News from The Drum: Brochures 1, Catalogues 0

Back page scribe: Barry St. Edmonds

Brochures managed to scrape a badly needed victory against Catalogues last night, after being awarded extra pages in the dying moments.

A print room insider told The Drum that Brochures had been under considerable pressure after a diabolical performance last season, but managed to hold their own against local rivals Catalogues thanks to a last minute page substitution.

Catalogues went in hard during the first half, but conceded a goal despite their rival's smaller format. Glossy covers and informal style fought hard for Brochures with a DPS of coupons at half-time. But it was a surprise gate-fold flycover with die-cut edges that sent Catalogues packing.

Leaflets face Flyers next week in the 3rd round of the Bill Posters Cup.

5 stars. Excellent seller. Would buy again

Lovely piece of work for Pringle sweaters. Scribbles are by Herr Shrigley. Anyone know the agency involved? In house? Can't be arsed Googling.

Via about three different people. You know who you are. Mwah mwah.

Never Work

Creativity. It's everywhere. Feels as though you can't ruddy move for it these days.

In a culture hellbent on providing every tit and Herbert with an outlet for their "voice", and where freedom of expression is valued and encouraged far beyond anything you could objectively consider reasonable, finding stuff with any serious artistic clout, or cultural significance is becoming a right blimmin' shitter innit. There are more art galleries than rats in London. Fact. Shoreditch was declared the world's first Art Slum last week. The UN had to close down 1,000 pop-up galleries just to stop the whole place becoming really fucking boring.

So, based upon this trend of (what I'm gonna call) cultural obesity, I've now concluded that in a world filled to the back rafters with artists, creative-types, and wannabes, the most creative, original and trail-blazing thing one can do is...

ABSOLUTELY NOTHING AT ALL.

From here on in I'm declaring myself an artist! An artist who's sole aim is to explore the non-artistic world by not doing anything creative at all. By fitting in and conforming. By being dull and plain and exceptionally fucking average.

By being nothing.

Only through these methods will we see and experience the world as it truly is.

(Maybe I'll start with getting a job in as an art worker or something... mwah ha ha ha mwahh ha ha haaaaaa)

Do I Look Like I Give A Shit?

You know how it is. Brief comes in and the suits sit you down. This client is GREAT! they tell you. Amazing in fact. Brilliant guys with a brilliant product... An incredible, unique proposition. Problem is, no one's heard of'em.

So you spend hours, days, weeks, trying to empathize with the client. You meet his wife and his children. You go to dinner with them. Eventually, you even go on a canal holiday with them. But you still can't figure out why this client is any different to the rest of 'em. You still can't quite convince yourself to give a shit.

In other words, you still can't quite believe the hype you yourself have created. You catch yourself in the pub or at dinner parties telling people how great your client is and how aghast you are that no-one's ever heard of them. But still... deep down... do you really give a shit?

But then, do you need to give a shit? Or can you just fake it? Is empathy enough, or do you really need to feel their pain?

So. Play acting or method acting?

Flood Warning

POP! That's the sound of my finger coming out of a dyke.

[SNIGGER]

I've decided to allow anonymous posts in the comments section. It wasn't a difficult decision. I just hadn't realised it was entirely disabled.

[SNIGGERS AGAIN IN A MORE SINISTER FASHION]

[AND AGAIN BECAUSE SNIGGER SOUNDS LIKES A RUDE WORD TOO]

Dark Times

I'm feeling dark today. Darker than usual. Darth Vader isn't especially dark I know, but you techy-bloggy lot are bound to be into that sci-fi shit.

I actually hate Darth Vader.

More than he hates himself.

But there's definitely something dark in the air. Ben and Matt left Weiden's this week. And they were the greatest creative partnership since Ian and Myra.

(Or is that too dark?)

Maybe it's to do with the fact that I had attend my uncle's funeral yesterday and suddenly noticed just how pathetic and simplistic religion is. I thought we were all going to have to wave at the coffin at one point. Byeeee!

So what dark things have you thought recently? Go on. I won't tell. Answers on a prostitute's corpse please. Or whatever turns you on.

This Page Is Blank

Blah blah blah blah wah wah blah interesting wah wah hah blah blah hah hah blah post blah blah wah hwah whah hah blah here wha blah blha blah from blah blah blah blah blah blah Captain Tait.

Oh. Did you skip the link? Oh well.

Blah blah blah wha wah wah wahh blah blah I blah wah wah guess blah blah whh wah blah blaaah blllaaa wah it balh blah all blah wah wah wah wahh blah depends wah blah blah wah wah wah blleh blah blaerh what blah balh you blah blah wah ahw wah wah wah blah want blah blah to blah blah blah blaergh blah get blah blah blah blah out blah of it whether you blah blah blah read it or not. Blah blah.

Blah blah wha wha blah blah blah blah blah blah but it blah blah wah haha reminded blah blah blah blah wah whahgh whagh blurgh blagh blah blah blugh wah wah a lot blaugh blah blah blah blah blah of blah blah blah bla hwah wha wah this.

(It's ok. I didn't think you'd've read it).

The point is blah blah blah wha wah wha blah blah blah wah wah blah how bal h blah wah wah wah blah blah blah wah wah we perceive language.

Blah blah balh wah wah wah blah wah blah since blah blah blah blah wah wah our brain blah wah wah wah wah wah blah blah naturally fills in the blanks.

As much as it can.

Blah balh blah blah blah blah wha wha wah blah because blah blah wah wah wha wha blah wah that's how we learn.

Blah blah blah wah wah wah it' s pretty hard blah blha blah blah blah wah wah wah blah blah wah wah to switch blah blah wah wah wahwah blah wablah bwal blaw it blah bla off.

Blah blah blah.

Which means as blah balh blah blah wah wah wah blah blah wah wah blah a writer blah blah blah wah wahw wah wahb blah blah blah I have to keep thinking wah wah blah blah blah blah blah bal wah wah wah wah of all sorts of crazy ways blah blah wah wah wah blah blah wah wah blah blahb lah blah blah blah to get you to read to the end.

So. Last one to the full-stop's a bender.

Don't Ask

Just in the middle of writing some radio ads involving a dominatrix and some phone sex. Designers are BBC6ing it up though so I've grabbed my iPod and pressed shuffle to drown em out.

Shostakovich's String Quartet No. 8's just come on.

This is going to get messy...

All A Bored

This boat is for the The Nation Of Why Not...



... Calling at Why The Hell, What The Fuck, and the Island of Give A Shit.

News from The Drum: McCann's neither confirm or deny rumour of them "all being crocodiles"

Rumours editor: Ernie Soils

Rumours surrounding rumour-splattered McCann's today shifted up a gear after no-one from the agency said anything at all after The Drum received a letter last week claiming that everyone within the agency was actually a crocodile.

The unsigned, hand-written note which was shoved through The Drum's letterbox last week, explained that members of McCann Erickson Communications "all turned into crocodiles once a week and thrashed around in a big paddling pool together, snapping their jaws." According to the source, this transformation takes place when no-one is looking and lasts about 5 minutes before they all go back to work as though nothing has happened. It's thought the note may have come from a concerned client who points out "It doesn't mention crocodiles in their [McCann's] mission statement."

In the interest of fairness, The Drum contacted McCann's as well as checking their mission statement; neither of which said anything about crocodiles.

We'll bring you the latest as it happens.

A Sexual Fantasy Involving Dave Trott

This one goes out to the onanists out there who made this blog almost 600% more popular after this post last month. So let's see if we can make even more SEO history by combining adver-blog heavyweight Herr Trott with some good old fashioned smut. 1000% here we come.

(Adjudicating the attempt we have Google Analytics and Mr. Norris McWhirter... on saxophone).

DAVE TROTT: I remember when I first started out in the business. I was randy as a divorced bull.

ME: That's interesting, Dave. Maybe you should write about it on your blog.

DAVE TROTT: I'd love to, John. It's a side of the business people never like to talk about. And we need to be much more open with ourselves these days, as well our clients. Because let's face it: sex sells. So let's talk about it.

At length.

With double line-spacing.

ME: Er, ok. But only of you think it'll help my advertising career...

DAVE TROTT: Of course it will. I'm fucking Dave Trott, duh!

ME: Sorry, Dave. Off you go then.

DAVE TROTT: That's more like it!

Ok. There was this art director at Ogilvy's back in the 60's who used to love fucking his clients.

Male or female, it didn't matter.

He just wanted to fuck his clients.

And the thing was, the clients didn't mind, because this art director had a huge dick.

ME: Um... Dave?

DAVE TROTT: The clients wanted him to fuck them.

ME: I'm not comfortable with this, Dave.

DAVE TROTT: They just couldn't get enough of his donkey dick.

ME: Stop saying "dick" please, Dave.

DAVE TROTT: None of us could.

ME: La, la, la, la, la - I'm not listening...

DAVE TROTT: Everybody just adored this guy's cock.

ME: No! Stop it. Now.

DAVE TROTT: You just had to see it to believe it.

ME: I don't want to see it.

DAVE TROTT: So everybody who came to agency used to get shown the art director's penis.

It was like a right of passage.

ME: Please don't say "passage" either.

DAVE TROTT: Now I'm not gay, or anything like that.

But that art director taught me two of the biggest lessons of my career.

ME: Ahh, now this is more like it...

DAVE TROTT: How to shaft your clients.

And how to spot a dick.

World's First Invisible Blog Post BETA

Testing






Testing






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Being Freelance

A big fat freak of a topic this but I'll try and keep it as brief, dainty and as far from the pies as possible.

First thing first: whatever anyone tells you, freelance is shit. Total. Raw. Horrible. Shit. Steeped in a bucket with AIDS on top shit. Or at least it is for writers [insert the standard No One Values Writing Anymore argument]. The ( lazy) perception that designers/art directors are somehow more skilled than writers means that freelance designers get around like high-class tarts, whilst writers have to scratch around for pennies amongst left-over johnnies, never quite knowing if their next gig is for a Sutcliffe or not.

No, it's an all together grubbier business is writing, and whilst it's definetely not for the faint hearted, it's certainly not for the careerist either. If you want your book to be full of beautiful, varied, fuck-me-that's-ace work - stay in your agencies people. On the other hand, if you want a book full of tepid headlines and dismal blurbs, go freelance! Do it now. Go on. Get banged in an alley by someone you don't care about. You never know, someone really attractive might turn up from time to time and make you feel special for a few fleeting squirts. Either way, you'll be begging them for money by the end of it. Like an animal.

(Still, you could always be a planner, plaiting bullshit all day).

Sigh.

I guess what I'm trying to say (in as entertaining and un-self conscious way as possible) is I've come to realise just how fucking boring it is being freelance. In fact, this blog is just one great big temple of restlessness - no direction or continuity. I need some discipline this year.

I'm a whore. Spank me for fucksake.

Dave Trott's Snow Blog

Frozen to death en route to a D&AD turkey buffet, advertising legend Dave Trott's spirit is accidentally lodged inside a nearby snowman.

Trapped within a weather/advertising related limbo, his spirit must linger until such time as the ice melts and medics are able to re-start his heart.

This is his story...

As Douglas Adams might say, "don't panic".

It's me.

Dave Trott.

What?

Haven't you ever read an ad blog by a snowman before?

It's no crazier than the weather we've been having.

And let's face it: advertising is as crazy today as the current band of low pressure.

This cold-snap's set to last longer than a client's lunch... and be twice as expensive.

We'll all be footing the bill.

But as the saying goes: don't travel unless it's absolutely necessary.

That's what we used to tell all the teams at Frosty Snowflake and Rudolph.

Without fail.

Year in.

Year out.

But we had one guy who just wouldn't listen.

An art director called Conrad Ogilvy III.

He was a genius.

The director loved him as much as the clients.

You could pitch a snowball at him and -

MEDIC'S VOICE: Mr. Trott? Can you hear me Mr. Trott? You've had a nasty fall, Mr. Trott... [NO RESPONSE] Christ, he's reminicsing... Call the crash team...

Juan Cabral's Latest

My New Year's Resolutions

1. Protect the innocent

2. Serve the public trust

3. Uphold the law

4. Classified