A nice surprise of hair

I finally went to the salon yesterday. My shock of hair has now been trimmed to a mere startle. In fact, I think it’s bordering on a nice surprise of hair. Which actually sounds rather bad. My mother seemed pleased though. “Good,” she approved and decided to start nagging me about something else. The only reason I cut my hair was cos it was flopping all over the place. Oh, and cos certain people were pointing at my head and uttering sentences with the words “jungle”, “overgrown” and “civilisation” in them. The bastards.

The end of this road

Yesterday was my last day at work. If nothing else, I’ve made a few good friends in my time at the agency. Seven months may seem short but when you’re handling crap accounts and working disastrous hours, you make buds pretty quick. Buds who got me a $100 Kino voucher (thanks!) but also buds who toiled with me, cursed with me, laughed with me, partied with me and threw away my bag of puke.

But I guess there's no point looking back. Advertising is a small industry and I’m sure I’ll meet most of them again at some point or another. For now, I’m just gonna take a much needed rest. I know the next agency won’t be much different from this one. That’s just the way it is. The grass is about the same shade of green everywhere. But I’m looking forward to making more friends like the ones I’ve made here. It’s been said that even if the work is crap, the people you meet in advertising will more than make up for it. I’d say that’s true.

We entered the cage and panted like seals

It was proven last night that if you put a bunch of males in an enclosed area with a ball and anything that passes for goalposts, they will skitter around gleefully panting like seals in heat. We managed this for roughly 10 minutes before one dude was squatting down and another simply lay on the floor, no doubt taking a closer look at the fake grass.

All this stemmed from Gavin’s bright idea of playing football in The Cage yesterday. It’s really a futsal pitch except maybe a bit smaller and with an artificial grass surface. Pretty cool for a relaxing game of five-a-side. Except that we only had six players which meant it was three-a-side. Hence the panting.

There were goals galore as you’d expect from two teams blessed with divine defensive ineptitude. And all of them were tap-ins since, to make the game just a little more challenging, we were only allowed to shoot from within the penalty oval. Gavin scored a few and now thinks he’s a Football King. I hasten to add “Kong” judging from the way he flattened a few of us.

So anyway, the point of this post is to let all two of my readers know that if you fancy a bit of a pant, let me know. We play Tuesdays from 8pm to 9pm. Bring drinks and coins for the vending machines. Oh yes, and babes if you have them. We don’t wanna be wheezing testosterone without some females around, you understand.

My sides were split by this for some reason. Must be too much green tea.

Oh yes. And this as well.

Boots

This afternoon, I was tasked to write a headline for a pair of boots. “These are meant for the unconventional man.” the suit told me. And so I looked at the picture of one boot. And I looked some more. And my brain did a sort of Irish jig in my skull and decided that it was all an illusion and that closing my eyes would make the pain go away. But when I opened them, there it was. And again, and again, and again.

It appeared to be some type of cast. Not much different from what they’d put on you if you’d just broken your leg in two places. It also appeared to be what you’d buy if you were into cosplay and wanted to show the world how cool you looked as Rockman. How ironically perfect then that this pair of boots (and I use the term lightly) was targeted at the daring man who wanted to make a fashion statement. As far as I was concerned, the only target audience it could appeal to was blind people. No really, if this thing had appeared when we were still single-celled organisms, no creature would ever have developed eyes.

But as it is in my line of work, one must learn to look past the faults of the product and bring out the gems. Of course if there are none then, dammit, you’d jolly well find one. I have done this for phones that remind me of enemas and now I will do it for the boots. At this point though, I have only five lines. One of them is “It’s like walking around on your head.” Which it is. Because if you wore one of these out, you’d be better off with your face in the dirt.