Thursday, 12 February 2009


Adam the Creative Director returns from holiday. After regaling the department with tall tales of
his New York pilgrimage, he writes an e-mail to his wife thanking her for a nice holiday in
Skegness with the kids. And makes an attempt to apologise for his ‘little problem’.
Adam tells a placement team the most mundane anecdote in the history of cunt-kind and is
swiftly rewarded with a gale of sycophantic laughter. He walks gingerly to his desk to disguise the
semi-on he feels approaching.
Dinner time. After reading a pub review in a glossy fashion magazine bordering on wank mag,
Adam invites his odious companions to an over-priced under-furnished pub. Looking for the most
obscure titled real ale in the place, he settles for ‘speckled goat sphincter ‘and pays the barman
£4.50. Standing in a circle with other self appointed creative elite, they begin a verbal circle jerk.
In the afternoon, after a 3 hour liquid lunch, without anything to actually do, this creative charlatan
desperately searches through ads from the Far East to pick as his own in the near future.