Thursday, July 22, 2010


*Wipes away tear of pure joy*

Thanks to Dickie the planner.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Changing behaviour, one wizz at a time

Someone recently stuck this up as a case study.

It’s the dispiriting tale of how a company dramatically reduced the number of cases of men weeing on the floor by painting a fly onto the urinals.

While I respect their achievement, I can’t help feeling humanity is poorer for this story.

It's depressing on many levels. Not least that men can’t manage to hit what is, after all, a pretty big target without a carefully reproduced insect to focus on.

Also, I feel sorry for the poor bloke who had to paint them all on.

But worst of all, that faintest of nagging memories that I too, guided by some primal fly-dousing instinct, have aimed carefully at that fly. I seem to recall vaguely wondering why it was there and why I couldn’t stop aiming at it.

I wonder how far they went in testing the efficacy of a fly above all the other options? For example, did they experiment with other insects, a wasp or bee perhaps? Or even an invertebrate? I for one would welcome the opportunity to wee on a millipede.

And of course there's no reason to restrict ourselves to small creatures. Why not stick a picture of ITV's World Cup pundits in there? Or the entire cast of Hollyoaks? The mind boggles at the glorious weeing possibilities.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Just one of the ways in which I'm like SuperTed

A few weeks ago, our Head of Copy was taking his usual holidays, sitting in a dark room reading Dostoyevsky.

As luck would have it, my art director was also off so I went and sat in the Head of Copy's BIG SPECIAL CHAIR next to the Head of Art.

It's hard to describe the feeling as my butt nestled into that hallowed leather throne. But let's just say that I now know how Bilbo Baggins felt after he'd worn the ring of power.

I've had a taste and I want more. I just can't get the thought out of my head. The way account girls spoke to me with a straight face. The nod of vague acknowledgement from my creative peers. A heady mix indeed.

Not that it was all Champagne lunches and celebrity status. If there's one thing Spiderman taught us, it's that with great power comes great responsibility.

For example, when an account person asks the Head of Copy which side of the 's' the apostrophe goes, they expect you to KNOW. That kind of pressure is terrifying and takes some getting used to I can tell you.

But I like to think I bluffed my way through it with aplomb.

So it's pretty hard to take that I find myself back at my wobbly desk in the cellar, stripped of my position and cast aside like a piece of rubbish.

A lot like SuperTed before he got his special powers.

Sometimes it's only SuperTed's example that keeps me going.

I yearn for the day my own Spotty man will arrive from outer space to sprinkle me with cosmic dust and transform me into the heroic Head of Copy I know I'm destined to be.

When will you come, Spotty?