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Brother Stevie has bent space and time to produce this week's illustration because he's also pitching and raising a family (including three semi-feral wolves) - that's what I call commitment, not sloping out of bed at 11.00 in the morning to moan and whinge to a virtual audience of 8 about not having won a meaningless online popularity contest that you didn't even want to win anyway and were disgusted by, as if advertising isn't so totally overwhelmed by bells and baubles anyway so that we even have to have rosettes for advertising blogs - that's not called commitment, that's called Sour Grapes.
The winner, in the end, was flat-bread wearing planner Eoan with his post about Noam Chomsky and I don't know, I stopped reading after that bit. I suspect he must have used some sort of underhand social networking mechanic, or at least an all-agency email. All I can say is, yes, you may have won, and, yes, you may have the 606th most influential ad blog according to AdAge Power150, but AT LEAST I'VE GOT A REASONABLE NUMBER OF CONSONANTS IN MY NAME.
That's not a name, it's the noise you make when you stub your toe.
In fact, although voting has now closed, I see I'm now in the lead by 57 votes to 55. And fuck it, I've never been one to let a democratic result get in the way of my thirst for empty acclamation, so I hereby declare myself this month's "Biggest Nazi in Advertising". Heil me.
In other news, I saw Mick Jones in Rough Trade yesterday - I see Mick Jones so often that it's actually become slightly embarrassing for both me and Mick Jones. I got his autograph the first time I saw him (in the Notting Hill pharmacy), and I winked at him in WHSmiths (also in Notting Hill), so I've more or less run out of plausible fan interactions without actually trying to become his mate. Last night I considered offering him the use of my umbrella in the snow but ended up thinking that would be just too disgusting so instead surruptitiously took this picture of him with my mobile. I didn't want to get much closer than that because these days he looks like a Halloween pumpkin in mid November.
Also, you basically have to work in Rough Trade Shoreditch to successfully rock this gentleman's look:
Anyway, Happy Friday everyone - although basically it's another cheese-eating bath-robe wearing day like any other as far as I'm concerned.
5 comments:
I managed to vote for you a few times, not sure how. But now feel cheated that the young gurner from XFactor beat you.
I was hoping for an illustrated post of yourself wearing the SS leatherwear. Damn you Friday 13th! Damn you for stealing my dreams!
Any sniffs on the job front?
You've got the ranting down, i'll give you that.
At least we both appear to be Clash fans, so that's something.
Good luck
E
Yeah, well at least I don't wear bread.
Oh, you're quite nice, but anyway.
PH - erm, sort of still putting my portfolio together. But I have been talking to a few friendly people.
So at this point I am still my own worst enemy by a fairly long shot.
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