Staplerfahrer Klaus

First-day-on-the-job-nerves? It's the story of my fucking life. This one's dedicated to all you freelancers, nomads, and minstels out there (and you know who you are...)

Here's Staplerfahrer Klaus (Klaus the Forkliftdriver) - one of my old favourites. Here it is in it's original German glory (don't worry- it's easy enough to follow).

New Post

-Morning, Blog.
-Morning, John.
-How're you then today?
-All right.
-Just all right.
-Yeah. S'pose so.
-Did you watch the match then?
-What match?
-Dunno... some match or...somthing or... So what you got lined-up today then?
-Do us a favour mate, and stick the kettle on, eh.
-Blimey. Don't even say please.
-Oh fuck off, John. It's early.
-It's not that early.
-I said leave it, all right.
-Ok, ok. Jesus, Blog. I was only being nice...

A Futile Gesture

At least once a week I seem to get sodomized by a train. I don't mean properly up the arse or anything (that'd be stupid -duh!) I mean I get well and truly buggered-up by late running public transport.

Whilst it's customary to blame Maggie Thatcher, I also blame all the lazy, ignorant, fuckwitted, insect-people who operate the trains.

So. Next time the train's running late because you or one of your colleagues hasn't done what they were supposed to do, rather than burbling your illiterate, nonsensical explanation into a broken tannoy, why not just do something that's explicitly futile. For example:

- Release a dove of peace at all the stations affected by the delay

- Play "Shiny, Happy, People" over the tannoy

- Offer passengers one of your Lockets

- Hold a minute's silence

- Do a Tommy Cooper impression

Fancy A Pint?

Where oh-where, oh-where to find a quiet pub in San Francisco!? It's a nightmare.

But not anymore!

With Citysense you can find quiet (or busy!) pubs all over the San Francisco bay area just by fannying around with your Blackberry like a bell-end! It's the future!

Don't worry though lads - she'll still have to phone the landlord to find you!

Kick Me

I've been working at TBWA this/last week. It's in Didsbury. In a church.

Everyone's lovely. Maybe the chruch thing's rubbed off on them? Normally as a freelancer you get side-lined or ignored, or left out. You never really feel welcome anywhere. It's not like that here, though. Oh, no. Here they let me drink as much coffee as I want. It's ace!

But.

If anyone from TBWA's reading this (except for Pisspoor Paul - he's sitting behind me blogging about Cannes, so he doesn't count) do you think it's possible someone could bully me a bit or something? I'm not used to people being nice to me all the time. Maybe someone could keep spilling tea on me, or moving my chair? My desk faces the wall, but if anyone can find a way to glare at me a bit, maybe?

Sorry to disturb you all. Just pretend I'm not here. Feel free to spit on me if you like...

Swords

Many people still carry swords. I myself have carried a sword for the greater part of my adult life. Prior to that I had a small bayonet sheathed within my knee-sock. As an adolescent I was presented with a fruity little rapier, and finally gravitated to the mighty Claymore I have with me today.

The Claymore is doubtless a heterosexual sword, unlike -say- the scimitar, which is wobbly and curved like a fussy kind of accessory.

Here are some more people who carry swords:

-Allah
-Jack the Ripper (in a stick)
-Roy Walker
-Dungeons and Dragons "personalities"

If you - or anyone other than you- can think of anyone other than me who carries a sword, let me know.

For now, I have to go back to work.

Ciao xx

Honda My Arse

Check this out. It's a brochure for the 1968 Mazda 110s that makes most W+K's Honda work work look positively tame.

What went wrong with car ads anyway? Why aren't they all like this..! And the copy's ace too ("pleasant cojolery" - genius.)