(For instance, I've never seen an ad of his featuring a big shot of the product, or a bird with big bristolas. Work that out, if you can.)
Not only does the fuckbag do all these pointless seminars on how to market consumer durables (like I need to know how to do that!) but he also has a tedious and irrelevant column in our trade mag.
(Oh - he also poached my marketing manager, Sally Pearson-Wright, the shit-felching cunt-portion.)
Well, this column is the fucking problem. It's less interesting than watching very, very dull paint dry and, just when it looks like the paint has dried, some cunt comes along and gives it another coat of an even more tedious shade of post-industrial grey which dries even more slowly.
But now he's started using it to SLAG ME OFF!
Last week, the dirty great fadge-pipe said, 'While some of our rivals are content to patronise their consumers with a traditional, even offensive, view of women, we're finding great success in building a rapport with those same consumers through online channels.'
FUCKING WHAT? TRADITIONAL? OFFENSIVE? HEY, RUPERT! WHAT'S SO FUCKING OFFENSIVE ABOUT SHOWING WOMEN WHO ARE NICE TO FUCKING LOOK AT? EH? IS IT PATRONISING TO SUGGEST THAT WOMEN WANT TO LOOK 20 YEARS YOUNGER AND HAVE BIGGER BRISTOLAS?
HA! NO ANSWER TO THAT IS THERE, YOU MUG!
What a colossal shit-crack. What a fucking cuntwedge. What an absolute dangle bag.
Well, I'm not even bothered. Couldn't give a fuck. I don't even bother reading it, really. Well, I read it every week, but I hate it. Anyway, I couldn't care less.
Let's see if he's still pissing on about online channels (whatever the fuck they are) when my new campaign breaks and sales go through the fucking roof and into the cunting Daveosphere.
I'll sort him out, one day.
Why? Because I AM THE CLIENT!