christ!mas prayer

our client who likes art in A1

thank you sir
for your business

and ruining my sleep

and my appetite

and my grey hairs

and total and complete paranoia!

heres a token from us to you sir

we hope you like the chocolates

and we pray that you continue in the same vein in 2011

and that we continue kissing your precious posterior

in the hope of ultimate redemption

- a[d]men

10 years of [b]advertising...

a rather significant day for us today. we completed 10 years in the demonic, weird, wired, wicked, demented and very real world of advertising! the longest we have worked in any industry!


however, we offer no paens to this way of life. wild, exhilarating, breathless, we think not! all we can think of is that we need more sleep. and that st. bernardine of siena, the patron saint of advertising [oxymoron!!?] is also the patron saint of gamblers...


we got into this world thanks to a lady. and we may leave it thanks to a woman. for we realise that our latent bluntness bodes no good for a lucrative career in an industry that demands the honeyed word instead of a kick in the gluteals! where neuroses and fantasies exist merely to cover for ineptitude, crassness, lack of focus and alternate career options! an industry where the key words are 'client' and 'servicing', which are also key words in the world's oldest profession [but then isnt advertising the world's 2nd oldest profession...??]


but perhaps we shall be richer for the experience! for we have learned that creativity does not depend on the right  side of the brain any more - it can be downloaded! and that an industry that professes to be creative has far too many business school apologists running it!


and we close this wee post on the eve of the biggest [b]advert created. for the santa of today is no jolly, pot-bellied bearer of gifts but merely an illustration from harper's bazaar. sorry to rein on any parades, my deer!

matrimoany - part 2

our readers [for there are 2!] will have to bear with us while we let off on the above, in light of recent happenings on this front. we had no idea getting into the holy state was so fraught! the road thereto seems to be littered with bumps, obstacles and detours. and when we look around and see some of the mariés [who look like neanderthals on a night out] latched onto what can only be called visions, we tend to bemoan our fate. for we seem to attract the flotsam of the opposite sex. kindhearted they may be but fair of face they are not. and we wonder where these have vanished. or [as we said to the pater in anguish not 24 hours ago after yet another narrow escape] are we destined to meet orks. granted we do not set the world on fire with our bose-like features but at least people do not recoil in fright on seeing us [or so we think]!


but then, as is our wont, we speculate on the reasons thereof, and wonder if those who snog the visions have something else. personality? money? big car? amatory skills? or are the visions attracted to them precisely because their comeliness is heightened in juxtaposition to a boris-karloff reject?


perhaps we should walk into a lamp-post...