Wednesday, 30 June 2010
I like old movies...
Awwwwww...
Isn't this advert sweet?
It's so warm and wonderful. It's rare that I can hear a story of love without feeling bitter or lonely but this is the equivalent of a sunrise over a summer meadow... it's inspiring... and hopeful... and making me feel far too feminine and flowery.
Where's my DVD of Die Hard?
Monday, 28 June 2010
Everyone wants to be like Mike
My little tribute to Michael Jackson.
(By the way, isn't his outfit very Vince Noir?!?!)
Sunday, 27 June 2010
Why do we fall?
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguahqursBNBGkJtxEXBUgwkthCno9oEMMIGL8DA0A8MXLTBo4bdqeP4YwOEY59zTuU04azO29Vg6MuAa1AYM-pLiuDrF-KtXu7JYc4G8taGiRBhIWzlbsK8oIOGUeK0UpXRYe4VXUqDn5v/s320/black-spider-man-rain.jpg)
Can I just say, this has been a rubbish weekend. My friend Spiddy here really illustrates this.
I am on the precipice of insomnia from work to the point where adventures have taken a back seat a good nights' rest. Then, when I drag myself out, I am witness to the slaughter (you know which one). That, by the way, was the second national side of mine to be knocked out in the space of less than 24 hours. Like a swift hammer blow to the underside of the testicles. I'll need a minute.
However, everything has a positive side. Right? Well, let's try to find some reasons why this weekend is good news for my life.
Nerves
Now England are out, the anxiety finally stops. No more nervous, nail biting hours of staring at the screen, no more worrying that Rooney might go shopping for an umbrella or iguana, fall off the pavement and hurt himself on a mislaid anvil. It's over. We are free. Free to worry about things actually matter. Like... the weather.
Poppycock
This weekend is the end of completely rubbish england-related flim flam. No more songs pretending to be patriotic to climb through the charts (dizzee rascal, i'm talking to you), no more adverts claiming pizza is someway linked to athletes. I'm sorry. They are all lies. No more lies.
Pubhangers
No more hanging out with pubhangers. You know who pubhangers are. Put simply, these are people who own several football strips and obviously don't take part in any actual sports. I dislike these people. Especially in enclosed spaces, in desert heat listening to them remix a nursary song as a chant simply by replacing all the words with England. Well done. I'll bet that's what Beethoven wished he had thought of when he heard it in heaven.
Neutrality
I can enjoy watching football much more as a neutral observer. I know that's a weird perspective on a sport but I prefer watching as a neutral observer. It ruins it, especially if I lose. When I watch England I subconsciously transform into their star striker and (usually) suffer the following disappointment at missed opportunities and defeat.
Philosophy
There are some ideas that I have always maintained about life. It is chaos, mayhem that should be thanked every morning for not destroying us. We don't get what we deserve. We get what we get. This weekends' event reminded me that life can be mean, thus leading me to appreciate the days that are warm, generous or otherwise pleasant.
Like always a crisis is an opportunity. An opportunity for me (and everyone for that matter) to be strong. To get back up onto the proverbial swing and start again from scratch. To dust ourselves down and remind ourselves that failure is the best way to learn.
I wouldn't feel right if I didn't include a quote from a movie so I'll end with a quote from Batman Begins. "Why do we fall master Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up again." Remember that England.
Friday, 25 June 2010
Gallop Mary, Gallop!
I LOVE THIS. It is utter nonsense but it always brings a smirk about my person. Not a proper smile. It's much more sneaky than that. A ninja expression, swiftly and stealthily avoiding my armed guards and laser defenses using silent acrobatics and military precession.
Kudos Mary! You're officially my favourite cow.
Friday, 11 June 2010
Carpet Dookie
It actually pains me to post this advert on my blog but it has raised an issue that I would like to talk (rant) about. Go, Compare! (like a lot of companies in the financial/insurance sector) have resorted to pure, rampant irritation in an attempt to grab my attention. Shame on you! Shame!!! Make me think, make me cry, scare me, make me laugh (all it takes is a monkey and a top hat for God's sake). Don't annoy me. I have the power of Sky Plus. I'll fast forward your oversized, opera face out of existence.
Mwah ha aha ha ha!!!
I do wonder how such things enter my digital space. Along the way of going from creative idea to finished product did no-one think "that's a terrible idea". Yes, they did. But here's the secret: Annoying is good, for sales anyway. Annoying makes it memorable so when people need insurance or whatever Go, Compare! springs to their mind. However, these sales tend to be temporary and more importantly, brands are not just about recall.
Here is where I tell you an elaborate little story nicely bringing to wise words like it's a well written american drama. When I was about 12 years old I was around my friend Ian's house playing mariokart on his brand new N64 (wow, so many years ago). We were cruising around one of the various circuits when Ian's little brother, Andrew, came tottering into the room. He sat behind us for a while but soon got bored and wandered out of the room. Halfway through our next race, in amongst the brightly coloured anarchy, me and Ian sensed something and synchronized a look of surprise and confusion.
"What the...?"
Innocent little Andrew had left a steamy turd, right in the middle of the floor.
"......................"
Gross. And hilarious, but mostly gross. Ian's poor mum had to come in and clean up all of Andrew's hard work. To this day I remember that experience which brings me to my point. I remember Andrew from this experience and probably always will but he will always the guy that took a crap on the carpet. No matter what happens. Thats how I will always think of him. Is that how a company wants to be perceived? Irritation is all I will ever feel in the first seconds of Go, Compare! before I skip it and continue watching House.
Annoying as it is I have found a silver lining in my personal life. I have a new found appreciation for good creative, for all the work that has brought a smile to my face and inspired me to use my imagination while there's not some sales incentive or jerk in a neck-tie and buttoned up shirt instructing me to ignore it.
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
We all have dreams...
Apparently there's a football tournament going down this summer? It's called the world trophy or something like that.
Of course, I am talking about the world cup. Unless you're a genie and your cave-dwelling, magic lamp doesn't have a tv you will have at least some knowledge of this whether you want it or not.
Television has gone insane to the point where I (a fairly enthusiastic football fan) am beginning to lose interest before the first game kicks off. Of particular annoyingness is the sudden (and predictable) barrage of football related ads. What exactly does a supermarket have to do with sport at all? I'm sorry but I find that about as believable and coherent as a drunk puppy with a top hat trying to convince me that someone else pissed on my carpet. It's not going to happen.
Thanks heavens then for Nike. Their blockbuster of a television advert is just what I needed to get back in the spirit of the competition. 'Write the future' is simply amazing. I know some people in the ad industry don't like it, saying it glamourizes footballers, doesn't' focus on the product and suffers from severe overproduction. Now, I don't like to criticize others. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I both love and respect them. However, these people are morons and here's why.
There is no man who plays football, owns FIFA on one of the various games consoles or has seen a picture of a football in his life who watched Rooney and co for 3 minutes and didn't instantly go hunting for the nearest football or spherical object within the vicinity. It has such an emotional appeal, pumping testosterone through the veins of male population nationwide, fuelling dreams of one day, someday, striding out onto the evergreen lawns of Wembley. Is that not the reaction every football boot manufacturer dreams of?
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