other celebrity-like names as you stated on the job.
AE: I know but come on, write a few more options and make em' creative, but not wacky please!!
CW: You're using his words. You know the names I wrote are not "wacky"
AE: Ok, I know the guy's kind of indecisive but you've made some nice slogans he's liked before. Think of this as just another slogan.
CW: Really, how's the kid gonna feel when he's grown up and finds out a copywriter named him.
AE: Remember we're agents and everything we do represents the client.
CW: Yeah whatever
The Copywriter writes a few more options and the following day, the job comes back.
AE: He likes Antonio but thinks it's a little too ethnic.
CW: Well how bout Anthony.
AE: I told him that but Anthony is not "creative" enough.
CW: Any other name he liked...
AE: He might lean towards Jean Paul but thinks it needs a middle name
CW: Paul's the friggin' middle name
AE: I know but this is what the client wants. Just write clever middle names that go with Jean Paul.
The Copywriter writes a bunch of options for middle names and on Monday the AE comes back.
CW: So, he like any of the options
AE: Well, he read the names for a couple of minutes...
But he just stuck with BOB JR.
He's gonna now need some copy so he can send a love letter to his wife!
Coliman
Jun 1, 2006
The word for today is APATHY
Fuck motivation, screw teamwork and to hell with camaraderie. Apathy. That’s the word, phrase or feeling of the day. There is no I in team, there is no hip-hip hooray, there’s only that dull drone humming in your ear as you mechanically do your work. You’re not slaving away, you are going from point A to point B in the least amount of time with the least amount of subjective input possible.
You have attempted to make work fun, engaging, thrilling, and challenging, but the only true genuine challenge is not caring and just doing your job to keep your paycheck another half month or so. You sigh deeply and acquiesce to all that is demanded of you, you cease to offer your interested opinion and you really couldn’t care less if your client hits rock bottom. One change too many and yet another “I’m not going to take your observation into consideration even if I fuck the artwork, just make it work how I want it to, even if it doesn’t work” you have to swallow because someone really, really, REALLY doesn’t give a shit who you are, what you think or what you can bring to the table.
You don’t matter, and due to this, you stop caring about your work or what it means in the big scale of all things advertising related. You could give two fucks if you did a shitty artwork as long as it doesn’t have a typo and in all reality, if the wobbler is legible or not is the only thing important. Screw being engaging, effective, quirky, clever or memorable. Some clients don’t want that, and hell why should they? It’s not like they spend millions in advertising, it’s not like it can make a difference and it’s not like they should care if it could.
Do your job, do as your told, do this rush, do, do, do, do… but DON’T question why. Don’t dare ask how you can make something better, just make it. Don’t wonder where it could work best, it doesn’t matter. Don’t care who sees it, they don’t. And don’t care why you did it. You just did it. Good job, here’s a cookie and a pat in the back, end of story good night gracie, see ya sayonara and don’t let the door hit your ass on your way out.
Who gives a shit if you have an advertisement with way too much information. Your job is to make it fit. I need you to find the person that can read enough content to mouth off four pages in 20 seconds because the other ten are going to be for the sponsors of course. Fuck entertaining and engaging the audience. Desist from trying to write everything clearly so people can get the information they need. Do you really think people will read or listen to this? Do you think we care? Awww, poor naïve little copywriter. When will you learn? Creatives don’t have what it takes to make real decisions and even if you could, it’s not like we’ll ever let that happen. So be a good monkey and we’ll give you money. Shave twice a week, never bring torn jeans, keep a clean desk and always hand in your time sheets and you’ll keep making money ma’ boy. You’ll make it big and long and hard. You’ll go places, or at least we’ll tell you all about those places we’re supposedly going to take you to and you won’t ever have to worry about being the best you can be, because hell, who gives a shit.
Face it, some days, I’m sure everyone who has read this blog has felt this way.
You have attempted to make work fun, engaging, thrilling, and challenging, but the only true genuine challenge is not caring and just doing your job to keep your paycheck another half month or so. You sigh deeply and acquiesce to all that is demanded of you, you cease to offer your interested opinion and you really couldn’t care less if your client hits rock bottom. One change too many and yet another “I’m not going to take your observation into consideration even if I fuck the artwork, just make it work how I want it to, even if it doesn’t work” you have to swallow because someone really, really, REALLY doesn’t give a shit who you are, what you think or what you can bring to the table.
You don’t matter, and due to this, you stop caring about your work or what it means in the big scale of all things advertising related. You could give two fucks if you did a shitty artwork as long as it doesn’t have a typo and in all reality, if the wobbler is legible or not is the only thing important. Screw being engaging, effective, quirky, clever or memorable. Some clients don’t want that, and hell why should they? It’s not like they spend millions in advertising, it’s not like it can make a difference and it’s not like they should care if it could.
Do your job, do as your told, do this rush, do, do, do, do… but DON’T question why. Don’t dare ask how you can make something better, just make it. Don’t wonder where it could work best, it doesn’t matter. Don’t care who sees it, they don’t. And don’t care why you did it. You just did it. Good job, here’s a cookie and a pat in the back, end of story good night gracie, see ya sayonara and don’t let the door hit your ass on your way out.
Who gives a shit if you have an advertisement with way too much information. Your job is to make it fit. I need you to find the person that can read enough content to mouth off four pages in 20 seconds because the other ten are going to be for the sponsors of course. Fuck entertaining and engaging the audience. Desist from trying to write everything clearly so people can get the information they need. Do you really think people will read or listen to this? Do you think we care? Awww, poor naïve little copywriter. When will you learn? Creatives don’t have what it takes to make real decisions and even if you could, it’s not like we’ll ever let that happen. So be a good monkey and we’ll give you money. Shave twice a week, never bring torn jeans, keep a clean desk and always hand in your time sheets and you’ll keep making money ma’ boy. You’ll make it big and long and hard. You’ll go places, or at least we’ll tell you all about those places we’re supposedly going to take you to and you won’t ever have to worry about being the best you can be, because hell, who gives a shit.
Face it, some days, I’m sure everyone who has read this blog has felt this way.
Boobs can save your Life?
An anonymous poster has sent in this... um... report. Well, here at WAS we believe that we have to help out or fellow kind with any and every resource we get our hands on. So, for those of you out there who feel kind of sick, by all means, watch some boobs. But please, report back and tell us if it works.
Duh. It always works. You're men, dammit.
Duh. It always works. You're men, dammit.
Go to Wrightoff. Now
Way to funny! Go to the link provided and relive one of your worst fears. People who think you can do magic with Photoshop.
But please, don't stop there. Read the post below, "Death by a thousand Cuts". Man, this sure is the perfect post about what else, but your average day at the ad agency.
But please, don't stop there. Read the post below, "Death by a thousand Cuts". Man, this sure is the perfect post about what else, but your average day at the ad agency.
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