A Handjob Teacher, maybe? ROFL.

Don't Even Reply.com is BRILLIANT.

Click on the name of the post. They'll do the rest...

They go up to eleven, one more time: Spinal Tap Returns

They took it to my favorite volume setting. They are brilliant. They are confused. They are back! SPINAL TAP! Check them out on Jimmy Fallon.



And of course, my favorite ST song...

Samurai Sellers: Vince Shamwow Offer

Fifth and final member of the Five deadliest Samurai sellers that make my finger twitch at the thought of buying things I don't need, our own Slap Chopping hooker hater, Vince "Offer" Shlomi.



To balance out the likes of Poppa Ronco, Master Tony, Jay Kordich and our dearly departed Billy Mays, in comes the new school of selling gurus. I use the term new school loosely because even though Vince looks like The love Child of Zack Morris and Beavis (with more than a hint of Steve Buschemi) and looks to be aged in his early thirties, he's actually forty five and please don't let the accent fool you, he's from Israel.

"What?"

EXACTLY. That's how good a salesman he is that if not for wikipedia, IMDB and other would-be reliable sources, we'd think he were some schmuck from Jersey with a knack for selling shit and coming up with rhymes just for the sake of finishing a sentence (Think Scott Weiland without the musical talent and with an innate desire to sell towels and silly cutting machines).

Fast talking, nonsense spewing glory awaits everytime you see this guy with a headset on and just like Billy Mays, his assortment of attainable crap is just there begging for you to purchase. Hell it's only $20... what can it hurt? That's the beauty of sellers like Billy, Chef Tony and Shlomi. They make you think wasting (I mean spending) $20-$30 isn't a big deal.

What sets Vin apart from the rest is that one of his products took one of Billy Mays weaker products and made it work. Sorry but Zorbies is a shitty name and a shitty product with a name more appropriate for a Greek family restaurant or a Turkish bath house than a super absorbent towel and comparisons show that Germans do make a better product (how he got THAT selling point to work, beats me). The other product came from his prowess in spanking and slapping bitches around and the application of said method in the kitchen.

Couple that setup with his fast talking Double deuce scamming tongue, and the recipe is for success in his bank account and failure in your credit card balance. As if this weren't enough, his tags are so lame and ridiculous that you can't help but remember them.

"This product is German and you know that Germans make good products."

OK, let me ask you this: apart from cars, what German products do you see abound? Exactly.

"We're going to help America lose weight, one chop at a time."

So chopping naturally breeds thinner people? Somehow the logic slips me and though I can actually consider the Slap Chop a pretty decent addition to a kitchen, I don't exactly consider it life altering, but maybe I haven't sipped the German Kool Aid.

Couple this with the fact that both his infommercials together don't add up to ten minutes yet he's sold millions of units, and you see why Shlomi is a Samurai Seller.


Cue video evidence:





Marquis Products:

The Shamwow & Slap Chop

Skills:

- Convincing you to buy his product and besmirch the competition (I've seen this 3 times)
- Slapping and Chopping, or just slapping if the item in question is a tongue biting prostitute
- Hiding 10 years of his age beneath makeup.

Weapon of Choice:
- Hypnotic sale inducing Headset

Strengths:

- Downwards arm movement
- Parsel Tongue

Weaknesses:

- Young women who charge for sex, and their warm mouths that tempt him
- Slapping it one too many times

Special maneuvres:

- The Shlomi Blowmi slap
- The Martini Bikini Cheese Twist (watch the video)
- The nut Muncher

Likes:

- Showing you his nuts (watch the video... I can't believe he got away with that one)
- Young hookers
- Slap chopping

Hates:

- Canniballistic hookers
- Dicing

Fears:

- Lockjaw kisses
- The discovery of his past as an Israeli snake oil salesman

Owns:

- Stock in Miami brothels
- A jump house made of Shamwows


Summary:

Like him or hate him, he does grab you by the balls (ovaries) and really makes you consider buying his products, be they shitty or not. The point is that this faux thirty year old can sell... and he can sell a lot... and not only that, but he DIRECTLY vested a product of Father Mays. If that's not enough to accept him among the elite, I don't know what is.


And if THAT weren't enough, tell me you don't want to shake your slap chopping ass to this beat:



Click the title of this post to go to the website where you can download it.

Costco's Bed Memory Foam: A dream come true?

Here's the deal. A couple of months ago my sweetie and I stayed at a cool apartment down by the beach. It had a bed that can only be described as velvet chocolate. Yeah. I mean, you can melt away there. Honestly. We had the best sleep of our lives there. We came back rested and feeling wonderful. Yes, the nice view helped, the sound of the ocean sure was nice... but that bed, oh... that bed.

Anyway, we came back talking about buying an expensive bed. Should we or shouldn't we? Damn. A good bed costs a shitload. Should we buy it before we decide on what house to move? Should we save up and leave the new bed for the new house? Suddenly a pseudo easy decision on buying a bed becomes an adventure.

Cut to one wonderful weekend. We're at Costco. The place that makes Walgreens look like it has a smaller penis. If you buy unnecessary shit there, imagine what you do at Costco. I have bought myself a iRobot to mop the house, for God's sake. So we're talking and shopping for things we definitively don't need and suddenly we come up to one strange memory foam.

"It does wonders for your sleep!", it claims. Price tag? Around 150 bucks. Hm. This can make do until we move and get a bigger house...

DUDES AND DUDETTES OUT THERE. Drive to Costco. GET THAT SHIT NOW. It's like good imitation velvet chocolate. Not the real thing, but damn close. For a reasonable amount of money you can "pretend" that you have a $1,000 bed!

This shit can make you go fast asleep than any other sleeping pill. I for one woke up hundreds of times during the night and since I got this amazing piece of... foam? I am sleeping hard core. Dreams every night hard core. REM hard core. I bet that someone can shoot someone right next to me while I'm fast asleep and I won't even notice.

So there, if you are longing for an expensive bed but you'd rather spend it traveling or doing something else... Costco is the place to go.

Sweet Dreams! Me.

A week sans Soda: The End.

As you all know, I attempted to drink just water for a whole week. The rules were simple. Nothing could not be consumed that was not water in any shape or form. No Juices, Milk, sodas, energy drinks, beer, wine... Jesus the list can go and on.

Here's my final report:

1) Did I feel any healthier?
No. Honestly. I felt exactly the same. The only effect this could have happened is that now I am more thirsty. I am drinking more water than usual. I also can actually give a shit if my Diet Coke supply is running low. My skin is another matter. It looks better than ever, trust me. It is more soft and pink. And trust me, I spend a fortune on face creams so I know it is all about the water...

2) How did it feel?
At first, easy breezy. Then... it got just boring. I have to say that I didn't suffer at all, didn't look at a soda or a juice and go berzerker wanting a sip. I did miss milk a lot.

3) Would I recommend this experiment?
Yes. In a second. It changes your drinking habits a bit. Now you suddenly think water when you are going out to eat instead of the usual Diet Something.

4) How much did I last?
I think it made it to 8 days. One day I said fuck it, I'm bored, and drank Diet Coke. At first it tasted a bit harsh, but then it just seemed usual. Now, I have not sipped anything sugary: Coke, Pepsi, Red Bull. I am still trying not to taste that until at least two weeks more. Let's see what happens after that.

So, there's that. Water is cool but boring. That's why God invented all other liquids. If you have any other interesting ideas let me know, I'll see if I can crack them.

Much love; from the now not so watery Me.

Connected... imagine that

Well today I was off from work and since I had the delight of being awake since 7:30 with the phone call, neighbor construction, dog bark trifecta, I guess it's the perfect setting to get inspired or something. Part of what I did during the day was a blog run which has been pretty hard to get to for the last couple of weeks. Hell even now on a free day, I didn'n't nearly catch up with everyone I intended to catch up with. Reading paragraph after paragraph and post after post, it doesn't necessarilly dawn on me, but I'm reminded that as people who regularly write in one or more blogs, we are in fact scrap booking our thoughts onto virtual space. Any and every quirky little thing that comes into our brain needs to be posted and the need to be loved, hated or found intelligent, funny or amusing is there for all of us.

Even though we might deny it, we all want to take over the world with our little blogs that could. Every single comment is a reason to smile because we were able to connect with someone else, be it from another city, another town, another state, another country or another hemisphere. We all look forward to shared inspiration and while some people insist on updating their facebook status fifty times a day or twittering like there's no tomorrow, we of the blogging kind (yes including those that more than occassionally twitter) are brought together by comments, posts, thumbs up, diggs etc. We are forming a subculture that is probably being studied right now and will be reported and analyzed in text books in the next 3 years, if not less.

We offer opinions about music, movies, cars, current events, food, products, technology, and entertainment on all levels. Our own slice of life is the product we want to sell and though it might seem like a couple of trifle clicks to huge companies looking to be in the know, the fact that twenty or thirty people can relate to a message you have share is an endearingly powerful and addictive drug. To know that you made someone in Germany or India laugh, or that you made a New Zealand gangster ponder the existential relevance of Coca Cola spiked with Nerds is extremely empowering, because even if it's only one person, the ability to touch one person and contribute to their lives is something that just can't be bought. Either someone reads, watches, or listens and relates, and you just can't fabricate the community we promote. Sure, you can try making a blog about how someone love's to eat this candybar or drive that car, but it doesn't take long at all to see that such an attempt is fake at best.

Generation X is often labeled as despondent and hard to get to and such a statement is true if you don't understand what makes X tick. Generation Y is also labeled as unreachable to many brands and the problem is not in the generation, but in the thought process that goes behind trying to connect with people nowadays. Big corporations simply don't seem to understand that past methods simply don't and won't work. Well maybe they do, but from their attempts, you can easily see that they're clearly often thinking in mid-eighties theorems and just don't want to try and get today's consumers.

What does this have to do with blogging? All or nothing, you be the judge. But I do believe that many succesful things nowadays do actually have a stream of thought approach to them and a highly maleable sense of style. What won't change is that people for the most part want to be a part of a community, what has changed is that people want to be part of a larger group though maintaining their own would-be identity. Standing out through sheer excellence is still lauded, but standing out for just being different has or had become the norm. I say had because people are becoming so extreme in what they do that they are quickly running into homogeniety through their behavior. A pattern emerges, as it usually does and trends pop in and out according to theory. The difference nowadays is something I hinted at the other day. Permanence is something completely arbitrary and the illusion or goal for the eternal is every day more distant. Yet we all keep writing our thoughts in the hopes that something we say is a lot more permanent than any fashion style you could think of.

The beauty of it all is that our thoughts are recorded in these online text time capsules that we hope someone will open one day. We hope that what we have to say or at least part of it will mean something to someone in a few years' time though we much rather have permanence last a couple of decades before being forgotten.

You sit and read and can't help but think of the wonderful things people share, be it life experiences, personal triumphs, a growing family, a secret, a funny rant or something that flicks something in your brain and begs you to ask yourself just how what you're reading isn't being read by more people. You look at adverts and the New York Times best sellers list and wonder why some of the worthwhile things you read on a daily basis is lost to millions while crap that would serve best as kindling rakes in the money. You read magazine reviews and Rotten Tomato Aggregates and they pale in comparison to what you can read on some blogs with people like you that know how to write and share their thoughts and have their thumb, not on america's pulse, but yours.

We all read endless posts and rants from people who we'd love to share a beer with. Regardless of age, ethnicity, religion, gender or socio-economic status, the fact that we're entitled to opinions and that we can share them with people that might or might not relate makes it all worthwhile. How many hours do we spend looking for random things to post. How many posts have we written? How long do these posts take? For my part, this is the fourth year writing in this blog and I don't see myself writing any less. I see my posts, and supposed mini series taking different spins and going in different directions just to keep myself and anyone else interested in my crazy shit amused. From boxing reports, to music reviews, from little quirky one line shreds of knowledge to three page cuss filled rants. It's all part of expression in the name of connection and I'm grateful for every wonderful post I've read and every person who has been kind enough to comment on this teenie blog, link us up, and been in contact via email. It's surreal to be able to chat with people from Texas, Canada, Australia, India, Romania, St. Louis, Colorado, Washington State and everything in between. It's humbling because though this is a tiny blog, some people have found us worthy to be read, thought about, discussed and shared, and unlike webhits and dollars and noncents, it makes all the difference to us, because we're connected and you care, if only a little bit. So thank you, for reading, for writing, for linking and for connecting.

Cheers

There’s always that one person who…

• … cannot stop talking about how awesome her kids are

• … has always outdone you. If you ran a mile this morning, he ran five; if you went on an NYC getaway, he spent the summer in Europe

• … brings on the negativity. Life sucks. Work sucks. Good restaurants are never good enough. Entertainment is never entertaining enough. That 5,000 square-foot ocean-front penthouse you own? That sucks too. It’s like your very own Debbie Downer from Saturday Night Live

• … is a professional complainer. She complains about how much work she’s got (but never actually gets around to doing it); complains about how hard she’s working – weekends, late hours, etc.; complains about the clients; complains about how much the agency sucks; complains about the bosses; complains about suppliers

• … considers himself quite the intellectual and is not afraid to show it off. You like Adam Sandler flicks? He only watches foreign films. In fact, any movie you like, he’s read the book original and rubs its superiority in your face

• … knows what everyone is thinking. Even though she is a married, 50ish, wealthy white female with a European aristocratic background, when it comes to marketing, she knows what single black lower-class males want from their marketing communications. Never mind the research, she just knows what people like and how to sell it to them

• … comes into the office at 10:30 a.m.; at 11:30 starts making lunch plans with her cronies; is off to lunch at 12:30; arrives from lunch at 2:45 p.m.; needs a coffee break at 3:00; starts working on the first job of the day at 4:30; is pissed off because it’s 7:00 p.m. and doesn’t yet understand why it’s going to be a long night at the office again. And let’s not get into the numerous 15-minute smoking breaks

• …is chronically ill. She’s always taking some form of medication; she never puts in a full 8-hour day because she’s always got a medical appointment; she’s always complaining about how this hurts or that aches; how the weather is wreaking havoc on her allergies. She’s got a serious case of Woody Allen Hypochondriac Syndrome.

Broken Saints - Live Action

Broken Saints Live Action Trailer from Randy Che on Vimeo.

I'm not sure if you've seen the animated series, but if you haven't, you're missing out. Turns out this masterpiece is being brought to live action and though I worry at the thought of it being a miniseries, my initial reaction to the visuals is simply to smile.

Cheers

Losties, Rejoice.

Star Wars Geeks, Rejoice.

Now, THIS is Internet Marketing at its best: Lost University

Smells like sushi and a movie: No impact Man

Samurai Sellers: The Juice Man, Jay Kordich

The number 4 is a very special number for me. It represents so many things and it keeps coming up in my life that I just can't ignore it. So you know that the fourth samurai seller had to be something special... and to be honest, it's pretty hard to get more special than Jay Kordich.




He might not have the portfolio of some of the other selling masters, but what he does have is the sheer mastery of the spoken word. Well that and some of the snazziest set of eyebrows this side of a lush cotton field. Master Juice is a phenom of the advertising world in the sense that he started selling millions of units when he had already become eligible for Medicare. Twenty years later, the juice is still strong, the juice is still good and the juice is still flowing.

Who else do you know that could convince you that parsley could make you high? Well apart from an ignorant ninth grader that insists his pizza smelling oregajoints can actually give you a buzz. Jay Kordich is simply a joy to watch in the infomercial arena because you know he could have been a religious zealot, a politician or a tiki love god, but the path he chose was that of the juice. Pretty much the statement is that anything you can eat, you can drink... as long as it's vegetable or fruit, because though you can juice a steak, something tells me a ribeye smoothie will not agree with anyone's stomach. And though you can make a case that Jay is actually a Juicinator 1000 or has a rotting picture hidden somewhere dark and secluded, the fact is that he's alive and well and doing more activities than your average Thirty year old

Vampires insist that blood is the secret to eternal life, but Jay Kordich is putting these queer blood suckers to shame by living an active almost 90 year old lifestyle and still tanning and bleaching enough to look like a Papa Oompa Loompa or some Beta Carrot Demon hellbent on conquering the world, one juice at a time. This man survived cancer, has lived three lifetimes and injested enough fresh juice to make Poppa Mott's sad that he couldn't sell the fruit in the raw to this V8 speedster.


Video Evidence:



Marquis Products:

All encarnations of the Juice Man

Skills:

- Knowing more about potions than your local shamman.
- Juice Alchemy where any solid thing you find can be magically turned into a liquid panacea.
- Warming lost children with his eyebrows.

Weapon of Choice:

Eyebrow uppercut and natures own juicer, his bare hands.

Strengths:

- More stamina than a Kenyan marathon runner.
- Can lift two metric tons with either eyebrow.
- Speeks human parcel tongue where he lulls you into joining a cult that juices their own brand of Kool-Aid

Weaknesses:

- Needs juice to activate super powers.
- Fears solid foods.
- Needs sunlight since he's drunk enough juice to survive partially by photosynthesis.

Special maneuvres:

- The Colonic Wet Squat Kick
- The Groin Juice Claw
- The Gnarly Parsely Blumpkin Squash

Likes:

- Juice.
- Smoothies.
- Frappes.

Hates:

- Solids
- Food that needs a fork to ingest.

Fears:

- Being frozen solid.
- Being juiced by his followers to assimilate his eternal essence.

Owns:

- Juice Bar.
- Juicy Eyebrows.


Summary:

The Fountain of life flows with nutrients and antioxidants and Jay Kordich is The Willy Wonka of his fruit factory. Jump on the Juice boat and go down the path that is wet, smooth and nutritious.

BONUS: Jim Carrey doing the Juice proud.

Wanna be startin' something?

For another angle and the full video, click at the name of the post.

Fortune Cookie 500 #'s 291-295

On frustration

The fire of complacency is often fueled by frustration and fear of the unknown.


On an "honest" job

Most days you feel as if a company robs you of life and energy, but sometimes you are the one doing the robbing.


On possessions

Funny that we become so obsessed over what we can or do posess.


On time

Everything can seem funny if enough time passes.


On friends

Friendship shall always be defined on a quality versus quantity scale.

The Law of Minimum Effort

In the bullshit cubicle jungle most of us work in, there are rules, there are axioms, there are mores and there are laws.

Like it or not, every single job you work in will have a set of rules and regulations, of benchmarks and expectations that will define what you are capable of achieving. The funny part is that often times, you see these laws repeat from one job to the next. As with Restriction's Law of Marginal Contribution, you can't possibly expect that to be exclusive to advertising... and it's just because it isn't.

Though there are many things that differentiate us, mediocrity in all its forms is something that definitely binds us... and so goes the Law of Minimum Effort.

- For every effort there is a lack of effort in response. -

You're a big boy or girl. You know what you have to do to get shit done, but no worries. For every responsible human being on this Earth, there are at least 6-9 hacks that insist on disrupting the balance of productivity. You can try all you want. You could even use FBI taps and Homeland Security information to get all the information you need about where you are going to work. Go ahead, hack into company files, and do your best to come into a department that apparently has its shit together... even if it DOES exist... you'll unfortunately have to eventually work on something produced by one mean piece of mediocrity. I'm talking people who are so lazy that they probably don't finish jerking off because their forearm is sore citing their worry of carpel tunnel to stop the jacking. I'm talking people who are happy to be in traction so someone can feed them and wipe their ass for them. I'm talking of hacks that truly are proud offspring of C students.

There is simply no way on this Earth you will not come in contact with a half ass if you work in a white collar environment. It's just basic logic that produces people that do not put out as much as they take. Hacks do not rule the Earth but they sure do permeate the poor soil. From cars to healthcare, from processed foods to sex toys, a hack is only a task, job or email away. Someone who lacks the foresight to offer information that is vital for a task, job or even favor they ask of you and that is the way it will always be, simply because talking in percentages, there is no way the human race can completely eradicate douche bags. In fact, it seems as if mediocrity is demanded and rewarded if you pucker up enough.

Thing is that while one cleans up the shit storm, these assholes have the gall and nerve to critique one's tactics when fucking saving their ass. Trust me, I KNOW this sounds like a worker bee vent who doesn't understand the macro system, but after analyzing where I'm coming from, nothing could be farther from the truth.

Let us analyze.

My complaint can be summed up as: I could do work more efficiently (i.e. quicker, better, and with less revisions) if a person (i.e. supah douche) gave me X or Y information and didn't need 3 emails for me to finally get what I need to get shit done. When you look at the big picture, a peon (AKA me) needs information to do X (AKA shit job) for master douche (aka, the person who "requested" a task done). This person is actually available so I will give them brownie (and not the ass kind) points in their favor, but their initial task was done so poorly that I have to invest a total of about 18 hours just to make sense of the almost 300 page shit storm they sent me to rehabilitate. Information is missing, format is non existent and this could be easier on at least 4 levels. The peon takes up the allotted time to perform the task at hand, and the supah douche finds something wrong with the document, for instance, there's some information missing, and the format is kind of weird... if it had been MY gumption that concocted this document from hell, then fine; I fess up to it, admit the blame and get my shit together... I'm actually QUITE capable of admitting my fuckups and have done so in the past. But I DIDN'T fuck up. I simply responded to what I was given and did the best I could and then some. I did NOT apply the law of minimum effort yet the beast bit me in the ass... Which begs the question, if little to no effort = success, does extra effort = stagnation?

Shit to ponder.....

Regardless of my mood though...

Cheers...

Fucked up days

If you've had enough jobs, worked long enough at any job or just plain got stuck with some irrational bid for paid slavery, you have had at least one day when you feel like Shaq just used you as a muppet for about three hours straight. Ass burning aside, this feeling is simply the result of a latrine bottom day. You see, there are stupid days, idiotic days, annoying days and yes, shitty days, we've all had em... but then there aer these psychic fist fuck days where you can't help but urge the clock to go faster. Days when shit goes wrong, people get stupid and you clean up more spilt milk than a jizz mopper. On those days, you really have no choice but to suck it up and go with it and try not to explode.

It's not enough you have a shitty day though, every sniffle, cough or sneeze you produce is met with scared stares or chilly evil gazes seriously considering going Auschwitz on your ass. But I apologize for digressing, that is another post, for another hour of the night.

It just so happens I'm in a shit mood. I'm tired and not "oh I worked my ass off tired", but "oh man, I did a lot of desk work" tired. This type of tiredness is doubly idiotic because physically you recognize you shouldn't be as sapped and tired as you are, but when you pick up a free weight and your whole limbic system overrides that command so you pick up a beer, ahhh... therein lies the beauty of the type of day reserved for people who have enough time and the resources to bitch on a blog.

The problem doesn't lie in the nature of one's frustration and exhaustion, it's the reason for it. The reality is that I worked another eleven hour day and did my part to push forth the machine. That's the fact, the tangible factors of the equation. The intangible factors of the equation center on the asshole who half assed something so I could pretty much do the grunt AKA BITCH work. And in those last two words is the root of the problem.

One tends to become emotionally drained when they know someone could have done a lot of something extra to help whatever the hell you're doing get produced faster. But that didn't fucking happen, did it? No... Some fuck-o decided he'd hitch the easy train while I'd get slammed on the corner of go fuck yourself and you don't matter one fuck. To make things worse, the head person in charge is a major douche. Not some run of the mill douche, but a thorough bred douche. Someone who insists on committing grammatical errors so coarse, crude and disgusting that only a snuff connoisseur could fucking indulge.

EXAMPLES:

Prectic Setion (Practice Section)

Copy raith (Copyright)

THIS is the type of overachieving failed abortion I'm fixing the document for, so you can imagine that it's a bit annoying to say the least when I refer to the "quality" of said document. And yet again I find myself asking how some stupid douche mill (he has surpassed the bag phase) has achieved success and ascension... is it really all ball licking and ass kissing. Are lackeys truly promoted so blindedly? I'm not saying I'm a fucking perfect 10, but based ONLY on communication skills, this guy makes me look like Einstein... and though I could feel flattered, I'm offended for too many reasons to state without sounding like a conceited prick.... I just know I end up going ... what... the f.................. the other three letters get stuck somewhere between my larynx and my wounded pride.

And even in all this would-be stupid melodrama, I still have the comfort of knowing a couple of things...

1.) Tomorrow will be another day

2.) This project won't matter in three week's time

3.) Eventually karma will catch up with this type of person and while they ask why does this happen to me, someone else will be asking how they achieve success.

Thing is I don't wish ill on this guy..... well not completely. I don't want them catching swine flu, pneumonia and the case of the crabs. I just really wish people who are in power (supposed or real) were a little more responsible for the shit that they will be accountable for.

Oh and the fourth thing that comforts me is the sweet beer I'm sipping at the moment. Ah sweet beer. Let me count the ways you make me not care of mediocre butt gnomes that have no right to the use of a computer. How I love thee sweet brew and the distilled apathy I'm able to ingest in the momentary lapse of "I don't give a shit".

May the tides rise and douches fall. Cheers to me, and cheers to anyone that might have chanced on this random what the fuck vent.

Cheers once again

Trust me, if you think you are a Potter fan... you're not like this chick.

A word from the Beastie Boys.

The Law of Marginal Contribution

So you’ve spent all night working on that killer ad. You were given as little information as possible and you still came up with a brilliant piece. Pure genius! You present it to your crew and they love it. You show it to your team of AEs and – shit! – they like it too! You head over to your VPs office and… the bitch has one comment. “Why not change this color to that, to make it pop out more?” She may also say something like “Wouldn’t it be better if this word were in bold?”

That’s the Law of Marginal Contribution. There’s always an idiot who feels the need to make that one stupid comment that ruins it all. It’s almost always a dumb comment that makes absolutely no difference to the quality of the ad, but it gives her the sense that she did something – in the capacity of Queen Bitch – to make the ad “better”. Oh yeah, putting that word in bold is really going to improve client sales by 20%. It’s almost always a case of You say tomay-to, I say tomah-to.

Whatever!

This trailer got me pregnant.

A True What the Fuck Moment.

Um... Really? Just click on the name of the post to go "Holy Shit!"

The Sans Soda Experiment: First Findings.

It's been almost three days. I have to say that I was "training" for the experiment before Friday, so already I have noticed a few things. I will report back at the end of the week to see what happens next.

So, the first impressions are:

1) This thing is more easier than you think. Keeping off sodas for me has been a simple task to do.

2) I have no craving whatsoever for anything soda. Milk is another story. Damn I miss that sweet cow juice.

3) On Saturday I attempted my first "slurp" of Diet Coke. Just one. Tasted like shit. Extremely acid, bubbles were extremely powerful. I also got a metallic taste that I have never gotten before. I got worried that I might not like to drink it after the experiment.

The only thing about the experiment is, I have been mixing the water with different flavors, so I have to achieve a couple of days without any Crystal Light to see if I can actually make it with water alone. I'll keep you posted.

PS: I might have to cut this experiment short since I'm kind of sick (I believe that I have a stomach ulcer). If my doc lets me continue tomorrow - what doctor will tell me that a week of water is a bad idea? - I'll keep this thing up.

Much love, the Aquatic Me.

The WAS Music Festival! Paul McCartney!

My dear friend David Letterman showed that he is king. He had Sir Paul play on his marquee. Talk about balls. Big balls. Bravo Dave. Enjoy the mini concert.

A week Sans Soda: An experiment.

I've heard it over and over again. Diet Soda has a shitload of sodium. Diet Soda can cause cancer. Diet Soda can make you bloated, crave sugar or just kill you. Diet Soda is made in hell. Ok, ok. I'm exaggerating. I've just read time and time again that it's just not that "healthy". So, I'm doing an exercise. I'm quitting any type of sodas for a week. I'm not aiming for a month because... come on, that seems like amazingly difficult. They have people on Methadone for a reason. You can't quit everything cold turkey. You have to start little by little.

So here's the deal. I'm starting tomorrow, Friday. I am not allowed to get near anything remotely similar to Diet Coke, Diet Pepsi, Sugar Free Red Bull or any other crap that have some kind of unnatural bubbles. I am only allowed to drink Crystal Light or water.

I am also not allowed any juices, milk or even anything Gatorade-ish. Just water with some kind of flavor or none at all.

Why am I doing is? One is because I am trying to prove that I need to drink more water and that I believe that sans soda living will make me feel healthier. So, if after a week I am not killing myself from the Caffeine withdrawal, I will add another week until I reach a full month.

The final experiment will be? Tasting a Diet Coke after a month of not touching it. I wanna see what happens to my taste buds. (If you ever have quit smoking and you suddenly take one after a long time without doing it, you will know what I mean)

So, wish me luck. Now, a word to my favorite soda. Diet Coke.

Hey my sweet darling. I will miss you. I won't cry. I won't. I will try to remember all the good times with you. Maybe I'll come back, maybe our love is bigger than health. Maybe I'll come crawling back to you, crying my ass off. Who knows. Just... think of me, my lovely Diet Coke. I will think of you. Bye...

Fuck, this is real?

The Huffington Post has the funniest, em... uh... Post, ever. It's called 9 Stupidest Products of all time. I borrowed some because, honestly... WHAT THE FUCK?

Let's start with the Tittie Bear. I mean, the Tiddy Bear.



Who are they kidding? This is a bear for tits, for God's sake! Just say it!

Then... can someone tell me if they actually saw this piece of disturbing crap on tv?



Or this?



Click at the name of the post for all the videos... Enjoy!

Superwoman and Wonder Woman work at my office

There are only 10 of us at our office, but apparently all we really need are two people. These two ladies – your typical, power-hungry, twice-divorced, overachieving, no-life-having, always-dieting, hyper corporate personalities – take being a Mrs. Know-It-All to a whole new level. These ladies are Senior VP Executives, of course, and manage to get involved in EVERYTHING, from day-to-day press clippings and preproduction and traffic, to budget analysis, corporate strategy and – wait for it – creative.

The irony is that these are the very people who rant all day about the importance of teamwork, yet can’t help but take over every process and run things on their own. Their ego is so powerful that they can’t trust the work and commitment of their peers and feel that when things need to be done right, they have to do it themselves. By hogging all the space (and taking all the credit, of course), no one is given a chance to do their thing and shine.

I really don’t give a shit, but I do feel sorry for my colleagues. They’re a very talented bunch and I respect them all. It hurts me to see their frustration when having to deal with these power mongers.

Some extra Flu info

After seeing Me's post I decided to offer my two cents. I may not be a doctor, but since I work at a healthcare company, I've had to stay way updated with this topic but have found it more interesting to write about other topics. So I'll offer my two cents and any question you may have regarding the H1N1 virus, feel free to ask away.

First off, the situation.

If you've been hiding under a rock, this need not apply to you because odds are you won't be infected and I wouldn't even begin to understand at to how you have access to a computer. BS aside, the situation is this, a new flu strain has developed and atypically for flu strains became apparent and escalated to pandemic levels in less than four months. This new strain is a combination of avian, human and swine flus but since they first discovered this thinking the culprit was a pig farm in Mexico, well the pig got the blame.

What does this mean?

Simple. You can't get swine flu from eating pork products and unless you frequent infected pigs, which seems highly unlikely at this phase, barring people who like to take it home to the bacon, you won't get infected from interacting with Babe, the cute pig from Charlotte's web or your resident Porky.

Have many people been infected by the swine flu?

Yes. By now there have been at least (INSERT NUMBER) confirmed and (INSERT NUMBER) suspected cases.

Why are the numbers so different?

Since the strain is new, places that can effectively determine results have been limited and a vaccine is not available.

What do you mean a vaccine is not available? What about TamiFlu?

Tamiflu is prescribed to people as a preventive measure but works best when a person has the flue virus. It lessens the symptoms but does not cure.

So what does that mean?

Tamiflu and the other flu medicine available that is even less effective in curing the strain do serve their purpose, but they are riding high on media hype and low to medium on effectivity. Don't take my word for it, search around.

But can I still take Tamiflu?

If it helps you sleep at night, sure, why not. Just know that for every person that over vaccinates, the strain will only grow stronger.

Where did you come up with that?

It's pure logic relating to flu strains per se. We are not in flu season so that this thing even showed up on the radar is a viral miracle, albeit a shitty one. The real problem will come along when flu season kicks in for various reasons. 1.) People already die from the flu every year. At best, 100,000 kick the bucket because of regular flu every year. 2.) Having a new flu will make determining which kind of flu you have a virtual adventure. 3.) When flu season starts, all hell will break loose. Don't take my word for it, just read the news from all over. The very nature of this pandemic means that it's spreading from person to person, and this is happening when temperatures are soaring and should be high enough to not allow the virus to propagate (that's why most people don't come down with the flu during the summer, it's all migration and temperature here). 4.) Taking meds will always and forever make diseases stronger, more resillient, and more resistant to anything you throw at them. It takes the new information of the antiviral, adds it to the equation and eventually strengthens most times. The only person SURE to benefit from you taking tamiflu are its stock holders. Again, this isn't myth, this isn't speculation. Search around for your own results and you'll find that findings for Tamiflu inspire you to take the medicine about as much a five dollar male hooker with a crystal ball.

Can I die If i get the strain?

Yes. But you can also die from ANY flu strain. All you need is the right conditions and your own body will self destruct.

What do you mean self destruct?

When you get a viral infection (like influenza), your body naturally reacts to it and tries to ward it off. It does this by producing mucous to flush it out and raising body temp enough to either burn it or sweat it out, literally. What's happened with many flu strains is that your body over reacts, promotes a super high fever, and health complications due to this fever can cause a number of adverse reactions that mean you will be weakened, and even more susceptible to another type of infection.

So if I don't get a fever, I'm in the clear?

I didn't say that. Fever is just one of the symptoms. Body ache, coughing, nausea and all the wonderful things typical of a really bad case of the flu are up for grabs in symptoms you can be afflicted with, which means complications arising from those other conditions are just as serious.

Is it safe to travel to Mexico?

Who knows WHERE it is safe to travel. More reports have been found in the US but it could just be a better health system at work or the need to report every single case. I don't know. What I do know is that there have been cases in the US, Mexico, Costa Rica, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, Spain, UK, New Zealand and pretty much anywhere you can point on a globe, hence the name pandemic.

So because there is a pandemic that means a billion people will die?

The reality is that people will die and probably more people will die from flu in general in the next two years than is normally the case. That's what the World Health Organization is expecting, and so should you. But the word pandemic is so very effective at instilling fear, that we forget what it means. A pandemic does not refer to the devastation caused by a specific virus, it refers to the ease with which it propagates. We're at level six out of a possible six, but though the situation is very serious, it isn't supposed to be armageddon.

So what does level 6 pandemic refer to?

It means that the strain has been seen in great numbers in various places and has achieved the unfortunate ability of transmitting from person to person. It doesn't mean it's the deadliest virus in the world and to be honest, we have still to see just what this strain is capable of.

So what can I do to stay healthy?

Pretty logical if you ask any surgeon. Wash your hands.

You mean washing my hands is going to save my life? You expect me to believe that?

Yes. Ask ANY doctor that has worked in this type of situation and they will all agree that higher levels of hygiene will trump ANYTHING a pharmaceutical can produce on short or long notice. Since this virus is spreading via contact with people, hand sanitizers and frequent hand cleansing is the order of the day. If you see someone fluish around the eyes, not to be a total prick, but don't hang out too often with them and if you do, try to keep at least 6 feet distance from yourself if you engage in conversation. Also, when you use hand sanitizer, make sure to use a good amount and rub it in for at least 15 seconds. Otherwise, you're just kidding yourself. If you have flu symptoms, let your supervisor know and honestly consider taking two days off to see if anything develops. Try and use disinfectant wipes in your work area even if you seem Monkish. Also, if you have to sneeze, cover your mouth and try to get sanitizer as fast as possible. The virus is obtained through eye, nose and mouth contact so try to do your best to avoid over touching these spots during work hours.

Where can I go if I want more information, or the real deal?

Me's links are good, especially the www.cdc.gov

You can also check out:
http://www.who.int/csr/disease/swineflu/en/index.html

And online newspapers like the Guardian from the UK, la Vanguardia from Spain and other national papers so you get different takes on the same topic.

Hope this helps, and if you have any question you think I might be able to answers, my email is jokerwashere@gmail.com

Cheers, and may the flu NOT be with you

Say no to the Swine.

In an effort to help people stay alive, here's what I found out. If you are sick, please for the love of God go to a doctor. You don't need to die from Swine Flu. People, this is no joke, there is a new strain of this shit and it's killing people.

Here at WAS we are not doctors but we will do our best to spread the word around. I for one am getting my Tamiflu fix today.

Here are some links so you can read up on this shit:

http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2009/07/08/2003448157

http://www.philly.com/inquirer/health_science/daily/20090714_Swine_flu__more_severe_.html

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203739404574286602600418542.html?mod=googlenews_wsj

http://cdc.gov/h1n1flu/update.htm

WAS Music Festival:

Ladies and Gentlemen!!! The show continues... Now from Dublin Ireland... On the bass guitar: Adam! Drums: Larry! Guitar: Edge! On Vocals and saving the world: Bono!!!

Coming to you via embedded video at WAS... it's... U2!

I close my eyes and hear thunder

In the world of boxing, becoming a belt holder has quickly become immaterial to a certain degree. Sanctioning bodies have done their best to work against a sport I love but in the last year and a half, catch weights and fighters deciding to fight the best and only the best have returned to the scene. Fighters like Manny Pacquiao and Juan Manuel Marquez are fighting the best of the best and beating them. Titles are being ignored and immortality is the gold on everyone's mind.

In a sport that is beautiful in its brutality though, few people made me love boxing more than Arturo 'Thunder' Gatti. He showed the value of resolve, courage, and sheer heart. His defense? Forgettable. His offense? Anything but. Proclaimed as the Blood and Guts champion, Gatti did things almost alien to many of the flashier fighters of the sport: He spoke with his fists much more than he did with his mouth. His idea of showboating was taking brutal punishment only to flash out a perfect left hook that had his opponent wondering who the current president was. He was the type of boxer that makes you appreciate the sweet science just as much as his fights showed what mountains could be climbed out of sheer will.

Was Gatti the greatest boxer in the world? No. Of course not. He was simply one of the greatest boxers to watch. Plain and simple. Hittable, vulnerable and brave to a fault. If ever there was a boxer to always go out on his shield and never on his stool, look no further. He was the guy with the lacking skillset but the tenacity to take five shots to give you one of those perfect left hooks.

In a career that transitioned from the 90's to the 2000's, Gatti fought like it was 1950 and looked the part, having slick hair, suits and a face that wouldn't have been out of place next to the likes of Al Capone.

On May 2002, I was fortunate enough to have my tv on HBO and saw that the card would have a guy named Arturo Gatti face off another guy named Micky Ward. The names were familiar since Micky had already been in fight of the year winners or candidates. SO I thought I was going to see a great fight. I simply had no pre-conception that I was about to watch history in the making and a fight I'd be telling my grand children about. If I had to pick my top five fights in my life off the top of my head, you'd see: Leonard VS Hagler, Marquez VS Pacquiao 1, Trinidad VS Vargas, Marquez VS Diaz, and Gatti VS Ward 1. After I start thinking I remember Foreman VS Ali, Ali VS Frazier 1, Barrera VS Morales 1 and 3, Morales VS Pacquiao 1, Judah VS Cotto, Argueyo VS Pryor, Chavez VS Taylor, Hagler VS Hearns, and countless others. But off the top of my head, those five fights jump out because it was anyone's match until they ended.

Gatti VS Ward 1 has the distinction of being considered fight of the century simply because it was a power punch bonanza and the fact that neither man got knocked out in ANY of the three fights is beyond comprehension, but that first fight... it was something special, and in my room, thousands of miles away, I was a part of that... and I felt special for it.

I've watched the fight in its entirety nine times, the most I've ever watched any fight and I'm still amazed. Much credit also has to go to Frank Cappucino for letting history be made. When people thought the fight had been stopped, you could clearly hear Frank Cappucino say "The fight ain't over". But the sheer grit of both Ward and Gatti are something to behold. In round 4, Gatti connected a low blow that would have made Andrew Golotta proud. After miscommunication, Ward did not get the five minutes a boxer is allowed to recover, the bell rings, he goes to the corner and when asked what to do, he replies by saying, I'm good to go. Gatti for his part took Ward's signature left hook about twenty times too often and finally took a knee. He didn't crumble, he didn't wilt, he just took a knee, beat the 8 count and proceeded to offer up more punishment. I have truly NEVER seen a tug of war battle as fierce as this fight and momentum changed at a dizzying pace.

It's the type of fight I wish I could have shared with my grandfather. In round 9, heralded by many present as the round of the century (although round five is amazing as well), over 100 power punches were connected and how any of the two fighters could continue or even want to continue, is baffling. In a time where some people quit because they broke their hand, or they got hit low, or they're tired, these two men had the audacity to come back for another round and two follow-up fights that cemented their place in boxing history.

Earlier today I found out Arturo Gatti was found dead in brazil.

That sentence alone forced me to almost take a knee. I've felt the urge to cry but haven't. After all, if people could weep over Michael Jackson, I could shed a tear in the name of one of my favorite boxers of all time. But that would be a disservice to one of the fiercest warriors ever to enter a squared circle, so I've held out. I've held out because that's what he would have done. He would have taken it. He would recognize that it hurt. That it hurt a lot and that it could make him go down, but he wouldn't as long as his will and his body could hold out. That's because that's the type of boxer he was. He was a fan favorite because yes he fought for fame and money, but the way he fought was exclusively for the fans and in the world of boxing, we were all champions and had a taste of gold every time he laced his gloves, started to walk to the ring, and we could hear the immortal riff from AC/DC with Brian Johnson calling out his real name. Not the one he was given when he was a baby. Not a nickname from his teens. His real name. His warrior name.

Thunder...

I close my eyes... and in my memories and in my heart, I hear thunder... and I take a knee.


Gatti VS Ward Part 1



Part 2



Part 3



Part 4



Part 5

WAS Playlists #1

Since Me had the brilliant idea of the WAS music festival, I wanted to give my stab at something to add to this.

One video selection

Thirteen songs

Four albums

These shall reflect what I'm in the mood to listen to and things I think most people should check outwith links reflecting my mood or what I'm listening at this moment. The video will be a standout, the tracks will be a variety of artists with links to their youtube vids, and the four albums are all over the place from my collection. Feel free to comment or ask about any particular selection.

Cheers

Video Selection:




Songs:

1. Ray Lamontagne & Damien Rice - To Love somebody

2. Silverchair - Emotion sickness

3. Band of Horses - Act Together (Cover song)

4. Manchester orchestra - I've got friends

5.The Who - Baba O'Reilly

6. Reef - Place your hands

7. Soundgarden - Mailman

8. Filter - Trip like I do

9. James brown - it's a man's world

10. Stone Temple Pilots - Pretty Penny

11. Fear Factory - Zero Signal

12. Alice in chains - rooster

13. Pearl Jam - Given to Fly


Albums:

I. Miles Davis - Kind of Blue

II. Silverchair - Diorama

III. Soda Stereo - Sueño Stereo

IV. Culture - The international Herb

Disposable life

If any industry truly embodies the nature of antipermanence we are not so slowly slipping into, it HAS to be advertising. Today's great big ad is tomorrow's so-what ad. Greatness and permanence are slowly becoming unattainable goals and if you disagree, barring Donny Deutsch, name one ad name that reverberates throughout the ENTIRE world and try to make a case that any layman can have even a slight idea of who they are. If you succeed, well good for you because I'm kind of broke and apart from a post from a topic of your choosing, there's not much I can offer.

But that's besides the point. What I am getting at however is that be it news, movies, music, film or what have you, being relative in the present for more than 7 months is humongous nowadays whereas I honestly believe permanence was something realistically attainable say a decade and a half back. In advertising is where I see this as aggravated as anywhere though in the sense that it's not just ads that are getting facelifts every few weeks. Brands are not respected to a point of sheer lunacy. In the desperate attempt to boost sales, maintain numbers and not cut more jobs, messages are getting mixed and tossed so often that you have to wonder just how poor a brand's image can actually get. Hell even mega corporations like Pepsi have attempted to radically change logos based on some bullshit rationale.

Where is the consistency we were taught would promise better things to come? I think it's gone for now until the market recovers, which we take as a given but we have no real idea when things will get better. That's the thing though. Everything has to happen fast. The economy has to get fixed in a year. I need to pay my car off in less time. I have to do more work, faster even if I suck at it just because I need a goal completed with every flip of the hour hand the physical expression of the father of objectivity, time. True time is relative and is a bullshit concept we try to define, establish and use to measure increments of life, duration, expiration, durability, etc. Days and months blur together and before you know it, half the year is gone and thousands upon thousands of advertisements have gone down the unrevolutionary road of the do do. Money is spent, ads are aired, nothing is achieved except media presence. Permanence becomes less of a priority and more of a nice to have, especially if it's cost efficient and everyone watches it on youtube so I don't have to pay the networks to air it.

Co-workers in this industry are just as disposable (not everywhere, but at least everywhere I worked at). Creatives came and went. You work with single serving creative freelancers. Some agencies even switch Creative Directors every couple of years because if it don't stick, why keep it. Marriages run their course in record time and we die younger while living to older age all at the same time. You have a pain? Take a pill. You have stress? Take a pill. You have problems? Take a pill. If the single solitary act of swallowing something that could actually be hazardous for your health becomes the norm to solve so many of our situations, it's a miracle blowjobs aren't in even higher demand.

Single serving foods. Disposable plates. Disposable jobs. Disposable life. That's what so many people live, that it isn't funny. Wake up, brush teeth, piss, rub one out, go to work, work-work-work, hate work, eat lunch, do more work, leave work, get home, eat some pathetic microwaveable piece of shit, pass out. Do it all over. The beauty of speed, efficiency and repetition. The same goes with most jobs.

"Oh but I never get bored of my job."

Seriously? You NEVER get bored of your job. You never look at the blinking cursor and cursety curse it for not writing the same crap every time. True you start off writing different, but after a few brainstorm sessions, concerns are addressed, flags are raised and the same mundane copy vomits over your word document. A great design gets killed one pixel at a time. Is this the case always? Of course not. But you really want me to believe you've NEVER felt like that? Click, click click goes the designer, clackety clack goes the copy. Out comes an occasional gem and it will buy you about two month's worth of grace, if your lucky.

Tell me that an ad you saw changed the world. Now tell me how many more there were. We often say we're not curing cancer, but the lives we lead are truly CAUSING cancer at every turn of the corner. Late twenty year olds drink heart medication, mid thirty people can't stop talking about work while being short of breath. No one takes the time to pick up a piece of paper on the floor because it's all disposable.

That's why I don't have an iPod. Call me a caveman but listening to individual albums means that at the very least, a connection was made when I selected the damn thing. Cars used to last twenty years. Now you're lucky if you can get six from it just in time for it to crumble when you finish paying it off. That's because even our cars are disposable. Hell jobs are disposable as well. I'm turning twenty nine and I've already had six full time jobs at six different companies. Apart from that I've worked part time in a handful of other jobs as well. From selling cd's to a summer camp to giving english tutoring to people twice my age. An average of more than one job a year for a decade now. That's because the general mindset of employees and employers has been completely reworked. Loyalty is rewarded by suspission more than we'd like to admit and where one person sees loyalty, five people see complacency. It's almost as if job stability equals mediocrity to a certain degree.

What does it take to stick? What does it take to at least stop long enough to consider smelling the roses? What does it take for us to think green and not throw away most things we come in contact with. In the end we are free to enjoy life or despise it. That circumstances will modify our options and mold our respective perspectives is only natural. But in the end, if life moves too fast, maybe we're to blame. Recently we were asked what success is and here's my definition:

Success is permanence. It is not wealth. It is not power. It is in the ability to be memorable and have people remember you for the randomndest things. It is being a phone call away when someone is in a bust or wants to share good news. It's being that kiss that sticks out in someone's memory, the lyric that you couldn't get out of your head, the movie you can watch a thousand times and quote directly from it and the book you recommend to at least 4 people. Success is avoiding being disposable, even if only for a short while. If I die young or old, that doesn't matter, but that I'm remembered, therein lies immortality.

Cheers

Commenting on the BIll O'Reilly vid

Here's what happens when a comment goes out of control and basically becomes a post...

Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton might be emotive speakers that can tug on the heart strings of black, white, yellow and red america, but sometimes they seem like black versions of Ross Perot. While one is a crazy ass texan that doesn't make any sense, Al and Jesse often do themselves disservice by not measuring their own words. That's an opinion, a very personal one but I won't back down, because while I listen to incredibly inteligent black people talk, we repeatedly turn to these pillars of the black community to offer racially biased opinions that are just as racist as any redneck's, except that it comes from the counter point. Bill O'Reilly does have some points but he also eventually goes on the tirade, which is a shame because where he at one point HAS a point, he eventually shoots himself in the foot.

Here's my take. Michael Jackson was a hell of a performer. He was an icon. He revolutionized the music industry and took entertainment to a whole other level. Talent seeped from every pore, bleached or not. He had issues. He had major issues. He had oodles of issues. He had countless procedures done or at least it seemed that way. He grabbed his crotch way too often. He was NOT a pillar of the black community because he did not wave the black flag. He wasn't a token white boy for whatever accusations you might wish to entertain because of whom he kept associations with or his physical appearance. He was truly and honestly the first, full blow and by far the BIGGEST world phenomenon ever. He had Americans, Europeans, Asians and pretty much anyone with an ear drum crying if they saw him like he was some frigging pope. He was accused of child molestation. For the longest of time the shoe fit. The Jesus Juice thing didn't help matters much. He was creepy. He still didn't seem like the child raping kind. Maybe he seduced them and called it fair game. Maybe he didn't. We will NEVER know. Never as in NEVER. Everyone will speculate. Everyone will be a Michael Jackson fan for three months. The jokes will start bad and just get worse. He's dead. He won't come back from the dead thriller style. Everyone weeps for him. Everyone wept for Anna Nicole Smith. Everyone wept for Heath Ledger. 99% of the people didn't mean it. In this case it might be more true since most of us have some type of michael Jackson memory and I fondly remember Captain EO. Facebook wall posts will mirror the MJ media coverage and eventually people will find something else to hate, weep over, make fun of and masturbate to. Michael Jackson was not a hero. He spent too much money. He left the monkey 2 million dollars. He wanted to be Peter Pan. Did I mention he was creepy. Yeah he was creepy. He helped out charities. He was no saint. He seemed like a troubled albeit nice and timid guy that transformed into a crotch grabbing phenom. Everyone has an opinion. And this is just part of mine.

Tattoo Typos are Phunn-e. Phorevher.

There's notheeng more phunny than a Tattoo with a typho. Britney Spears haz one. Hayden Panettiere haz one. Cleeck at the name of the phost to zhee Kontraband.com's photo series. Here are some to whhett your apetyte. Henjoy.

I'm going to kill myself: O'Reilly may have a point.

Shit. This one is too tough to call... Opinions???

5 Movie Monologues that define: Me

Our friends at Film.com are doing the best thing ever: they compiled, according to them, the 50 Greatest Movie Monologues.
Since it has been a while since we've done the 5 Thing Series, I took the liberty of choosing my top five from all their choices (which were pretty damn good).

These are my all time favorites, in order. Click at the name of the post to see the complete Film.com list!

1) Pulp Fiction


2) GlenGarry Glen Ross


Godfather 1


Casablanca


Fight Club

Samurai Sellers: Chef Tony

Número three on the Samurai list, is the miracle dagger wielding Chef Tony.



How good is Tony Notaro at seeling a plate of thinly sliced, gourmet rottiserrie bullshit? Well what would you say if I told you that our beloved Chef Tony wasn't actually a chef and is and has been a salespitch guru for the better part of 35 years?

But what about the hat? The sash? The handkerchief? And his absolute mastery of a kitchen knife. Well, just because you can wield a Ginzu doesn't make you a culinary black belt, it just makes you handy with a knife and though I'm sure he can make a mean hoggie sandwich, that doesn't take from the fact that he's not a chef, it only makes you appreciate his prowess in the business even more.

What other person could inspire millions of people to dice cans, scrape a knife on concrete to then go to a tomato and/or slice a pineapple in mid air? No one. So what if he has a pornstache? One minute with him guarantees that you'll be dying to find out what the hell else he's going to slice through only to finish by fileting a tomato.


Video Evidence:



Marquis Products:

Miracle Blade Series
Brown and serve bags

Skills:

- Slicing and Dicing
- Slicing any fruit hurtled in his direction.
- Dicing and slicing

Weapon of Choice:

Miracle Blades and a whole lot of fake italian saavy

Strengths:

- Grip
- Distracting pornstache
- Chef hat of shame

Weaknesses:

- Real recipes
- Forks
- Spoons

Special maneuvres:

- Midair pineapple fatality
- Concrete Can Tomato Combo
- The Wallet Dicer

Likes:

- Sharp Cutlery
- Tomatoes
- Shiny things that cut

Hates:

- Plastic Cutlery
- Rust

Fears:

- A dull day
- Greasy fingers

Owns:

- More knives than any neighbor probably feels comfortable with.
- A sharp wit..... wow that pun SO sucked


Summary:

Chef Tony ain't no chef, but he can sure slice you a tender loaf of BS to convince you to buy a second set of kitchen knives you didn't need in the first place.

Introducing the WAS Music Festival!

We're accepting requests... This week is all about music that rocks. Join in the fun and start giving us links so we can all boogiee oogie while we work. First artist in our line up? Are you... Ready for... Tight, white jeans? Are you ready for THE fucking greatest moustache of all time??? ARE YOU READY FOR FREDDY?

Ladies and Gentlemen... Live from... Um... Why Advertising Sucks... Ok sort of taped but... fuck it...

QUEEN!

We all die at one point, right?

Just finished watching the Jacko's tribute and suddenly a question popped in my mind.

Quick Question alert!

Who would you love to sing at your funeral?

Which artist would make you go "Yeah, my death rocks"?

You have to give me a name and a song. Start typing...

My choice? I'll be seeing you sung by the greatest ever (and alive still) Tony Bennett.

No need for casket, people. Me wants to be cremated. Burn baby, burn.

Houston, we have a... Shit that's so Cool.

Define Success.

Really. Think about it and write it down. What do you define as success? What makes you Top of the Class? This is very interesting, since on Saturday I had the most interesting and frustrating call known to man.

Here I am minding my own business (pun intended), doing some light shopping and I get a call from someone I used to know. I write "used" because the body that carried the man I knew; the brain, muscles, heart, joints, etc... it's still there. His body has not changed. But the man inside? Gone. I am sad, really sad, but so be it. It was all because of this definition which I beg of you guys to tell me.

Maybe I need to redefine success so I can make sure I am not going crazy. So I'm going to write down my opinion on this word and you tell me if I'm dead wrong... or like I was told on Saturday, doing everything wrong. Let's begin, shall we?

Ok so success for me is this: I don't have millions of dollars. I am not rich, wealthy or any other definition of having dough. I have enough money to enjoy from time to time nice things. Like everybody else I save up and splurge only if I can. I have a small business which does advertising and other related things and I am not focusing on making it a huge advertising agency. In fact, I am doing this just to pay the bills and save up some more money until I can move to greener pastures and do something completely different.

Because I have my own shop, I only get to have short vacations. Although I would love to disappear to the Maldives for two weeks, I know I can't right now. But I get the pleasure of traveling a shitload of more times during the year on short bursts of 3 to 4 day weekends. My shop does not make thousands of dollars every month, but I don't mind since I have just what I need to enjoy life.

I get to escape my job from time to time to go to the movies with some great cats. I can run off to do my nails and come back without any boss telling me shit. My clients can call me anytime they want during the weekend and I won't mind at all. I am not looking for getting more clients or crushing people because I want to move forward, in fact, I am the one that usually tries to help out other friends either with freelance jobs or working on a project together so we can all make a buck or two.

The one thing that I know for sure is this: I am not looking to get recognized, win Clios, buy a yacht or a house in the Caribbean, I am not looking to be profiled in AdAge. I just want my business to do well, to make enough money so that I don't go hungry and from time to time I get to experience the world.

I don't need Filet Mignon. I don't want champagne wishes nor caviar dreams. I don't need a Porsche nor a five bedroom mansion. I just want to be happy, have a family (um, I am officially starting the baby hunt but that is another post, coming soon) and enjoy every minute that I have left on this planet.

This is success for me. So... Am I wrong? Am I nuts?

You know why I am asking? Because someone had the balls to tell me this weekend that I was running my business wrong and that I needed to change my views so that I could become a powerhouse. I needed to take "bigger" projects and refuse "small ones" because those are not worth time. In this economy, this human being told me to REFUSE deals and take only the ones which would make more money. Um...

I needed to sell my shop as an agency and not what it is and what I would like it to be. I need to change my future and instead of wanting a Kmart kiddie pool for my patio, I needed to "think big" and envision more. I need more people at my office. I need to sell an image. I need to portray success.

But... but... I am already successful! I have all that I need and more! Or am I just a dumb fuck with no ambition?

Oh and by the way... can you smell the sarcasm where you are reading this?

PS: A word of advice. Never tell someone how to run their life or their business. It's just not nice, you know?

We are assholes

If you think lawyers are dicks, take a look at your nearest Creative Director. And if he’s from Argentina, forget it! Not even he can stand himself. Because of a few bad apples over the past forty years, advertising professionals have earned quite the reputation: egomaniacal presumptuous pricks that think our shit don’t stink. And the sad part is that it’s actually true. We are a seriously stuck up, snobby bunch.

I guess it comes with the territory, a survival-of-the-fittest mechanism to make it in the cutthroat world that is advertising. For creatives it really does take an ego the size of Texas (cessation, anyone?) for us to believe the very shit we create. Sure, we justify the awesomeness of our work with qualifiers such as “strategic,” “integrated,” “single-minded,” “high-concept,” “gregarious,” “witty,” “engaging,” “360 approach,” and what not, but it all basically boils down to dressing a loaf of shit with a red ribbon.

Who are we kidding when we talk about groundbreaking concepts that “push the envelope?” Yeah, we come up with awesome work, but 9 times out of 10 we end up doing what the client asks for. However, we are so caught up in how cool and witty we are, how irreverent and off-the-wall we can be, that we often forget that the work we do really doesn’t make that big a difference.

Could it be that our egos are a way of covering up our frustration of not being “real” writers and artists?

Like we’ve said at WAS many times before, we’re not curing cancer, so let’s not act like a catchy headline or clever use of stock images will do the trick.

Egos are a necessary evil in this biz. From what I can see, it pays to be an advertising asshole. Thinking you’re hot shit is encouraged. Taking credit for even the lamest of victories is objective number one.

In this economy, let’s just be happy that we are being handsomely paid to do super fancy clerical work.