this isn’t just a game for the copywriters, you art directors and designers and restauranteurs and pr specialists and home executives and family members can play too. i want to buy a new car. it’s only taken me about two and a half years to figure out what i want to get. wait for it……
Sunday Times Column
some inspiring shit off the internetweb.
well it’s not really shit, it’s actually all very unshit. enjoy. ok wait there’s a mushy theme forming here, here’s something a little more random. and… have a nice wednesday.
today was a monday in disguise.
graffiti rocks
i love it when people take public signs into their own hands, quite literally.in case you can’t read it, i’ll translate: the sign says:“Can you fall for someone you’ve never met?” the graffiti says:“let’s hope so, cos everyone i’ve met so far is a bunch of cunts.”
fuck knows
thank you for this michael crowe, you fricken genius. http://figcrumbs.blogspot.com/
talk about casting a wide net.
k, so it’s a lazy weekend and i find myself trawling around online looking for mr right or mr will-do-for-now, or mr ridiculously stinking rich. hey i’ll even settle for mr freaking handsome or mr enormous penis, at this rate. but then i come across mr indecisive. check this guy out. everything about this 37…
mr 'what-the-fuck'
please meet someone i recently met at the online dating website – i call him mr ‘what the fuck’. here’s his profile: “Why should you get to know ‘mr what-the-fuck’?Divorced guy, enjoying life..always looking for new experiences..Have adopted Polyamory as a lifestyle, so those of you not shy to try something a little different, drop…
pretty things.
thanks to the clever young lady who has a blog on the internetwebplace with all these pretty things lined up on it waiting to be enjoyed.
and now for a commercial break.
it’s your choice, you can stick around for this commercial break, or you can pop to the loo (don’t forget to wash your hands), or you can go look in the fridge again just in case a tray of brownies or a whole roast chicken has appeared next to that lonely wedge of mouldy cheese…