I just realized that there was a package of Frosted Donettes sitting on my desk. Bought it a week ago, but set it aside when I was offered free bagels, and then forgot all about my little chocolate-coated friends. Found the Donettes in the nick of time too: According to the time stamp they expire on Feb 22 – although being a Hostess product, it’s probably Feb 22, 2999.
Some other things sitting on my desk:
A 5 fl oz bottle of Tabasco. Because hey, you just never know when a plate of scrambled eggs and corn beef hash will wander into your office and beg you to eat it.
A light bulb that’s actually a paperweight. Given to me by the agency to commemorate my one year anniversary. Like all paperweights on this planet, it actually doesn’t weigh down any paper. But if you put that thing inside a sock, you could easily bludgeon an account executive or producer into submission in less than 2.4 seconds.
A box of 300 wooden matches. If civilization suddenly came to an end while I was at work, these would really come in handy for heat, cooking, and to scare off roving bands of mutants.
A Mac. The IT people were supposed to take it away when I got my PC, but didn’t. I keep it on sometimes, so the Mac-using creatives won’t think I completely sold out to the Man.
One of those small dogs with a rainbow afro wig. The afro wig is detachable. You know what’d be funny is if I put that afro wig on my penis. Well, I suppose not.
A 11x17 photo of a naked woman, and a 5x7 photo of a matador getting gored straight up the ass by a bull. These were for the Lexus IS 300 launch project I worked on a couple of years ago. The producer found them after cleaning out her office and thought I’d appreciate them for sentimental purposes. I’m planning on framing the matador pic. Weighing the legal repercussions of framing and hanging the hot nude lady.
An angry green alien action figure trapped inside a wine glass. You’d be angry too if you were trapped inside a wine glass.
A certificate from the London International Advertising Awards. Quite honestly I’d never heard of this award ‘til last year, but the shiny winged trophy makes it look like a bigger deal than it probably is. Unfortunately the trophy will sit on some random shelf inside the agency where it will collect dust and insignificance, while my art director and I will be forced to cherish the paper versions.
A monkey lamp. Three months ago life started to feel a little numb, cooled down to an eggshell blue.
Work especially felt … hollow. I attributed that feeling to the project I was working on. I was supposed to come up with multiple conceptual executions, with the single-minded proposition being: “Make the most of every moment of your life – so go buy our $60,000 luxury sedan.”
But that’s all in a day’s work in my industry:
“Feel attractive and loved – buy our facial lotion.”
“Become socially appealing to your peers – buy our beer.”
“Ever find yourself sitting at an intersection, wondering if you could be happier? Well wonder no more – buy our canned meat.” Etc.
Maybe it’s because of what my sister was going through … but for the first time, I suddenly felt disappointed with what I did for a living.
So I bought a monkey lamp.
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