dab gab

Bye

2007-09-03T14:15:00.001+08:00

Guess this is the end.

Should I opt for a career in finance?

oops

2007-09-01T15:28:00.000+08:00

Well as you may have guessed. I was left with the hot potato.

Failed miserably and don't know how I will handle Monday. Somebody shoot me.

Desperate times call for...

2007-08-30T17:19:00.000+08:00

Well you guessed it the "open bar" was a failure. Except for the bar who made money off me and kept the drinks going for my officemates. Not the intended "prey" who never showed up. And that is how I came out with this sure-fire idea. Go on a manhunt. The targets are the "prey". Yup. If the "prey"will not come to me with bait, I will need to hunt my quarry down. So i devised several traps set in different locations. A net at the hairstyling salon. Since there is no such thing as an advert peep that is not vain. And for good measure I placed close circuit cams in select fashion stores. Jack Bauer would be proud.

I also set up some man-traps at some bars and regular advert peeps haunts. Traps everywhere and no holes. I'll be damned if I let someone go with only two days to go.

Hey, it ain't over 'til its over.

One more round

2007-08-29T17:46:00.000+08:00

Hehehe. This should get them good. How could any advertising person actually pass up the opportunity for free drinks. So I sent out an invite to all the advertising peeps out there to an open bar. All under the pretext of an out-of-this-world art exhibit. The two most irresistible things for an ad agency creative person - free alcohol abuse + pretentious artsy stuff.

It will be like shooting fish in a barrel.

Where am I?

2007-08-28T16:28:00.000+08:00

Ooops. Did I fall into a blackhole? I just woke up and it is pitch black. I am not at home. Try to remember what happened. Okay so I was busy doing something yesterday. What was it? What was I up to? And why do I have this throbbing headache. Like someone used my head for soccer practice.

Now what was I doing. It's fuzzy but I can now recall. I was "stalking" prey again. Yes, I am on that mission to tag someone. Okay, that seems plausible. So there I was trying to tag someone and then next thing I know I feel this pinch on my behind. I checked what it was and started to feel woozy as I pulled out a dart. OMG. I had been tranquilized. But where was I?

Where is that celphone? Aha here in my pocket. Now to cast some light on the... I am in the trunk of a car. Those bastards!

"Get me out of here," I was screaming at the top of my lungs as I pounded away at the trunk.

How I spent my entire Friday

2007-08-24T18:15:00.000+08:00

I was up in a tree. Literally. Or else I would be up the creek. It was quite soothing being away from work. Now I had the license to be. Because I was here to restore the Hot Shop's lost honor. I had to tag someone so I was camped up here and camouflaged. The whole day patiently waiting for my target to come out of the building. Waiting even if it rained earlier because I had an objective. I was on a mission.

It was going to be so worth the wait.

What's this? Damn. Who is pecking my face? Get away you pesky bird. God dammit. Argh!

PLOP.

Sh^&! Lost my balance and fell to the ground. Ouch. Jeez. My cover is blown.

From behind me was laughter. It was the peeps from the other Agency. They were watching me all the time. I am such a loser. No wonder no one came out of the building. They had me marked all along.

Back to the drawing board.

Da Plan

2007-08-23T23:46:00.000+08:00

So now it all made sense. This was that time of the year. The time when Ad Agency rivalry will take on a different level. With the "Agency Peeps Tag". Or "A.P.T.". Now how un-apt was that acronym?

The objective was to be able to make sure that the month would not end with the Agency one is with..left tagged. The consequence of which would be immeasurable shame the entire year. Albeit an "industry-imposed-for-no-real-reason" pariah status.

The problem is that all Agencies are prepared for any onslaught and have taken measures. That is why newbies like myself make good prey.

Now this "activity" is an age old tradition that began 5 years ago.

I was properly tagged in the sense that my face was covered in the bright hue that is the theme of the year. That is one way of getting tagged. The other is to tar and feather a opposing Agency peep. Another way is to tattoo an unsuspecting tush. Or shave the nether regions of another. Well, the list was endless. Yet one must be mindful of the theme. And this year it was "The House of Orange". But the key was also to make sure that the tagging incident lead to some sort of public spectacle with the announcement that they had been tagged.

So now I was up just thinking how to tag the next. What would the plan be? Hmmmm

a big mess

2007-08-22T10:42:00.000+08:00

As I was making my way into the parking lot in my trusty old 1960 Vespa, my companion throughout college and now my advertising life, I was smiling. Happy for the four-day weekend that was. How sweet was that? Two national holidays following the weekend.

Puttering into what would have been the usual parking slots for all vehicles of the less than four wheel variety, I parked "Sophia". Yes, she had a name like most vehicles that one grows attached to. I unslung my satchel from the rear and started to walk towards the building when...SPLAT!

I was covered in bright orange paint. A car sped off and had a sign on the rear window that read - "You have been tagged!" WTF? And they rolled down their windows as they flashed similar hand signals in unison. The classic index finger and thumb forming the letter "L" and on their foreheads.

What is going on?

Aspirin please

2007-08-17T11:33:00.000+08:00

Ouch. I feel like lead today. Can't seem to get out of bed. And my head is pounding. Could it be all those vodkas mixed with tequilas mixed with beers mixed with god knows what. Last night was a night with one of the image bank type suppliers and you know how that goes. Booze galore. Did not particularly help when I didn't have anything to eat. Went straight to my head.

I feel like puking. Maybe I should. I can still feel all that alcohol coursing through me.

Excuse me.

Your guess is as good as mine

2007-08-15T15:17:00.000+08:00

"Pink"

Breathless shook her head and stripped down to her underwear. Red polka dots on white! So un-her. My other guess would have been tiger stripes. Rowr. She really looked like she was playing us when she did the strip too. All that was missing was the token music for her to gyrate to.

Anyway, I too was down to my boxers. Playing this unusual guessing game with the members of the "destination committee" as we called ourselves.

The key was the one who could guess the color of the other's underwear would get to nominate a place. It was one of the few things we agreed to. A bit unorthodox yet we needed to make that decision for the set of the office. Plus it was kind of fun.

Breathless spotted Rubber Man trying to catch an eyeful through the conference room's glass window so she promptly shut the blinds. She peaked through it and waved him an "adios, pervie."

Are we there yet?

2007-08-14T17:44:00.000+08:00

Seems like choosing the next destination was no easier than the disease they had to endure last year. That is the problem when you put more than five agency people in one room to decide. Each one has their own opinion and the others obviously have the wrong one. Specially if it does not even remotely support their own.

That is why it is always much easier having The CG mediate. Or more accurately dictate where we are headed. But this was an activity that was reserved for the new and the junior.

Now we were merely deciding how to go about deciding and that was not getting anywhere.

The company trip

2007-08-13T18:16:00.000+08:00

We got assigned to take care of planning the next company outing. Last year I was told they all trekked up the Himalayas in order to use the opportunity to bond. What I am told it that more than half the office contracted some rare disease that had them defecating and vomiting on their way down from the Himalayas. A few were even airlifted out since they were rendered so weak by the affliction. It was still undetermined what they had all contracted but it certainly bonded them for life. They now are all walking timebombs with this ailment that would manifest itself every so often. So now they said the one consideration for the company trip would be to get all necessary vaccines known to man. Because they all still wanted their trip to be at a place most exotic. Now the task was where.

On an aside, Rubber Man would now fall in line every time he would enter the office. He would turn beet red when the security officers referred to him as "honey buns".

There's a time and place to go against the flow

2007-08-10T17:57:00.000+08:00

The bugging incident has once more gotten management all freaked. So they set-up little x-ray or scanning machines at every entrance and exit to make sure all people who come into the office were "clean". This made coming in and out a bit tedious. Yet, people were more than willing to toe the line given the picket incident was still fresh on everyone's mind. Thus not many would express dissent to this draconian measure. Well, not everyone except Rubber Man. Earlier in the day, he was not having any of this waiting in the line to get in so he attempted to bypass the system.

Immediately the guards took him down and hauled him off. They had to make sure he was "clean" so they snapped on their gloves and subjected him to a cavity search.

The whole day he was walking like he had something stuck up his...well you get the picture.

bugs?

2007-08-09T18:10:00.000+08:00

Nope I am not talking about the kind that crawls on all sixes on its belly and will inherit the earth in the event of a nuclear fallout. More like the the electronic type. Why would I mention bugs? Well it seems that we may have them. How so? Well we have some interns from Europe. They are in an advertising course and have chosen our Agency to be the place where they do their internship. One of them got an emergency call from back home in Germany and was talking on the phone to someone in the Fatherland in their native Deutsch when suddenly a stern voice butt in "English please." Oops not quite the smart bug.

Seems like the ones who sent the toilet submersible where up to their old tricks.

You can imagine now how the "sweepers" are combing our office. Coffeee time.

all's not well that ends not well

2007-08-08T19:24:00.000+08:00

So much for the short-lived pet picket. Everything returned to normal, or not so normal, here. The policy was not lifted and yesterday's incident did not help at all. If anything it created a rift between members of the agency team. There were two camps now. Better make that three. The pro-pets. The anti-pets. And the one's who couldn't give a rat's ass. I think I was the only one in the third camp. You should see how once hot gathering points such as the water coolers didn't need any more cooling. At least in as far as the silent treatment and cold shoulders were concerned. It was colder than a witches...(rhymes with hat).

Well at least I got more work done with less of the usual distractions as no one was feeling to sociable. In fact, the pros were had to keep very silent since The CG was not a happy camper. And he almost had a third nostril to prove why he shouldn't be.Who would have though a parakeet could inflict so much damage.

It got ugly

2007-08-07T19:08:00.000+08:00

It had gone from bad to worse in just a few minutes this afternoon. Apparently The Creative Guru had enough of the din that was going on thanks to the picketing pets. It was a zoo after all. And he had had enough of the wild life.

So he stepped out and started talking to the pets. Yet as trained as they were in the ways their "masters" they would not understand the language alien to them. And as patient as The CG appeared it was all futile.

The CG took a deep breath and sighed. He squatted low to be able to be at a level with the pets. A chicken moved close to him as if to listen and then pecked on his ear.

"HOLY F&%$!" The CG screamed. This startled the pets and while some scampered away the others jumped him. The monkeys started to claw at him and some birds did what birds best (you must have recalled the movie of the same title).

the line

2007-08-06T11:52:00.000+08:00

How could I not have expected this? The one time people start coming in early to The Hot Shop is the day it turns into a circus. Literally. This time the pet activist have escalated their demonstration. Right in front of the office was a picket line. But the ones picketing were - you guessed it - pets. Dogs, cats, and even the odd fish, rat, snake, bird and more had taken the line. The only ones not moving along with the line were a chia pet and a rock. But they did have their demonstration slogans. The pet rock held a "Pets are people too" sign.

Now are they being exploited by their owners? Am fairly certain that they aren't incognizant of the policy. Well, it was a statement.

One parrot was perched on a pile of boxes and had a megaphone strategically placed in front of it. It would occasionally squawk statements denouncing what it called an inhumane policy. Kudos to its owner for a weekend well-spent with some owner-to-pet quality time.

The parrot would also express its discontent as the pigeons would and defile those who dared cross the line.

"We do not parrot the company line," said the parrot.

Animal rights? Human rights?

2007-08-03T14:52:00.000+08:00

"Can you please sign this petition?" the nameless copywriter down the hall asked me as I was going through another endless list of name studies. Believe me, advertising is not all glamor. Well maybe 90% of the time it is. Just kidding. It really isn't as glamorous as it is made out to be. It is hard work. Even if most of which is play. But I digress.

"What is it for?" I queried.

"Well, to repeal the new policy prohibiting pets in the office."

"Why should I sign?" I genuinely inquired since I was no animal hater but after yesterday's incident realized that there was a time and place for these pets.

"To help us preserve our god-given rights."

Uh, how did God come into the picture? The nameless copywriter abruptly looked back as there was a cacophony of dogs barking from the lobby. Along with other bestial sounds. What could it be now?

So we rushed to the lobby to see what was happening.

And there stood Breathless and her cohorts in silent protest. They were completely naked save for a pet or two covering their naughty bits. I must say that Breathless had a cute navel ring on her tight little tummy. It was a little puppy head. Lucky puppy.

Glorious coffee

2007-08-02T17:31:00.000+08:00

Ah the coffee break. Let your mind rest for a bit. De-stress with stimulation in a cup. Relax and chat with your colleagues about anything but work. Or that dreaded work-out earlier.

I was there at the small coffee table in the lobby of The Hot Shop. Great lengths had been undertaken to simulate an outdoor coffee shop ambiance around this indoor office coffee place. There were panels that had actual moving traffic. Here you could watch the digital world pass. The beauty of modern tech. They configured huge panel-like LCD screens to play a looped digitally recorded scene. And it was time sensitive too. It played the right time of day. Even the ambient sounds were well timed and had that busy metropolis street feel. Cars honking. Pedestrian chatter. You name it, it had it. If you didn't know better, it felt just like you weren't in an office.

Hello. This is new. They spliced in a bit of footage of a little doggy pooing on the street. How interesting. Such detail.

"Poopsie are you there?" Breathless was calling out from behind me. "Oh there you are, you naughty puppy!" It wasn't part of the digital loop apparently. Breathless' dog really did take a potty break here thinking it was the street.

"Oopsie poopsie. So sorry." Breathless looked my way.

Wondering why, I gazed where she looked, which was downward, and realized. Oh Crap.

That's the spirit

2007-08-01T14:55:00.000+08:00

We were waiting for the clients to respond to the campaigns we had presented.

Well, it wasn't going to be as quick as we thought. Why? They were busy consulting with the spirit world. Never realized how those who were not among us were actually influencing the outcome of the campaign. If that were the case we should've just presented directly to them using a medium? Am sure we would have found several mediums up to the task. As long as we paid the right amount.

So there we were seated in silence as the wafts coming from the incense irritated my nostrils. It was pretty funky having to sit there mid afternoon as the client team sat with their eyes closed and hands on the glass over the ouija board. They were heavy in concentration.

The room was unlit as the blinds were drawn. Needless to say the meeting had an eerie feel to it.

Movement of the glass was practically nil for over 45 minutes. The spirits appeared to be on coffee break. Then suddenly the glass jerked. It drew the hands on it abruptly from letter to letter. It was quick as it spelled out: N-O.

The head of marketing then looked at us and said, "Guys, you know what that means."

Back to the drawing board. Should've paid for those mediums.

How can one be expected to argue with the dead?

One hundred and five....one hundred and six...

2007-07-31T16:16:00.000+08:00

Oh it wasn't just me being punished by the trainers from hell. It was my workout partner as well. They reckoned a group punishment was in order. She was now glaring at me like I killed her mother. I am dead both ways - from the workout and from her wrath.

What made matters worse was that she was assistant to head of the ...gulp...Finance department. A force that can never be taken for granted. They wield a different kind of power. There were stories going around of the producer that went insane after he decided to cross their path. To date the producer is claimed to be wandering the halls of an asylum muttering, "should've done that timesheet...should've done that timesheet.."

Is life going to get more cruel than this?

Stepping out of the closet

2007-07-30T17:11:00.000+08:00

It was possibly worse than having to be doing all those crunches as punishment. Now, I was being treated at the company clinic for rat bites. Seems like the rats wised up to my trick and saw the pattern. So before I knew it today I was part of their buffet. More appropriately I was the buffet.

"No Pain. No Gain," the nurse who looked like an ex-KGB interrogator laughed as she stabbed my posterior with a HUGE injection. I whimpered in pain. If only I had worked out those glutes.

As I stepped out of the clinic with my ego deflated by the injection needle it was further trampled on by the time I got back to The Hot Shop. Upon entering I was greeted with all-knowing smirks from the other staff who were looking pretty fresh and fit from another healthy day with the trainers. I looked like a poor sod who was hiding in the pantry and was turned into live rat bait.

Is the coast clear?

2007-07-27T16:58:00.000+08:00

Boy it is dank in here. And I wouldn't want to think what that was that seemed like it was nibbling on my shoe. Will give it a few more minutes. Thank god for wi fi.

Shhhh

2007-07-27T15:06:00.000+08:00

I just realized that the dreaded 4 o'clock work out was looming so I hid here. I was in the pantry. But to make sure no one would find me I would hide underneath the sink. It was like a small closet yet it was a hell of a lot better to camp in this cramp space then to have to submit to the gym gestapo.

The clock was ticking and others tried to find their own hiding spot. One went to the toilet cubicles and locked herself in and sat on the toilet set in such a way that you wouldn't see her feet. This would easily be found out by the storm troopers. They were actually not that dumb. Even if they looked it. And you couldn't imagine the punishment for those caught. 650 crunches!

Mine was pretty well sorted out. I would hide behind the boxes of detergent products and hope no one would rat me out.

Drumroll please

2007-07-26T15:59:00.000+08:00

And MILF 1 won the cage match. Therefore the one to be adopted is Orphan 1, who we now coincidentally called Juan.

It was interesting as we saw every imaginable move along with the unimaginable.

Oh no. Here come the workout Nazis. Gotta go.

A healthy mind

2007-07-25T16:30:00.000+08:00

You know what they say about the healthy mind and body. Well, now they took it all to heart here at The Hot Shop. For now at least. The contention was that we would take ourselves to the next creative level if we broke out of our routine and pushed ourselves. Makes sense until you place a bunch of inactive souls together and make them behave like gym rats. But time will tell.

So starting today. The sacred time between 4 pm and 5 pm would be dominated by our company personal trainers. Groups of two would share trainers who set-up camp in various sections of the agency. Workout stations were scattered around the agency in some chaotic circuit training fashion.

Why didn't they email us it would start today. Exercising in non-gym gear is such a hassle. Just ask the girls who came in stilettos.

It's a tie!

2007-07-24T14:17:00.000+08:00

OMG. who would have thought it possible. The online reality show with the orphan ended today in a deadlock. The fates are cruel indeed.

So we decided a tie-breaker was needed. So what we had set-up was a special cage match involving the MILFs. They would be tied or rather handcuffed together on both their right hands and would be tasked to strip each other. The first one to expose muff would actually lose.

Don't worry the orphans will be blindfolded the entire time.

This would obviously involve strategy on the MILFs part.

Can so imagine the viewership of the show to spike. It will be on only for the duration of the match midday tomorrow. So keep tabs on www.milfstripmatch.com.

Err..pardon me?

2007-07-23T15:25:00.000+08:00

I was sitting by my desk drumming up some taglines for the new campaign. The CG said I needed to work on no less that a thousand in one afternoon. So I had the trusty thesaurus.com on screen and was writing like mad. I personally prefer the romance of longhand. The intimacy between pen and paper and mind. Then I was startled. Someone said 'excuse me'. But there was no one there. It felt like I heard it in my head.

Am I imagining thing? So I thought - who was that? am I hearing things?

Again no one and I heard in my head a 'me.' Then I saw the cleaning lady standing behind me. It couldn't have been I shook my head.

'Excuse me,' again I heard in my head. She was speaking telepathically. No way I thought.

'That's okay. It can do that for some' she spoke again in my head.

I recalled them saying that she was in fact mute. So I slid my chair back so she could get my waste basket filled with crumpled up tagline rejects.

Rubber Man walked in and saw my perplexed look and said, "I see you just met 'Headjob'".

Hello? Hello?

2007-07-22T00:25:00.000+08:00

It was an interesting night at the poetry reading. There was this neo techno web poet I always wanted to hear. In fact, I had waited to hear her for over a year. This was one of the rare occasions the recluse would grace the readings.

Just as she walked on stage I could feel my phone which was set on silent vibrate. I didn't pay much attention to it. It could wait. But whoever it was wouldn't let up.

So I checked to see who it was.

It was The CG.

I wondered why he was calling? So I had to work my way out past the peeps squatting on the floor and got some nasty looks as I stumbled over a few. Several akward 'excuse mes' were dispensed to appease the evil looks. Even the poet couldn't help but show her ire.

Then when I eventually got outside through the backdoor into the alley I picked up.

"Hello," I answered.

"Why weren't you picking up?"

"Oh I wasn't near my phone," I lied.

"Well make sure it is always by your side."

"Ok. Uh, why did you call?" was my polite reply.

"Nothing. Just checking if your phone is working. Good bye."

I tried to get back in from the alley but the door was shut so I had to walk past some dumpsters, homeless peeps and even climb a wire fence to get back to the front. It was an obstacle course but I managed after a bit.

By the time I found my way back in the short reading was over. It was amazing I was told. Not for me I guess.

Hot update

2007-07-20T10:11:00.000+08:00

Yesterday was very interesting.

We were all rounded up and some "questioned" by a para-military group the management hired to investigate the explosion. That explains why I was out of touch most of the day. It took up much of the day as the Mossad wannabes tried all sorts of non-intrusive interrogation tactics. Of course they couldn't employ the standard methods so they too had to get creative. For example, with Rubber Man they held him down and forced him to watch period Richard Simmons workouts and Oprah. You could hear his agonizing screams down the hallway. As this ensued, the rest of us hoped we wouldn't have to undergo the terror.

Obviously they were trying to see who was in cahoots with the perpetrators of the incident.

From what I could piece together it was a mini spy cam that came in the form of a mini sub. It made its way up from the sewer and was awaiting a pick-up from a "mole". Just to handle something like that from our infamous toilet must have commanded a ridiculous price. But due to some glitch, it set of a spark upon surfacing. That combined with the methane build up from someone who came from the Mexican restaurant down the street was an explosive mix. Remind me not to go for the "Chili Mucho Mucho Grande" next time.

Life as we know it

2007-07-18T10:46:00.000+08:00

As I prep for work, more like camping out by the coffee shop, I realized how 'net dependent we have become. In fact yesterday the connection dropped so we were literally "in the dark". No email. No way to research. No games to dick around with. I was afraid we would have to use, egad, books.

Well we did a lot of brainstorming as a consequence and a lot of goofing off too. Now there is that narrow line between the two.

Yet, there is still no news regarding the "explosion" aside from the fact that it happened in the toilet.

And finally Rubber Man did show up so all suspicion around him was dispelled. Deep down inside though, I was hoping he was caught right smack in the middle of the toilet blast. I wasn't so lucky.

The online adoption reality show or whatever it was now called was moved to a motel.

But now I must get ready for another day in the life of...

The plot thickens

2007-07-16T17:49:00.000+08:00

Still no word as we are working here in the coffee shop. The CG was obviously irritated. He couldn't hold office with the chaos of the coffee shop. Even if the Hot Shop had closed it for the day. So management got him a suite in one of the spa like hotel cum resorts on the bay. We would have to be shuttled there to present ideas we were informed by memo.

There seems to be an ongoing investigation as police have cordoned off the area.

What surprises will this week have?

2007-07-16T00:44:00.000+08:00

Well as I now am starting to see everyday at the Hot Shop is one filled with wonder and amazement. Is the sarcasm dripping now? Anyway, thanks to the unforseen explosion the entire place was shut down for investigation Friday and we had to conduct work from the coffee shop across the street. To say it was an inconvenience was putting it mildly. Needless to say we were all left in the dark. Much speculation arose but far be it for me to actually place credence on assumptions I will hold off until we get the complete picture tomorrow. Or should I say later in the day.

Still, the thing that remained curious through it all was the conspicuous absence of Rubber Man last Friday at the coffee shop. We shall see.

SFX unlimited

2007-07-12T16:39:00.000+08:00

Briefing the voice talent for the radio ad was entertaining in itself. He was a virtual human sound effects archive. He came in to introduce himself earlier to me care of the radio production dude (who was a bit of a character as well but we'll save that for later). We would be using him for the radio ad we intended to produce late next week and this was an informal briefing to prep for the pre-production meeting with client at earlier next week.

We were sitting in conference as the SFX man spoke. His voice seemed so out of place with his person. He was a slight man. Almost comical in fact. And he had this booming voice that seemed to come from nowhere and had that "god-like" feel.

The entire meeting was trying to go through a range of human generated effects.

"So can you do a machine gun fire?" I asked.

And he gave the best sounding performance of a machine gun nest engaged in mortal combat. Complete with Japanese WWII holdouts in the background. It must have been mock-nippongo. From too much anime? Or bukake?

"How about a whale in heat?" Like I would know the difference.

Then he burst into whale song. It was that high pitched and tinny sounding yet freaky and alien-like audal effect. Then climaxed suddenly to a horrid explosion!

But it didn't come from SFX man. He too was obviously stunned. It came from the bathroom area.

And soon it was followed by the worst stench imaginable.

The bio shredder

2007-07-11T18:57:00.000+08:00

"Owwwwww." Rubber Man and I were moaning in unison as we gripped our aching stomachs. Who would have thought advertising would be so physically taxing. We were sitting on our chairs yet curled up like little balls.

It was all due to that briefing we had with the planner at the conference room. All for project "Unilevel". After that highly secretive meeting where we were all speaking in hushed tones, as if a nosy neighbor was eavesdropping, we were told to dispose of our briefs. Since they didn't believe in shredders in this office, we had to take an early dinner made up of a high cellulose meal. We took the brief and started munching away at it. It could have used a bit of pepper.

Now were were suffering the effects of the 10-page report. Only way to get rid of it was to make it pass. Literally.

"Hope you didn't swallow the staples," Breathless cooed as she passed by our suffering selves.

You are what you wear

2007-07-10T18:42:00.000+08:00

I was seated across Rubber Man as we were brainstorming more ideas for the MILF with hapless adoptees online reality show. And while this was all going on we had work in the pipeline. Apparently the radio ad I presented was approved by the client. Well the concept at least. Now I had to adjust it against some of the comments client saw fit to add on to an already tight 30 second ad. That, plus the planner calling us for another meeting tomorrow regarding the comprehensive report his roach squad had on the "huge" manufacturer called project "Unilevel". Well, okay it was more his report since the roach squad were mere minions. Practically robots.

Now back to the business at hand. The MILF adventure.

As we were discussing ideas I couldn't help but notice Rubber Man's shirt. It was one of those idiotic shirts with an equally idiotic caption. It read "I'm good in bed" in bold type. And below it in extremely fine print was "I sleep all day." What is it with this shirts? Just yesterday as I was grabbing a quick bite at the mall a large toothless old lady with equally large saggy mammaries was grinning at me with a shirt that read "I am horny. Are you?". Not anymore.

You see more and more of these everyday. And they are so...well that could be it. Limited edition MILF shirts. With their actual boobies. Am sure we can use these as prizes to draw votes.

So I asked Rubber Man what he thought of it.

"I hate it," he said.

More bull

2007-07-09T19:53:00.000+08:00

We have had the adoption reality show for around a couple of days and still no one actually voted for which kid The CG should adopt. How will we possibly get participation? Well the MILFs though have their own fan base. Even when they sit around in their underwear not doing anything they keep getting hits. How can we possibly tie their popularity, or rather notoriety, to the voting of the adoptees.

Rubben Man and I were engaged in a brainstorm for that explicit reason. For once I was glad his dirty mind was involved. Aside from the mud wrestling, he was able to come up with the mechanical bull lingerie ride. All the bouncing alone made me dizzy. And I wasn't even on the bull. What was more fascinating was when Rubber Man in all his bravado got on the bull exclaiming how he was such an expert he could ride without holding on. The MILFs giggled. That was the most intelligent thing they had said since I had met them.

He got on. In less than two seconds he was off and right on top of MILF 2 who was giggling incessantly. What could have been so funny. Only they would know.

So what to do. What to do.

In pain

2007-07-06T17:17:00.000+08:00

My aching body. Just a couple of weeks on the job and already I am down for the count. Here I was lying in bed like some sick dog. I had no idea what caused it. I was pretty much okay yesterday. And then this morning I was hurling like a olympic hammer thrower on steroids. What caused it?

All I recall taking yesterday was the regular crap fastfood. And if there was something off I would have noticed it. Plus by now I am already immune to any of the vile stuff in it.

Holy S***. Now I know. At some point Rubber Man dared me to take on one of the MILFs. Before I could say anything one suddenly grabbed me and tossed me into the pit. That's when I got a mouthful of mud. Now I realize it wasn't mud. Because we later saw one of the kids on the edge with his backside to the pit. He was doing number two. Gross.

I think I am going to hurl.

Then the phone rang.

"Hello. Where is that radio script that was supposed to be on my desk today?" asked The CG.

"Didn't they tell you I called in sick today?"

"They did. But you still have that deadline. Make sure I get it before day's end."

"Yes." I gave my assent and he hung up.

When reality isn't as real

2007-07-05T15:47:00.000+08:00

Remember how the other project I was working on was actually the online reality show to help The CG decide which child to adopt. Well, we were looking at the idea and it was a little flat. It needed that extra push. People weren't going to stay hooked on a site that had two kids on webcam the whole day. Unless they were weirdos into kiddie...well you get the picture. Disgust-O-rama.

Yet at the same time this was the key. Sex sells online. Even offline for that matter.

So we prepared two MILFs to live in the room with the kids for a week. They were the draw. The feature for today was mud wrestling. Interesting since you could actually direct each MILF move. Now the "moves" would be shown on some big screen. The lucky fan who gets his/her "move" chosen by the complex software system would see it performed in real time. And get www bragging rights, of course.

Rubber Man was busy making sure the bikinis were tied just a bit loosely.

The report

2007-07-04T16:57:00.000+08:00

The field report of the cockroach recon team was partially in. We were getting the initial readings.

The stealthy roaches had infiltrated the the inner sanctum of a huge FMCG company we shall call "Unilevel". Of course, we had to make sure that we spoke in code. It was the way of advertising I was told. It was to protect our secrets too. You never know. The opposition may have their own method of espionage. Bugged geckos perhaps?

We were in the conference room as the initial report was being "downloaded" to us by the planner. From what he could gather, the incumbent agency was having trouble cracking the communications for a major brand for this entity we coded as "Unilevel". The brand in question was suffering and the Marketing Head was literally on the block. The communication it appeared was flawed. This was our opportunity to swoop in. The law of the jungle is very much alive in the advertising world. Eat or be eaten.

This is exciting.

If all else fails

2007-07-03T15:54:00.000+08:00

To learn more about the target market the planner would normally get into the minds of the consumer. Even the competition. Yes, as you already know he could literally get into their minds. As well as forsee the short-term future.

Yet his "sixth sense" or "second sight" as he called it was far from perfect. As explained, it was a side-effect related to an unforseen transfer of data from a higher intelligence into an lesser intelligence. Okay, before you start screaming that we aren't lesser intelligence, think of it this way, I don't quite see us going to other planets and employing advanced research techniques on its hapless creatures. He analogized his predicament to having a super processor placed in an old Univac. You could get better speeds but sometimes the system would crash since it was unsuited for it.

Obviously, the shamanesque ritual did not quite yield what was desired.

So he had a back-up. Trained cockroaches that carried little hidden cameras in them.

Interestingly, he picked up that microengineering and insect subordinating knowledge as well in some of the mothership probe transfer. This allowed him to look into the lives of the consumers as well as eavesdrop on the competition.

Now again it wasn't 100% foolproof. A stomp happy foot or a trigger happy sprayer would normally be the pitfalls.

Now, have you ever wondered where most internet scandal videos come from?

Serenity

2007-07-02T17:20:00.000+08:00

Ah the peace and quiet.

Finally, Rubber Man had learned his lesson. For now at least. And he was not bothering me anymore. I think the public cuffing had helped sort him out. He wasn't speaking to me at all. I can only hope that this lasts longer than a few days. Glorious days where all I would get from him are curt and professional replies.

This was helping as well since we needed to now come up with the online reality show mechanics The CG is making our pet project. It will be for the selection of the child he and his partner would adopt. No one could crack the decision last week so The CG has decided to place the fate of the two children to whims of the vast cyberworld.

Actually, I somewhat suggested the reality show idea earlier today and it seemed at first that The CG was not listening then suddenly The CG blurted out, "I have an idea - Online Reality Show." Was there an echo? For The CG there was none. He tended to hear himself and just himself a lot.

Now, how to work that program.

Still cuffed

2007-06-30T10:13:00.000+08:00

Looks like I fell asleep and Rubber Man woke up ahead of me. I caught him drawing a fake mustache on me with a marker pen he had in his pocket the whole time.

He was giggling. (Very funny)

"Someone's coming," Rubber Man bolted up and it yanked me suddenly into a contortionist position I was never aware I could perform.

The janitor walked in and exclaimed, "Oh. You missed your deadline. Anyway, the key is right here." And he pulled out a set of keys that were in a potted cactus that was beside us the whole time.

After freeing us the janitor left and said, "Have a good weekend."

Hello

2007-06-30T00:59:00.000+08:00

My phone was going off and I fumbled to get it out of my pants. These damn cuffs and sleeping beauty were not helping.

"Hello," I said as I clumsily picked up the phone.

"Where are you? You sound stressed," The CG replied from the other end.

"Uhm we are still cuffed to the pillar," I answered.

"Oh you are still there?" The CG said.

"Yes we are." (Was he kidding? Where would we go?)

"Okay. It's easy to get out of the cuffs. All you have to do is..."

Suddenly I heard a beeping. Beep Beep Bee...My phone's battery died. Shit.

When will this end?

2007-06-29T18:33:00.000+08:00

Still handcuffed and Rubber Man is snoring away.

Hope he doesn't get a sudden call from nature.

Tarred and feathered

2007-06-29T12:57:00.000+08:00

How humiliating.

Rubber Man and I presented to The CG this noon and were shot down for the last time.

"I gave you more than enough time to work on generating an idea for the campaign. Just one good idea would have done. And all I got were ideas that were far worse than crap," The CG said in a calm monotone and added, "I am left with no alternative then."

And then we got the "punishment". We were taken to the lobby and were handcuffed to each other next to a pillar. In a most compromising position too. None of the passers-by had to say anything but you tell just what they were thinking. Silent laughter is the worst.

Yet, in spite of this Rubber Man was being the usual ass.

"You did it didn't you?"

And the beat goes on

2007-06-28T23:58:00.000+08:00

"You did it!"

"No."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

Rubber Man was still at it.

"Did too."

Screw this I am not going to answer. Damn we were supposed to be wrapping up that presentation for tomorrow and still he wouldn't let up. I could actually see him mouthing out "did too" now.

We had spent the greater part of the day engaged in this highly intelligent one-sided discussion of his that we hadn't accomplished much. Well that wasn't quite right. We did get our ideas shot down a lot. That's what we accomplished. In fact we had presented close to sixty or so campaigns (I lost count after 45) and everytime it was the same thing. We would walk into The CG's office he would look up. We would sit down and present. After which The CG would look down. And that was our polite cue to leave. And then it was back to the drawing board. And that is where we were right now.

"You did didn't you."

And this wasn't helping any. We were supposed to crack this before noon tomorrow and here I get to babysit this middle-aged degenerate. In the middle of the night too. Somebody shoot me.

The smear campaign

2007-06-28T17:11:00.000+08:00

"So how is your art director holding up?" Breathless was referring to Rubber Man. She seemed to relish the fact that he was going bonkers trying to find out what we did last Friday. And if led to some bizarre sex ritual. He was one of those that just had to know. Always sticking his nose and condoms where they weren't welcome.

"You can guess," I replied as we stood at the hallway.

She caught me earlier as I was coming out of the little creative boy's room and she was rounding the corner from one of the conference rooms. She came from a meeting with the client from hell she explained. And said how soon I would get to meet this client. Whoopee, I thought.

"Yes I can. He is such an easy target," she remarked with a naughty grin.

Then she suddenly pulled me close to her and caught me in a lip-lock.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw why she did this. Rubber Man was a few meters away. He was stunned and had coffee spilled all over his shirt. Oops.

As she pulled away she had a mock look of satisfaction and whispered, "Easy."

The energizer bunny keeps on going

2007-06-27T15:39:00.000+08:00

"So did you or didn't you," Rubber Man asked again for the Nth time this week.

"Nothing happened," I replied.

"No way. You are lying," Rubber Man said in obvious disbelief. Whatever I told him he wouldn't believe anyway.

"Nope nothing happened."

"I can tell you are lying. Your eyes give you away," Rubber Man insisted.

It was pointless. He was at it for three days already and refused to take no for an answer. In fact I had said "yes" once to make him give up but then he kept asking for the gory details. So I told him I had lied to shut him up.

"C'mon did you?"

And just as Rubber Man had barely finished his sentence Breathless came from behind him, sauntered up to me and whispered in my ear, "Let's drive him bananas." And as surreptitiously as she had wafted in she left with a wink. I couldn't help but grin.

Naughty girl, I though to myself.

"I knew it," exclaimed Rubber Man.

The best laid plans

2007-06-26T17:17:00.000+08:00

We were seated around the conference room like it was a big powwow. Literally. The table had been moved aside and we were seated in some big circle. In the center of that circle of 20 odd creative and suits was The Planner. As if he were some shaman.

It was a ritual I was told. The Planner had a gift. The reason he was so astute, it was claimed, was because he abducted by aliens. I know it sounds preposterous but someone pointed at what I first thought was a birthmark on his nape and it was said to be where the probe was inserted. Now what other probes and experiments took place in the mothership I wouldn't know. Nor would I care to know. The mere thought of being treated like a cosmetic company lab rat by little green men gives me the creeps.

Now here was the funny thing. Apparently, the side effect of the entire interstellar adventure was that The Planner got some sort of sixth sense. He could see what others couldn't into the short term future. This is what The Hot Shop banked on for development of strats and directing pitches. Identifying market trends and pulling one over the competing agencies.

But here lies the caveat. He was only 60% effective.

So the goal had always been to replicate the scenarios where he last had the most effective vision. Hence the Native American Shaman like atmosphere now.

Am so glad I wasn't here when they had the chicken blood-letting orgy last month.

Eenie Meanie Miney...

2007-06-25T16:09:00.000+08:00

"So did you do it or not?" Rubber Man whispered discretely to me as we were in The CGs office.

I glared at him as if to keep him quiet. If The CG caught us engaged in this locker room banter it wouldn't be good. The CG's personal assistant or "the gatekeeper" as he called her had informed us that we were being summoned for an important internal meeting.

"Was she good? Details man," Rubber Man persisted. He had been on the subject since he got into the office about an hour ago and just wouldn't let up.

I gave him the big silent "SHHH!" stare and yet he wouldn't give up. Nudging, poking, badgering me and all. He was taking advantage of the fact that The CG had his eyes shut as if in deep meditation. He had them closed for the past 45 minutes or so as we sat there silently. (Except for not so silent "you-know-who")

"C'mon man," Rubber Man implored, "Just let me..."

He stopped because he saw The CG's eyes suddenly pop open. The CG seemed illumined as the sun cast its ray on him through a window that afforded a picturesque view of the city. He had an epiphany.

"Team." We all leaned slightly forward to listen closely. "You must help me choose which child to adopt."

Midnight Special

2007-06-24T02:30:00.000+08:00

My phone woke me up. It rang and rang. Who the hell would be calling me up at this hour of the night?

I checked and it was The CG. Why would he be calling me up? At this time and on a weekend.

So I picked up the cellphone and answered it, "Hello?"

"It's me," The CG said. (As if I didn't have caller ID)

"Yes? Is there something I can do for you?"

"Nothing really. I just wanted to see if my phone was working," The CG replied, "Have a good night."

"Uh you too."

"Okay, bye now. And don't stay up too late. You need your rest for the busy week ahead," and The CG hung up.

T.G?I.F.

2007-06-22T15:35:00.000+08:00

Wow. Has it been a week already?

And here I was with Breathless and her art director/friend at my desk. Breathless was sitting on the corner of my desk as her mousy teammate seemed to be hiding behind her like a shadow. All the while Rubber Man was leering behind my back. You kindda get a sixth sense when it comes to hormonal changes in the atmosphere. Specially with sudden surges. It was like getting huge disgusting gobs of testosterone pushing me from behind.

"Soz y@ w@nn@ join us for 'h@ppy hour' tonight?" Breathless asked me not so coyly. Shadow tried to smile but somehow realised she didn't know how to.

"Sure," I replied. Always good to make friends in the workplace I reckoned. Plus I doubt she would pull the asphyxiation stunt at a bar. Unless I poo-pooed her ideas.

Rubber Man interjected,"What about me honey, aren't you gonna invite me?"

Breathless continued as if Rubber Man was not even present, "Soz we meet y@ @t the lobby...s@y 8ish?"

I smiled assent as Rubber Man interrupted, "So are you in leopard skin today tigress? Rowr."

Breathless and her Shadow played deaf and turned to leave. With her back turned to us Breathless let out a, "See y@ l@ter newbz. Gotz t@ bre@k y@ in."

Rubber Man grinned at me as he had his right pointer making repeated entry motions into a little circle made with his left thumb and pointer. "Action time," he said.

Every breath you take

2007-06-21T16:04:00.000+08:00

I didn't know if I was supposed to be amused or alarmed. Well everyone was not paying her any mind anyway. The copywriter next to me whispered, "She always does this."

Staring at her won't particularly help I guess. She was obviously trying to get attention. But I couldn't help it. She was actually turning blue. If she really was holding her breath it was now close to 3 minutes. Wow. She must have been a pearl diver in a previous life. Or could it have been due to decades of practice?

"When she doesn't get her way with ideas you can expect this to happen. Never fails," my neighboring copywriter explained and added, "but she never learns. The Guru will stand his ground."

It all started as we were in an internal presentation taking The Creative Guru through our ideas. When Breathless presented hers The CG merely shook his head in dissent. She argued in support of her concepts. The CG simply shook his head and with a wace of a hand signalled the next sacrificial lamb to start. Breathless said maturely that she would hold her breath if The CG did not let her concepts see the light of day.

"Would you say she is a shade off Pantone 284?" The art dude with the condom collection chided. (From now on I shall call him - Rubber Man)

After a full 4 and a half minutes Breathless collapsed to the ground.

Some scurried to grab some water. As the others left the room, Rubber Man lifted her velvet mini to sneak a peek. As if that would revive her.

"Nice. Think she has a 'brazilian'?" Rubber Man looked up at me.

The rubber man

2007-06-20T16:45:00.000+08:00

"I got this on a trip to the Mongolian steppes. Well it isn't really Mongolian but comes from China. As you can see," the art dude was fascinated showing me a condom with a little Chairman Mao on the tip, "it isn't something old Genghis would have placed on the royal staff as he spread the Mongol culture." He stared fondly at his prized little red rubber in a little red foil.

We were supposed to be drumming up ideas for the new campaign and he was showing me his entire condom collection. There was one made by the Masai that he claimed was too small for him, one from Latin America with a little sombrero, a curious joke condom from Belgium with the little pissing boy, well you get the gist. Some collect stamps I had to be teamed up with the guy who collected prophylactics.

Would we ever get back to what we were supposed to be doing? Instead of having to go through "show and tell" with this middle-aged art dude who thinks he is from the disco era (even if he was obviously sucking his thumb at the height of that period) with his slicked back hair,'burns and manicured 'stache.

The art dude continued, "Oh wait 'til I show you my used collection."

No sleeping beauty

2007-06-19T15:56:00.000+08:00

"Make-up, sweepy dead. Make-up."

"Uhmmm. Can I have five more minutes, mom," I muttered half asleep.

"Make-up, sleepy head."

(Holy Fuck, I fell asleep on my desk and The Creative Guru was nudging me awake)

"Better wipe that spittle off. You have a briefing. So be in my room in five."

(Shit. Caught sleeping on the job. And on my second day too)

I got up and collected myself.

Working in different time zones

2007-06-19T11:46:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, I thought it was a fluke. Today, I am thinking it is a pattern. We worked until 5am earlier today. Straight from yesterday mind you. So I was only able to get back to my apartment by 6. Caught around 2 hours of ZZZZZs. But you know how hard it is to try and sleep when your mind is racing. Then before I knew it the alarm goes off. So I bolt out of bed and rush to get my entire 1 hour morning ritual crammed in 5 minutes. A feat perfected in college. Yet, I prayed to the porcelain gods that "you know who" wouldn't suddenly have to "you know what" on the way. It would have been an explosive disaster. And while wearing my man thong too (info we can keep to ourselves).

I then scrambled to The Hot Shop to get there by 8am. You can't imagine how many traffic violations I had made just to get to work.

In my mad dash I barely made it. 7.58. Whew.

Now it is almost noon and guess what - No one is here. Oh except for my new friend the barrista.

I think I shall try and catch some more ZZZZZZs.

The Creative Guru graces The Hot Shop

2007-06-18T18:05:00.001+08:00

Finally he arrives.

"Oh. I hope you weren't waiting too long."

"No not really,"I lied (Or maybe it wasn't quite a lie. One could argue that "long" is relative. What's 9 hours or so in the grand cosmic scheme of things.)

"Come. Come," he beckoned.

As we walked into The Hot Shop I couldn't help but notice he had two children in tow. The Creative Guru then explains, "Oh, don't mind them. My life partner and I are looking to adopt another child and I am giving these two a test run. The lucky one gets to be part of our growing family. Come, come, little ones"

I did recall in a recent industry magazine article that they did indeed have adopted several children. Twenty two, I believe. All of which they started adopting just about a year ago.

"But this too is my growing family," The Creative Guru gestured as trotted down the hallowed halls of The Hot Shop.

Hello?

2007-06-18T10:48:00.000+08:00

Strange. I have been sitting here at the lobby for 3 hours. Still no one from the creative team is here. Was I too eager to have come in really early? At least what appears as early by The Hot Shop's independent clock.

Well I do recall having asked what time work starts and The Creative Guru said it was 8am. Now if I were in custodial services, maybe. Because aside from the guy who came in 2 hours earlier to take out the trash (Oh and it was some trash heap too - bottles of vodka were strewn all over the floor) and the barrista who set-up the coffee bar there was no one. I have seen ghost towns more happening than this.

Oh yes, back to that coffee bar. Since I had gotten up so early and have all this idle time counting the elevators whizzing past I have already had several cups. In fact, I am now so wired that I am starting to notice everything. Including the clock's incessant ticking. Feels very Hitchcock.

Or is it an absurd play "Waiting for Guru".

What to wear. What to wear.

2007-06-17T21:46:00.000+08:00

Hmmm. Should I wear the pink shirt or would that send off the wrong signals? Definitely no tie. It’s an Ad Agency, of course. Everyone is too emo nowadays that it doesn’t make sense to come in like another Black Parade wannabe.

So there I was. Going through my limited wardrobe. Damn, when I start raking it in I must upgrade this closet. Everything is not just so last year. It may as well be last decade. Mental note: Trash the Hawaiian shirt with the cheesy hula dancers.

Tomorrow is my first day at the Ad Agency the industry has so aptly nicknamed “The Hot Shop”. Lucky me. Fresh out of school and I land a job there. Sometimes I amaze myself. Yeah, right. I will never know what made them decide to take me in. Was it something I said during the interview? My student portfolio? Well it wasn’t my winning smile I’m sure. I was so nervous talking to The Creative Guru I just kept nodding. Like that weird dog you see in the back of some cars.

Focus. What will you wear to your first day at work? What will you wear? Remember first impressions.

Aha! Got it.