mercoledì, aprile 26, 2006

The Red Dragon sits and sips her opium tea

Since Figaro left I’ve been willing to punch myself in the face for a cigarette. But I shan’t. I’ll lose my fucking mind instead. Here are my notes from yesterday’s breakfast conference:

Engagement not numbers
47% of it on specialty
No bullshit – too easy
Shower parties
Phil, oh Phil
Mao Zedong
P. Diddy
What – Confucius now
What we are hearing – 4000
Pissing soccer
Where’s my television
Eggs eggs eggs
One big eyebrow, like Best in Show haha
It smells like fart

What is shocking about these is that a part of them was an honest attempt to translate the presentations into coherent notes, which as you see resulted in a series of – nothing. Madness, and you can’t even tell where the insanity stopped being theirs and started being mine. Even if I had a scanner and you could see the beeee-youtiful pictures I drew of happy trolls on my notes, you still wouldn’t be able to tell where I’d snapped. AND there were no pains au chocolat.

My industry is a disease.

Not much else to tell you this morning. Yesterday my analyst and I started discussing my real problem. He says it will take me years to train myself out of it, and I just want him to make it go away now, because I'm paying him and I'm fucking broke, broke, broke, fuck. And in the morning I ordered L’Histoire de Melody Nelson to Figaro’s place in Italy since no fucker in Canada, including Amazon and eBay, seems to have it and as I should be being fiscally responsible it seemed the thing to avoid trans-Atlantic shipping charges. Also I think he’d like it because it’s fucking awesome. Anyways, what the fuck is up with no fucker here having that album? Canada is full of French people who should have that record on constant fucking spin, like Anglos do with the Beatles or something.

I’d still punch myself in the face for a fucking cigarette.

7 commenti:

calisaurus ha detto...

Why no smoking? What's one little cig doing to do?

Maybe just put a little tobacco in a joint.

Or make tobacco butter... bleh!

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

When I try to smoke cigarettes now - and I have tried - I cough and cough like a bitch with blacklung. I'm sure it's psychological since the reefer goes down easy, but psychological or not, it hurts.

But yeah, maybe I'll see if I can smuggle some baccy into a joint.

Dr Wommm ha detto...

I always put some baccy in a spliff. Not 'cos I'm a cheapskate bastard, but becauuse nicotine slows down the reuptake of dopamine, therefore rendering one higher, for longer.

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

Really? Doctor, you taught me something about weed today. I haven't learnt anything new about weed in over a year and a half. That's awesome!

Dr Wommm ha detto...

Always a pleasure to be of assisstance :-)

Jiri ha detto...

But what does it mean? What does it mean? What does it mean?

Also, I think that there is a law in Canada that requires all conferences that start before 11:00 AM to serve pains au chocolat.

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

The Four Seasons broke the law????? I'm not surprised - look at the fucking monstrosity they're proposing in the Yorkville district ( If they build it, that's, like, the 500th stake that's been drawn through the heart of baby boomers ever having been cool.

If you're asking what my notes mean, I don't know. The speakers were talking about how marketers need to be like Mao Zedong. Oh, the "Phil oh Phil" was about Phil Gushalak. They showed footage of an Axe-sponsored campus party and the student organizer they'd hired reminded me of Phil, who seems to have slipped under the radar, which was making me sad. And I think the 'it smells like fart' was from when someone farted.