Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Get 40% off good wine in time for Xmas

"You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on" - Dean Martin.

Hic. You like to drink wine, right? I like it too. Even more so when I can get top tipples for less. And that's just what you and I can do by clicking on the picture to the left, or download the better quality PDF here.

There's more to the voucher than meets the eye. Oh sure, you'll still get money off, so print away. However, there's a bit of a story behind it. Apparently, the brand's marketing men didn't intend for the 40% off voucher to speed its way around the interweb - but it has, and how. Rather than a few Thresher insiders knowing about the superb offer, now 1000s of outsiders doo, too. Like you. Like me. So it goes.

So get down to Threshers, grab a few cases, pour yourself a snifter, and check out the Gaping Void for the full story.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Bowlin', howlin'

I'm off bowlin' tonight with colleagues. I'll post my winning scores later, after wiping the lanes with my lily-wristed work pals ;)

I'm modelling my style on Teen Wolf - very wristy and howly. I'm a darn site hairier than any wolf though - and I'm not sure how my fur will interfere with the hair-odynamics. But that's for me to figure out.

You - you can check out clips from my favourite movies featuring hot bowling action:

  • The Little Lebowski - the short version of Coen Bros. classic, The Big Lebowski (sweary)
  • Bill Murray on blistering form in the final scene of Kingpin - strangley (lairy)
  • A wolf that can bowl? No, a Teen Wolf that can bowl! (hairy)
  • Animal House, Porkys & Gremlins - more confusing than the three put togther, and far lower budget/quality than any of them individually, it's the equally 80s lowbrow classic Sorority Babes in Slimball Bowl-O-Rama (scary)


Monday, November 20, 2006

Smile - you're on sex camera

In the middle of writing some PR proposals for a new biz prospect. I'm developing a fashion photoshoot idea themed around making of a celebrity sex-tape. Called "The fall of celebrity", it should generate fashion magazine coverage. Particularly if we get the right snapper - someone like Terry Richardson or Ryan McGinley.

Don't know if the prospect will be up for it or not - it's risqué but fun. Either way, I've had some fun checking out some of my fave reality and gonzo style photography sites in the name of research. I'd like you to enjoy them, too so here are some links:

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Zootube - Taxi

Double-funny video to promote Zoo magazine. Saw it on large screen at the cinema before Borat movie. Well, if you're gonna spend £10K on an ad...

We like sharing

"I tried to save the world but forgot to save myself" - David Hasselhoff (We're currently being quoted £150,000 for one day of the Hoff's time - frankly I'd rather sit on a chainsaw than hire that leathery has- been who has jumped the shark for the umpteenth time)

Jedis ask for human rights, don't think Dark Side poses threat - today's Sun Online, either I missed in the print edition or it's online only (?????)

Kevin Federline wants to get his super-talented mitts on
this lot - thanks Popjustice

sexy walls


Back in the 80s, purple pop star, Prince, was writing lyrical Viagra so filthy that I had to have a cold shower every time I listened to his songs.

Banned single, Erotic City was one such audio grot, Purple Rain track Darling Nikki was another. His output of sexy songs was so prodigious that he had too many for himself.

So he gave them to other artists, such as Sheena Easton. After, allegedly, love-grinding his Purple Highness pelt-like* pelvis, the wee Scots lassie recorded a Prince-penned number called Sugar Walls. You can probably work out what 'sugar walls' the pop star was referring to.

Equally sexy, yet infintely more sublte and stylish is
Ded Associates' new wallpaper, Paper Voyeur. My old mates' Jon and Nik have come up with easily the sexiest wall coverings of the year. And if you want to write about it, sell it or buy it, simply contact them on +44 (0)114 249 3939. They're rather shit hot graphic designers so if you need any design work done, bear them in mind.

Alternatively, you could do the low rent version which is to trace Playboy pages onto your wall and colour in with magic markers. That'd look good.

*used only for alliteration purposes.

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Tokyo tramp stampede

It's 4am, and the tramps are beginning to stampede. Along with them are the Chinese students. Caught up in the frenzy are a bunch of Tokyo gamers. 300 tense people are orbiting Bic Camera, a Tokyo store, with the same intent - to be among the world's first to buy a shiny new PS3 console.

Brad's account of buying the first PS3 console is insightful, emotional and just a little hilarious. Sharky businessmen have employed a number of poor Chinese students to snap up the consoles to sell at vastly over-inflated sums abroad. Tokyo residents have paid tramps to queue for them. Journalists, snappers and TV crews are there to capture the action.

No-one is allowed to stand still thanks to a law banning queuing in the dark. A store shutter moves here. A store clerk appears there. But a mere flinch at Bic Camera tips the mob into a frenzied
rush to the store. And then back again. It's like a panicked version of a Benny Hill chase sequence. As for Brad and his mates, they're just hardcore gamers intent on getting the console the world has been waiting for.

For PS3, this truly is PR that money can't buy. Now, I'm off to type up a plan for an MP3 player new business prospect. Recommendation #1, hire squad of tramps...Story via Jean Snow.

Spamalot review

Just back from Spamalot at the Palace Theatre. It's a cracking comedy musical with some brilliant moments. From the "We need a Jew" song to the French castle sequence right outta the Python movie that inspired the show - complete with wooden stealth rabbit. It's not a musical of the Holy Grail film, however; like the publicity says, it's inspired by the movie. So the Sir Galahad coming out of the mediaeval closet sequence, complete with an ueber camp dance routine will have those expecting a carbon copy of the movie - but with more songs- slightly shocked.

The show goes a bit post-modern with its self referential twist a la final sequence in Mel Brooks' Blazing Saddles movie: King Arthur's quest is...to reach 'Theatreland - London's West End'. Kinf of like Brooks' cowboys storming the film set of a movie being shot in Hollywood. Not exactly an original gag but effective enough. It works best when weaved into songs with the female lead. In fact, every song with the female lead was stunning. Played by Hannah Waddingham stole the show - she's worth the ticket price alone.

Verdict: a fun night out. As a footnote, I would recommend getting decent seats. I was in probably the worst seat in the house - in the circle with obscured view. Dire stuff - if the vertigo didn't get me, the neck ache did.

You can't capture the magic of a live show on video - well, none of the crappy clips on YouTube have managed to - so here's a Star Trek/Holy Grail mashup instead.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Another day, another Lucy Pinder shoot

Working in consumer PR is really hard. Take today for instance. We had to get up, and hang out all day with sexy cover babe, Lucy Pinder, again. Yes, again. Spending time with her in the cab, at photoshoots, and hanging out with her at various lads mags. It's just not fair. Why can't we do interesting things like accounting or fixing computers?

Lucy is so hot that, apparently, she nearly turned a gay colleague of mine straight. Easy tiger. She also had the guys at Loaded, Maxim, Ice and new online mag Monkey going gaga.

Not only does she help sell more lads mags than any other girl nowadays (5-9% uplift) - A-list stars included - but she's an absolute joy to work with. She was even kind enough to record a video message (see grab, left) for my sister's kid, a lads mag/ueber babe fanatic .

I'm going to turn into a kind PR stalker by factoring Miss Pinder into every single client recommendation from now on. "You're launching a new product? Use Lucy." "You need a venue? Pick anywhere - just put Lucy in it." "You need a cab across town? Why not get Lucy to keep you company? I'll chaperone." She's great. And she's doing good things for my clients, too.

Monday, November 13, 2006

Babyshambles guitarist joins dad?

Dad did the clan proud with arguably his best gig on Saturday night, his 32nd year at the Glasgow Pavillion theatre.

"Steak and Kidney" - as he's known north of the border - played to houses Thursday through Saturday packed mainly with old fans but there were some news ones too. There were swathes of the (mainly) over forties (and even a 90-year old lady!) that have grown up with my dad since he started performing at 13 years old. It may have been an older audience than a Kings of Leon gig, but age never stopped me from flirting. Of course I'm sworn to secrecy on this front.

But there was also young totty too. My nephew, Ryan, and I were chatted up in the bar before the show by a young gaggle of gallus Glasgow gals who spotted the family resemblance. Of course, I'm engaged so I couldn't participate in la chasse. However I did help my nephew out with some killer chat up lines, including this little beauty: "Would you like a stalker, gorgeous?"


My gig pics are
here at my Phanfare album, and their my finest to date. They're my only ones to date and that is one of the key reasons for their triumph over my previous efforts.

As for the gig itself, this is my first gig review so I imagine it will be excellent. At least in comparison to my previous efforts, that is. However, as I've just used the same gag twice in quick succession, I don't hold out much hope for the bugger. But here goes - I advise you to prceed at extreme caution.

I've got to start with the lighting. It was good. At this point i have to say that I'm not sure this review is going well, but I'd better press on or it'll take all day. The multi-coloured star cloth and nebulae-coloured lights and floating galaxy dust (which may have been stage smoke) reminded me of Juan Atkins' last Model 500 - Deep Space album artwork - the Detroit spacey techno crowd would have loved it.

Any review should mention the band - and I'm not one for rebellion; at this point, I need all the guidance I can get. According to showbiz jargon, Legend - as the band is called - was 'tight'. I won't bore you with individual performances but it is worth mentioning the somewhat cadaverous guitarist, Frankie. Looking like he should have been on stage with Babyshambles, it seemed the only thing keeping Frankie alive on stage were regular
shocks from a frayed amp lead.

Altogether more wholesome was the surprise addition of the 50-strong Glasgow Phoenix Choir. Arriving on stage at the end, they really beefed up the sound and ramped up the atmosphere. Their support for the rousing, if not parochial, 'Scotland Forever' finalé had the hairs standing up on my neck, and even on the chin of the old dear in front of me. I couldn't stop making Herr Lipp gags about a giant "Queer" on stage but no-one seemed to laugh.

Of course the show isn't necessarily my kind of music or my scene - far from it, in fact. But that's the thing - it's a family thing. I'd even go and watch my nephews in their various school plays - if they weren't such talentless wretches. But I joke - and the truth is that the old man certainly knows how to entertain. I was absolutely riveted by the show .and dad's voice was better than ever, fragile with emotion at times which reminded me a bit Johnny Cash on the stunning 'Hurt'. Where as my voice sounds like the wails of a dog that's just been cornered by a gang of starving north Koreans. Or even a gang of drunken Scots that can't be bothered to find the nearest dep fried Mars bar.

Anyway, this whole review seems to have gone right off the rails, so perhaps I'll just rush straight on to the plugs. What kind of PR would I be if I didn't slap some plugs onto this little post? So, 1-2 loyal readers, if you're looking for a gift for that special someone this Xmas, forget about whizzy gadgets, forget about Tiffany jewellry, forget about cool clothes; instead, why not plum for some of the following great gifts - a percentage of every one sold goes into my old man's pocket, whencefrom I can attempt to pinch it, and in return buy you a free drink. And - hence - the karmic circle is complete. Anyway, you can choose from an autobiography, or one of two new albums, and a DVD (I think). Each CD sale will help add to his 15 million album sales. What do you mean 'iTunes'? What is an 'iTunes'?

If however, you agree with this venomous bunch's view that big Syd is actually Scotland's
worst singer, you many want to buy one of his products anyway - for your enemy. Ah, ever the salesmen, eh? Perhaps it's better if I simply give this whole freakish jig up and get the hell away from this whole way-led, cock-eyed post fast, like some crazed, febrile, naked, dribbling yahoo. Either that, or just take Snagglepuss' advice and exit, stage left.

SANTA CLAWS

Ayr, west coast of Scotland, Saturday night. A giant claw knocks on the front door. It belongs to a fresh lobster that my dad's mate, Dredger, caught that day. Dredger's an ordinary fisherman but catches some of the world's best shellfish you can find - so good it finds its way into restaurants in London, Paris and Barcelona - and even Manhattan. And he's brought round a freshly snared lobster. He's the Santa of the sea.

But what to do? I've never cooked one of these monsters before. I've got recipe books - like one of Gordon Ramsay 's - but they all seem to be super-fancy recipes. Whereas I want it as simple as possible - why spoil something so fresh and tasty with other flavours?

So I just do the simple thing: boil it in court buillon and serve it with a simple garlic mayo dip and home made oven chips made from Ayrshire potatoes. Wash it down with a
local ale. Simple. Superb. And totally local. Everything consumed came from within 10 miles. No-one else in the family wanted to share the spoils, though - my poor sister even screamed when she saw the lobster in the kitchen sink. I don't blame them for not wanting to eat such amazing food but sadly this is the attitude of many Scots. And thats why, even with one of the world's best natural larders - the finest shell fish, salmon, osyters, mussels, venison, beef, lamb, gorgeous vegetables, beautiful fruit - the country has one of the worst diets in the 'first' world. A diet which has helped earn the west coast of Scotland the unenviable reputation as the world's heart attack capital. The country fails to embrace its best assets.


Worse, despite many Scots failing to really embrace their country's amazing edible assets, many natural food resources are on the brink of disaster. Dredger told me the
Ayrshire's fishing fleet stands at a mere 19 boats, almost all sailing from Troon. The Ayr port has long since shut down and nearby Girvan is waning. The fish stocks in the area are all but gone - fished out. Indeed, the prawn industry is keeping what's left of the local fishing industry afloat. But with a decimated eco-system, how long before these prized catches go the way of North Atlantic and North Sea cod stocks?

My strategic solution is this, for what it's worth:
  • A national campaign spear-headed by HEBS (Health Education Board Scotland) to change the country's eating culture - link with key media partners - promote Scottish food, local, natural food - campaign for healthy eating in the school, the workplace and the home
  • Curb fishing in areas where stocks are at perilously low levels - create and manage protected marine and animal parks that have proived so successful around the world, such as Australia, Sardinia or closer to home in Northern Ireland
  • Promote leisure and tourism in marine and animal parks - e.g. seal and whale watching trips and sports activities like Sailing and diving - the climate may seem at certain times of the year an anoyance, but not totally prohbitive
Basically, uh, whatever it takes to help ensure a steady stream of fresh lobster to my plate for years to come.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

I'm not your friend

Homeless people put up with a lot of shit. They cope with pretty extraordinary circumstances. Yet, just like you never see baby pigeons, you never see homeless people cry. So when I passed one today, bawling his eyes out, I felt compelled to find out why.

Me: “Hey-hey-hey there, big guy, are you ok?”
Homeless guy (crying, a lot): “No, I’m not facking ok, ok?”
Me: “Not sure what I can do, slick, but can I help at all?”
Homeless guy (crying, a lot): “Nathing, you facking cant, unless you can get the facking best facking music vide award off of those facking cants, Justice and Simian, and give it to the facking artist that truly facking deserves it – Kanye.”
Me: “Why should I, pal?”
Homeless guy (crying, a little less): “Because Pamela fackin Anderson was in that video, it cost a facking million, and facking Kanye jumped across a facking canyon.”
Me: “Like Evil Kneivel?”
Homeless guy (snivelling): “Not facking really. Cant.”
Me: “But – dude – have you seen the Justice and Simian video? It like, totally, facking rocks, dude.”

At this point, a thump from nowhere bashed me hard, and I toppled over onto the pavement. I awoke some minutes later, with cartoon birds tweeting around my head. Someone had knocked me out and stuffed something in my mouth: a magazine page of pneumatic pin-up, Pamela Anderson.

Maybe the homeless guy was right. Maybe Kanye was too. Maybe putting Pamela Anderson in his video should have scooped him this year’s best video award at the MTVE VMAs, and not Justice/Simian's "We are your friends".

Maybe that’s why the homeless guy lashed out at me. And maybe that’s why Kanye stormed the stage. Maybe I should stop writing “maybe” over and over again. It’s making me feel suicidal. Why don’t you make up your own mind. Read this crazy mofo - it'll help you figure out this whole badass situation.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Lucy Pinder - News of the World GadgiTs Shoot

For work, I set up this photoshoot with Lucy Pinder. I wonder what people think of it?

My colleague Jon managed the shoot. I think it was the best day in Jon's life. Certainly his working life. My colleague Jodie placed the pictures of Lucy in the News of the World - and the Gadgits blog.

Lucy is an absolute phenomenon. When publishers put her on a cover, sales shoot up. One of her videos on YouTube has over 180,000 views. Quite a girl. I don't think that a video of my posing in a bustiere would quite get the same attention. But then again, my man boobs have a way to go until they swell to Lucy's size.

Anyway, working with Lucy's agent was a joy. Next time, I might even get to meet the girl herself.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Leave the kids alone

Jim used to say "leave the kid alone". Jim used to take me to go-karts. Showed me how to roller skate. We used to make slides out of piles of matresses spewing out of the back of the truck he drove. Out of all of my sister's boyfriends, I liked Jim the most.

Not only was he generous with his time - he was generous with his spirit. Most of all, he respected me. And he urged others to. I was only 8.

Jim didn't have a degree, but he was smart enough and street-clever. He grasped what most adults failed to then and still fail to now: kids of any age crave and deserve respect.

And this was the very point that the lovely Michelle James, director of marketing for music charity, Music Youth, made at the Marketing Youth conference on Tuesday. Like most of the presentations I caught that day, Michelle's was full of utterly interesting information if not a thoroughly captivating delivery. That is, until she went off script - to express a very personal view of how Britain is treating it's children. Suddenly, she became far more engaging than any other speaker that day.

Michelle argued that, as a nation, we're starting to completely stop respecting our youth, with disastrous consequences. She should know.
Broadly, Michelle's charity works with extremely disadvantaged youth. Kids from broken homes, patchy educations, even ex-criminals. The one thing that each kid has in common, says Michelle, is that have all suffered from respect neglect. This is no tinpot issue. Forensic psychology long ago discovered the link between respect and crime.

Michelle argued that the media's awful, dramatic portrayal of all UK kids as "hoodie thugs" bent on wrecking Britain is become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Hell yeah, Michelle, finally someone said it. And at a marketing conference of all places. High five, girl.

Pick up any British newspaper, quality or tabliod, any day of the week, and you'll find them
screaming about some kind of impending social apocalypse - with teenage Brits cast as the four horsemen.

Take today's Daily Mail,for instance. "ASBO DEFAULTERS GET OFF SCOT-FREE", shrieked one headline. This scary-haired harridan of a newspaper neatly twisted statistics to make teens the focus of the story - ASBOs (Anti Social Behaviour Disorders) are neither exclusively handed out to teens, nor do they necessarily carry a jail sentence. Indeed, they're as likely to be issued to a Daily Mail reader letting their trees grow into a neighbouring garden as a teenager on a street corner. It wasn't the only Mail story ntoday to show such downright disrespect to nation's youth - as well as its own readers by manipulating the facts to such an extent.

According to the mid-market tabloid, a "68 YR OLD WOMAN KICKED OUT (of a restaurant) FOR WEARING A HOOD." It interviewed the woman, who claimed that she would “in no way call (her top) a hoodie”. The implication was that she was treated like a common thugish teenager - a second class citizen. Another Mail headline, still in today's paper shouted "BLAIR: CHILDREN NEED DISCIPLINE", while another lamented that it's now "OK 2 USE YXT ANSRS N XAMS". The latter article implies that teenagers themselves have relentlessly driven down the country's once-proud education standards.

More disturbingly, the Daily Mail wholelsale labels teenagers as "teenage tearaways", "yobs" and "teen thugs." It relentlessly implies that British youth is contaminating the country. Doesn't that sound a little like a syphilitic chap called Adolph a few years back? And this is the paper that informs, educates and entertains about 6 million Britons every day. Forget what we are teaching or kids for a moment, and consider this: what the hell are we teaching our adults?

Perhaps we should force all mail readers through a re-endoctrination scheme, developed by none other than Save The Hoodie campaigner, Lady Sovereign. At least until they agree to start respecting the massive chunk of the country's population that they continually diss. Peace, out!