Journal Entries
LEMMINGS.
Posted Feb 18, 2003
Posted by : s.pressobongo
why do they do it?
and why can't the combined ranks of modern science and the RSPCA come up with an appropriate anti-depressant for them?
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Latest reply: Feb 18, 2003
DO YOU KNOW THIS MAN...?
Posted Feb 18, 2003
Posted by : Major I. Sworter M & Ms (bag)
I was tootling down a Sarf London highstreet the other day in search of a tobacconist for my usual 2 ounces of dark shag, when I encountered a hooded young lad proudly bearing an exotic motif on his shirt. In lurid, almost post-modern ironic graffitti style lettering accompanied by a picture of a rather truculent looking dreadlocked chap were the words "Doctor Dre".
I politely enquired of the youngster whether this Doctor chappie was any relation to old Doc. Drey from the 9th Medical Corps, a medico I had regular dealings with in his weekly errmmm...'clinic' out in Borneo.
The young scamp rather rudely answered me with "Yo' don't know Jack Sheet" and brusquely relieved me of my wallet.
Now, my question is : Who is this Jack Sheet? Should I know him?
And even more pertinently, to the collective minds of this august board :
"Do any of you know Jack Sheet?"
I doubt it.
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Latest reply: Feb 18, 2003
ADSQUEAK
Posted Feb 18, 2003
Posted by : Major Ian Sworter MA Rs (bar)
Just been listening to the R4 waffle on Advertising. Of particular interest to me as I had a brief skirmish with the Puffery biz a few years back after my sudden 'departure' from the brigade.
A sinecure for ex-military johnnies in the '50's right up to the '80's, the Ad Agency Executive Position was the ideal haven for lying low, large expenses-paid lunches and... doing very little. I remember well an old agency colleague of mine, Murray Walker (yes him) popping his gleaming pate round the door on his odd day off from prattling on like a petrol-headed loon for Grandstand, only to put his feet up on the table, book lunch at St. James and pocket his monthly muzzumah. But I digress. The programme brought to mind an old army chum of mine, "Warty" Weatherall, and his unfortunate brush with Adland...
Poor old Warty was a martyr to his veruccas. The bane of his life during enforced marches in the Malaysian jungle, they just would not desert his poor unfortunate carcass. Between the veruccas, the TseTse flies and the shards of Bosch shrapnel swilling freely round his bonce, he was a desperate, rather unhinged, cove.
One fateful day in the Officers' Mess, Warty was perusing a copy of "Health & Efficiency" (a fitness magazine I believe) whilst quaffing on his fifteenth large G&T, when he saw an advert which read "Bazuka That Verucca!" Well, dear reader, you can guess the rest. The poor dimented Johnny had easy access to the armoury and the tankbuster did it's deadly job only too well. Slivers of poor old Warty, still bearing charred veruccas, were dangling from the Ungli-Bungli trees for months afterwards.
My question to this learned board is :
Since there are simple-minded souls, like Warty, only too susceptible to the black arts of Advertising's persuasive powers, and as Einstein posited that nothing could possibly be faster than the speed of light...Can you really not "get quicker than a Kwikfit-fitter"?
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Latest reply: Feb 18, 2003
hootoo voodoo
Posted Feb 15, 2003
day 1.
Bewilderment. A Brave New World that has such creatures in it.
Innit?
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Latest reply: Feb 15, 2003
SKIT ~ "The Diggler Lives on"
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