Friday, July 17, 2009

If only copywriters had freedom

If copywriters didn't have to listen to clients and creative directors, the world would go ape-shit and advertising would make you mess your pants. If only. A dream that will never come true.

Enjoy this shit.






Friday, July 10, 2009

The King is Dead, Long Live the Fuckshow

If you didn’t watch Michael Jackson’s memorial service, you missed a couple of things. If you didn’t know Michael Jackson was dead, I should probably also tell you now that the polar ice caps are slowly melting and Father Christmas isn’t real. And the Easter bunny. And Pamela Anderson’s tits.

So, besides the obvious showoffy vibe of the whole thing with the gold-plated coffin and customary funeral slide show, a couple of things concerned me.

The Jackson family had a very look-at-me-I’m-mourning vibe about them. Latoya wore a big-ass hat that hid her grief and her unsightly features. Janet tried to let her tit pop out at every occasion. I won’t say anything about the parents. But the brothers? The brothers need their own paragraph. But first, a picture:



Really? Matching suits with matching ties? Really? Matching not-so-secret agent sunglasses? Really? Matching sparkly gloves reminiscent of MICHAEL in his prime? Really? Yes really, just another part of what turned out to be a massive fuckshow.

Another thing that surprised me is that Maya Angelou is still alive. And why did Queen Latifah qualify to be there and read out Angelou’s MJ poem? Is it because she’s Queen? And he’s was the King? That’s retarded.

And when Jennifer Hudson walked out to sing, I thought she was Aretha Franklin – I know she had a baby recently but it looks like all that money she’s been making has been spent on donuts. And Twinkies.

Al Sharpton, the ‘great’ Al Sharpton – had to bring in race again. “Thank you Michael for letting black people be noticed.” I think he was confusing the King of Pop with Martin Luther King and Rosa Parks. And Martin Luther King III was there too. Looks like he’s been buying donuts with his family’s money as well.

And then there was Usher who touched the coffin and cried like it was his mother lying there. And Mariah Carey looked up at the roof of the Staple Centre while she screeched, pretending it was heaven. Brook Shields looked like a man - I thought it was Hulk Hogan until I saw her face.

Generally, it was a sad fuckshow of a tribute to a legend. We all know he had his kiddy fiddling accusations (which were never proven) but his music gave us all eargasms every time it was played.

But he still looked like a retard.

Apparently Justin Timberlake was supposed to perform at the funeral but he was told that his chosen song – “I’m Bringing Michael Back” – did not go down so well with the family as it was an empty promise.