Tuesday, 29 September 2009

Congratulations! It's a pile of shit!

Well, the results are in. And after checking my suspicions with my mother (she's nearly target audience) it turns out I was right - the ads for the new Cleanavia were a complete pile of shit.

She was right, the old girl. The woman they used did look like a whore, just like the one Dad ran off with, and the typography in the headlines was really similar to the old British Telecom logo, which used the same colour as the florists down the road from the Post Office and, obviously, that reminds people of postmen, and Dad ran off with the postman's wife. So that was that!

I called the agency boys to tell them.

'You're a complete and utter prick, a disgrace to your profession, an absolute fucking idiot, you don't know your arse from your elbow, I've excreted things that are more able than you, you deserve to be flayed and then dipped in salt, you wouldn't know a good idea if it fucked you in the face, you're a tedious drunk, you're a greedy waste of my time, everybody in this entire agency - all 200 of them - hate you with a passion usually reserved for men who rape babies, I can't imagine a more vilely moronic collection of cells than you, the fact that you live and breathe while decent people starve is undeniable proof that God doesn't exist, I have considered giving up consuming any kind of liquid just on the off chance that you spontaneously combust in my company and there may be a tiny molecule of possibility that I piss on you while you burn.'

There was loads more like that. Loads! I think I touched a nerve with the agency boys!

I must have - he slammed the phone down before I could ask him when the new work would be done. (And before I got a chance to ask him what 'excreted', 'flayed' and 'anal prolapse' mean. The anal prolapse bit I left out of the above - it was confusing. But it seemed to involve me, a lot of rohypnol, a traffic cone and some tubing. I've no idea - but those guys are the creatives!)

Since then, I've had no answer to any calls or emails. I called Big Andy Poleman, the MD, and he said 'You've done it again? Fuck me, Dave - you really are a cunt. I'm trying to play fucking golf here. Well, at least this means there's a pitch on. Make sure you get a couple of international agencies involved - I fancy a trip to New York. The wife needs some new tits too, so South America would be good. Now fuck off.'

Jesus. If any two people laugh more than me and Big Andy Poleman, I'd like to meet them.

So, there you have it. The agency boys couldn't hack the pace of modern marketing, Dave Knockles-style. And they're not alone. LOADS of agencies haven't been able to hack the pace of modern marketing, Dave Knockles-style. They all seem to lose it when the pressure's on.

Anyway, I'll miss them. They were great at buying beerz! Still, I'm sure the next lot will be too - and if they're not, they won't get the gig! That's just how it is!

Why? Because I AM THE CLIENT!

1 comment:

  1. if this was facebook, I would have clicked "like". instead i'm writing it out.