Wednesday, 28 November 2012

Talk Like A Client

My dear, dear friends. My fellow marketing professionals. My countrymen from The Republic of Upturned Revenues. Today I would like to give you some advice.

Not advice like, you know, marry a woman with small hands or never, EVER pay a Thai hooker until after you’ve wiped your donk on the curtains.

No, I mean this advice:

Talk Like A Client.

I realise that I may have just blown your minds with the simple, distilled genius of that sentence, so let me explain by way of an advertising anecdote – an advertdote, if you will. (Or even if you won’t – I couldn’t give two halves of fuck-all.)

Yesterday, I  burst through the doors of my agency like Hurricane Sandy, threw my briefcase on one of the luxurious white sofas (Oops! Sorry miss! It’ll stop bleeding soon – and it can’t make you any uglier!) and leaned in close, close, close to my favourite receptionista.

“I’m here for my nine-fifteen - but I could probably squeeze in a sixty-nine,” I purred. “With you,” I added, because I just can’t help communicate with clarity and relevance, like a great ad.

As usual, she pretended to need to leave very immediately, so I just strode manfully for the elevator. Once inside, I proceeded to Talk Like A Client.

“FUCKING LIFTS!” I roared at everyone inside. “NOBODY FART!”

Then I farted.

(Do you see what I was doing? I was Talking Like A Client.  I’m about to do it some more.)

I turned left as I left the lift, then heading right at the right rate – not too fast, not too quick – and headed into the meeting room.

Turns out I was three hours late for my nine-fifteen, and someone else was using the meeting room. Did I let that stop me? No. I just Talked Like A Client.



“He’s one of our other clients,” replied the planner who, I noted, was talking through a slide entitled De-Saville Your Brand: Removing toxic social halos in the post-Twitter age’. (Yes – we are now POST-Twitter. Who knew?)

“WELL, FUCK HIM! I’M ME!” I replied. See? I was Talking Like A Client.

Trouble was, the other client started Talking Like A Client too. It got quite abusive and loud, and basically looked like two fat, drunk toddlers standing in a swimming pool of shit throwing handfuls of it at each other from point blank range.

But that’s not the point. The point is, we were Talking Like Clients. And when you Talk Like A Client, you Feel Like A Client. And when you Feel Like A Client, you Become The Client. Do you see? DO YOU SEE?

Here are some other ways of Talking Like A Client:


“That’s shit. Not shit, like,  shit. I mean shit, like, super, SUPER shit.”

“This invoice. It’s just not going to happen.”

“I spotted a double space in the copy. I think it’s time to bend over and take a Knockles.” (Use your own name for this one, obviously. Or not. I don't mind my name being permanently associated with fisting a discount out of an agency.)

“Can you make the whole ad a bit more like the ad I imagined?”

Hopefully, you can now see what Talking Like A Client is, what it means, how it works and what it can do for you. If you can’t, then go fuck yourself to death. I haven’t got time to spoon-feed my genius to brainless fanny-mops like you.

Why? Because I AM THE CLIENT!

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