Adam arrives at work precisely 7 minutes after the majority of the creative department to ensure
maximum exposure. Walking into the department with a carefully rehearsed mobile phone soliloquy
about media budgets and digital opportunities, this wannabe Soho shitcreep begins the day.
Reviewing a team’s book fresh from college, Adam flicks through their folio with calculated
nonchalance and begins an unprompted lecture on the clients he claims to have worked on whilst
simultaneously glancing down one of their tops. He stores the image in his mind’s ‘wank bank’ for
his 11am cubical knuckle shuffle.
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Blog Archive
About Me
- The Placement
- I hate my fucking job. I didn’t get into advertising to watch a Petri dish experiment of cuntal behaviour. But yet here I am. A mickey mouse degree in copywriting and a student loan that towers higher than my empty beer can monolith. And still no job. Well, that’s not exactly true. I work my balls off at one of the region’s turdiest ad agencies for nothing. Yes nothing. ‘A placement’ we call it. Which roughly translates to ‘you will work your ass off for free and we’ll nick all your ideas’. But beggars can’t be choosers and I need the experience. Sadly, my experience so far is working for a bunch of piddle-dicked creative wannabes and in particular, my Creative Director, Adam. Without doubt the most inane charlatan in the history of cunt-kind. I wish he would just buy some compost, shove it down his fetid, moth-eaten, tuna-smelling pants and grow some balls, the masquerading creative shitwit. Speaking of balls, instead of a stress ball, I let it all out here. Every moment of Adam’s working (I use the term loosely) life. A little like Bridget Jones but without the big pants. Enjoy