Columbine

Although I’ve taken serious measures in my kids’ music education
I am encountering a high degree of immense frustration
Not liking Led Zeppelin is simply not an option
They simply transcend personal opinion
Jim Morrison is another case in point
Where my six year old’s reaction was designed to disappoint
His music tastes seem more to lie
Somewhere around nineteen eighty nine

My team is going off for an extended creative lunch
I am struggling to repress the uneasy hunch
That it will once again be postponed
Or despite a collective saddened moan
We’ll have to come back before going home
I will not entertain such a gloomy outlook
I’m going to call the restaurant to book
A table for 5 and if we get out of here alive
Then we’ll order a round of Tequila or two
Bugger! I knew it was too good to be true!
I’ve just been told not to hold my hopes high
That my CD is in all likelihood going to spit in my eye
I’ve asked my team to remain at large
Until I’ve chatted to the man in charge
If lunch is out we’re going on strike
Like every other industry and demand some rights!
Barring that I’ll go postal and do a Columbine
And send the powers that be off to meet with the Divine

I’m off tomorrow morning to another birthday party
With another cake decorated with over a thousand Smarties
And small six year old children running riot everywhere
By ten o’clock I’ll be tearing out my hair
From the sheer effort to make polite conversation
While praying piously for some salvation
It brings to mind my mother who always had a friend
With a child just my age so mature must intend
For us to be best pals and play along just so
When in fact we loathed each other and couldn’t wait to go
You see I am so happy that my son has found a gang
But I cannot comprehend I that would make me want to hang
Out with their parents and try desperately to pretend
That because my son likes theirs we are now best friends
I will hopefully find Teresa who tends to boycott these occasions
And have a clandestine cigarette and plan evasive action

I spent year selling this beloved country
Before I almost committed hari kiri
But the brief hiatus I have been experiencing
Went up in smoke sometime last evening
I’ve received three briefs on the very same issue
All totally different and making reach for a tissue
To wipe away the tears caused by the bubbling swells of hysteria
That threaten to form a Tsunami like disaster area

The outcome of this afternoon’s excursion
Is that we shall undertake a little subversion
Come quarter to one we pack up our stuff
Say not a word and disappear in a puff
Of proverbial smoke to order that Tequila
Or perhaps a frozen strawberry Margherita!

When I grow up

Do you remember being small
Standing on a chair to make you tall
Enough to reach the cookie jar
So far away it may as well have been hidden on a star?
Do you remember what it was you wanted to be
When you were all grown up and no longer knee
high to grasshopper? When you could be anything
From a doctor to a pilot or a lion trainer in the ring?
I wonder how many of us became
The type of people we played in that game?
And how many of us kept those dreams to ourselves
And boxed them away in the topmost dusty shelves
To take down and open when everyone is asleep
And imagine what we could have been if we’d just taken a leap
Of faith and dared to fail
Or blaze a star studded glittering trail
Across the sky
I fear it takes a braver woman than I

Pixie Dust

You know that absolutely amazing feeling
As your feet lift off the floor and your head touches the ceiling?
The cold night air against your face
And an eagle who challenges you to a race
Flying loop di loops around the stars
And soaring on wings that once were arms
He says that grown ups can’t fly in their dreams
I can’t find the words for how sad that seems
At least it means I’m still a child yippee!
For I love to skim the tops of the trees
And see the city lights far far below me
To dive into clouds and ride the night wind
And wake up in the morning with a wide wide wide grin.
I’m sorry if you can no longer fly
Perhaps if you gave it one more try?
Remember what Peter Pan said
And put happy thoughts into your head
Then all you need is faith and trust
And a little bit of pixie dust

Moving On

I’ve cheered up now quite a bit

Got over this morning’s earlier snit

Which is why when asked to fill in

yet another appraisal form

I was filled with glowing praise

for my the way my colleague performs

Now I plan to start writing a Mills and Boon

The kind where boys are men and lovely young ladies swoon

I don’t imagine it will be the kind of literary flavour

I would ask my mother and father to savour

But I hope it might help bring some dosh

Which lets face it would help quite a lot

If you have any ideas please send them over smartish

I keep starting scenarios but lose impetus at the finish

No smart comment from the peanut gallery

You may find yourself in some romantic parody

I’ve stolen moments every day

To read a Vanity Fair page

I’ve shed some tears over poor old Zim

And looked enviously on supermodels so damn slim

I’ve read the fairytale of Carla Bruni

France’s beautiful new first lady

And Nicky Haslam – how cool is he?

Larger than life like the irrepressible Taki

Unafraid to speak his mind,

Unfettered by social norms and unpleasant climes

Imagine we could follow the sun

In search of parties, clubs and fun?

I’m in a rare and awkward situation

Without a job demanding creation

Although in times of crisis and trauma

I long for a hiatus and a late night chicken korma

Now that I have the time on my hands

I’m gripped by panic for when it all ends

There must be a pay-back for this time of quiet

Sooner or later there’ll be a riot

And I worry that I may lose the plot

And not be able to write a jot

So give me some work Fee,

Please, please, please

I’ll even take a brief on SAT!

I’m sitting in a meeting trying hard to seem focussed

While all the time keeping my kegs firmly crossed

Please don’t ask for something clever from me

All I think of is how much I need to wee

Great. Are we decided then? Let’s move!

I’ve taken a breather caught my breath

And found a site called La Blogotheque

There’s a music video for a band named Menomena

The song “Wet and Rusting” has become a phenomena

Take a quick look at what music can do

To two little people walking down the rue

Somewhere in Paris who stopped to

Let the joy of music tell their bodies what to do

(www.youtube.com/watch?v=nLH26ZihZpE)

My Brave Face

I’ve lost my brave face
I can’t find it anyplace
I really need it on today
I need to hear my father say
“Chin up, stout fella, it’ll be okay”

I need eyedrops made by appointment to the Queen
To give my eyes that shiny, sparkly sheen
I need some expensive make-up base
To wipe away the streaks the tears have traced
I need some long-lasting lipstick to paint on a smile
I need someplace to curl up and sleep for a while
So if you happen to find it lying around somewhere
You can find me sitting right here

Why the deep pit of self inflicted misery?
The loss of my usual misplaced bravery?
I woke up this morning to a cold realization
That my best friend will no longer be in this nation
And totally selfish though it may be
I feel suddenly bereft and lonely
Email and Facebook will still connect us
But a pool table will stand empty at Bohemians
No more glasses of cheap red wine
I might sink into a deep decline

No matter, it’s just a passing phase
It’ll only last a couple of days
I’m suffering complete hormonal overload
Which means that I’m bound to explode
Over the smallest, stupidest thing
Not really filled with the joys of spring
The worst thing about this malady
Is that it hurts the people close to me
I’m writing here my heartfelt apology
For my totally screwed up psychology
So please don’t look too closely at me
You’ll only see the screaming banshee
Who has staged a pretty well-orchestrated escape
And assumed my face, my voice and shape

I’m feeling the effects of nostalgic memories
For the friendly faces that once surrounded me
Nighttime ghosts of girls I knew
Who lived every moment brave and strong and true
Whose days down here were numbered on some celestial board
Who stuffed in every single experience that they could
No more nights in Morris Minors or hanging out with bands
Now I see them in my dreams in some other far off land
There are other faces captured in fading photographs
Of some or other time when we shared a few loud laughs
When all the world lay before us as an oyster at our feet
And we had yet to sample the bitter taste of defeat
We’ve grown up to be wise
A few more wrinkles around the eyes
I hope that somewhere in there safely stored inside
Is a little bit of innocence, a little remnant of the child

A Sunbeam

Does Jesus want me for a sunbeam

Or to light a fire under someone else’s ass?

I tend to err on the side of the latter

As I a strike a match to light their methane gas

Kaboom, kablooey off they go

If nothing else they made a beautiful firework show

I fear the tables may have turned on me

That I may be struck down suddenly

And without warning by a flash of lightening

Dispatched in manner incredibly frightening

I know I could never work in a bank

As a sailor I’d be responsible for every ship that sank

I’d be a lousy tennis player and not a baseball star

My sporting prowess more a source of raucous laughter

So I ended up in advertising and my friends look on with pity

As I stick up billboards everywhere across Joburg city

I know what I do is trivial and not all that deserving of respect

But I do it pretty well – better than a banker would I bet!

Do I dream of something else, some post-apocalyptic skill

Like a hunter or a doctor or some vocation that will

Save the world we live in and keep us all alive

Yes, but all I have to offer now is some amusing rhymes!

I give thanks then that I married a man with all the skills I need

To hunt for food and fix my car and other heroic deeds

And if today I succeed in giving you a smile

Than at least it may stave off the end of the world for a while

It’s funny the things I take for granted

That a few years ago had not been invented

I blithely assume that everyone can use the Internet

Can email and Google and knows about GREP

I assume that everyone on my team

Backs up their work on the server, do you know what I mean?

But it turns out that that’s not what they do

And I can’t even blame them, can you?

Eskom’s load shedding often leaves us powerless

Unable to work and meet deadlines even less

Our network is a seesaw on IT’s playground

So, (and there’s no nice way to say it) we get screwed around

Which is why they save the work on their desktops instead

And take their computers home with them when they are sick in bed

Which brings me to my next topic of discussion for the day

Martyrs and martyrdom should really stay away

From my studio when they are really ill

If I get sick because of them I’ll send them my doctor’s bill

We all like to think we are irreplaceable and perfectly unique

But I can someone else to do the work – you dig?

So stay in bed and sleep, take your pills every 4 hours

We’ll handle the work and send you some pretty flowers

Marais is feeling a trifle peeved

The changes I’ve marked are not to be sneezed

at. I’ve typed them all out, I’m a little anal that way

To be sure no small error slips away

I knew he’d be pretty mad at me

Which is why I tried to get the job into DTP

Now the servers are down and I can’t get in

The mails not working and I can’t log in

It renders me nearly apoplectic

And they have no idea when it’ll be fixed!

The Casualty Affair

I’ve spent a week by the deep blue sea

Enjoying some time with my family

We built fairy castles in the sand

And more then once things got out of hand

Back at my desk I must relate

The incidents that made the whole break great

First there was the time that James got washed away

A friendly surfer rescued him before he went astray

Still water logged and sandy my boy got quite a fright

So we had to go and buy him a brand new funky kite

Lexi has decided at the grand of age of almost three

Has decided that she no longer wished to be known as Lexi

She spent a happy morning practicing her name

Before Xandra Bella she finally became

The most amusing anecdote that I have here to share

Was what I fondly refer to as the Casualty Affair

We’d spent a happy day in the sea and on the sand

It was on our way home that things got out of hand

It must have been about four o’clock

That Marc apparently went into anaphylactic shock

I stood in the store stocking up on some snacks

When Marc and my mother came bursting in with the facts

A bust little bee had stung my man’s behind

Marc’s shock and Mummy’s panic instantly combined

Reminiscent of the manner in which headless chickens run

Round in circles as I stood there looking stunned

As I raced towards ER, Marc sat beside me numb

Worried about the blown-up man he was shortly to become

The learned paramedic upon learning of his plight

Was sympathetic and kindly and suggested he stayed the night

But first of all it was important that he looked upon the bum

To examine said sting upon which he was struck dumb

Would you like to hear the diagnosis? Well I’ve promised not to say

It will have to wait until another sunny day

Suffice to say it wasn’t quite what first we thought

It was instead an issue dermatologically fraught

Now here I sit and hear the shackles clamping tight

Around my ankles as I sit under the tungsten light

Catching up on all the office goings on

It appears things ran amok while I was gone

Marais was in accident and has staples in his head

While I sat sipping cocktails, he spent the week in bed

At the scene a drama played out

As the driver in question placed into doubt

Her blood alcohol limit of 1.79

Maintaining that she was absolutely fine

“But officer” she cried “Someone spiked my drink”

With a bottle of neat whiskey, I don’t think?

Marais’s trusty little blue Renault

Is now officially what one could call a no-go

My battled-scared rock star is back at work

Ready for the studio to go totally berserk

Let’s see how the day pans out as the seconds tick on by

I swear that in my head I can still hear the seagulls cry

Today so far I’ve had to find red dungarees and find the time

To complete a feedback form on an erstwhile colleague of mine

It’s hard to find politically correct and complimentary terms

To list the inefficiencies and the things she needs to learn

I think I did a pretty good job of it all things considered

Thinking about all the issues on which she has erred

The most fabulous thing about my day so far

Is that I found on my desk my new Vanity Fair

Packed with articles most enticing

And a cover that calls to me most inviting

I’ve had some news both happy and sad

My Jules is following in the footsteps of the lad

She plans to marry in the future near

Which means she will no longer be here

But our loss is certainly Cliffy’s gain

And I’ll toast to her engagement with fine French champagne

She’s shopping today for some sparkly thing

To adorn her finger, but not a ring

She’s never been one to stand on ceremony

And I hope she finds something with very very many

Beautifully cut diamonds, a girl’s best friend

Or barring that, a shiny new Mercedes Benz

I can empathize with the woman who thought who her drink was spiked

That feeling that you’ve been raped at some point during the night

My client just sent through a debrief that renders me dumb

Even Wayne maintains loudly that we’ve been done up the bum

Our beautiful illustrations have been reduced to microsize

Apparently the public isn’t interested in the prize

We have to use some clipart that should be rendered highly illegal

Oh how I wish I was still swimming with the seagulls

I think my laptop is fatally flawed

And shortly will have to be interred

In the bowels of IT for a full format function

Or I fear it and I are that junction

Where we may have to part on a permanent basis

Of course I will mourn my poor PC’s passing

But take strength that my grief will not be long lasting

I shall erect a monument to stand the test of time

For a laptop who has endured much

In the years it has been mine

Now I’ve spent a trying hour in my latest crusade

To find a new domestic or in plainer terms, a maid

For those of you who may think this is not a difficult task

There is a pressing question then that I must surely ask

Have you ever had to pay R3000 on your phonebill

Or replaced your entire wardrobe after a particularly nasty bleach spill

Or lost an antique dining room chair

I don’t know where it went, God only knows where

I hark back to the days of my faithful family nanny

Who although quite terrifying was undeniably canny

She outsourced our ironing and made dinner every night

If I overslept in the morning she would give me quite a fright

She never had a moment’s doubt that she was absolutely right

And organised every single aspect of our lives

On Saturday mornings my Dad and I

Would try to sneak out of the house on the sly

To avoid a breakfast made as the sun dawned in the sky

But that by 9am would make any gourmet cry

No matter how quietly, silently we snuck

She caught us every time and stood by to watch us tuck

Into congealed scrambled egg until we could finally escape

To Stephanie’s at Hyde Park for a double thick chocolate shake

Oh damn I had forgotten I have a job to do

To find an alternative line or two

About African horizons and opportunities new

And so my friends I must bid you now adieu

The Pussycat

The bane of every parent’s life has to be snack day

When you have to provide food for every kid for the day

Of course it slipped my mind

I never remember that kind of thing in time

I rushed off to the supermarket

In double-quick time to find it locked

I had to wait until opening time

And then stand in an enormous line

So the Princess has a feast for all her friends

And I bought them all chocolate to make amends

In a moment of divine justice coming true

I’m going holiday with the flu

Do you know what I don’t really care

I may be sick but I’ll be breathing sea air

I’m not at all sure that we’ll all survive

3 kids in a car on a seven hour drive

The thought that will sustain me throughout that grief

Is that soon it will be over and I’ll be in the sea

As for today in the studio

Marais has surpassed even Romeo

Today he sees himself as a pussycat

With the super sharp reflexes that come with that

As much as I am looking forward to

A week off without crises and much ado

I have to admit that I’ll miss the guys

The lows and highs that fill my hours

The nod of approval at the clothes I wear

The opening of doors and the pushing in of chairs

I’ll even miss the ribald remarks

For which Theo gets full marks

A whole week without them seems pretty dire

God I hope they don’t start a fire

Or give my desk to someone who they’ll love more than me

I’d never forgive them the infidelity

No matter how far it is I wander

Absence will make the heart grow fonder

Who knows they may even miss me too

Who will give Marias ten cents, I ask you who?

Christina will have to make him coffee all day long

And tell him that he’s got it all wrong

That the words are the most important thing

No-one gives a damn about the illustration

I don’t think she will though she’s an art director too

They gang up on pencil pushers in uncanny déjà vu

Thunder

I spent last night trying to write a song

Upbeat and catchy, simple and strong

It turns out I’m too much of a rock-chick

To write hip-hop, Kwaito shtick

It’s no real loss, it’s not quite my style

I find those genres a little hostile

Although I did sing along to Back in Black

A very retro AC/DC track

On the way to work this morning

Hard yes, but no parental lyric warnings

Some may think my children have been let down

Because they don’t know nursery rhymes

and how Jack broke his crown

But they rock along to Marilyn Manson,

The Pixies, the Cure and then some

Marais now reckons he’s one hot Romeo

A Shakespearian legend and a real pro

Although he may have bitten off more than he can chew

He’s got Christina making him coffee too

The suit is back and she’s blowing off steam

It would help if we could understand what on earth she means

I know that it all boils down to semantics

But this job is not for a bunch of romantics

With ideal visions of how things should be

Some misplaced Utopian fantasy

I’ve got a meeting all through lunch

I’ don’t need to eat, thanks a bunch!

Food, what’s that? My staple diet

Is a Slimma shake drunk quickly on the quiet

If someone were to catch me in the act of drinking

They’d think I was from my workload shrinking

And they wonder why I smoke

Its to quell the hunger pangs that at my stomach poke.

Don’t worry that I took an idea mediocre

And turned into something fucking super

Don’t worry that I wrote the entire presentation

Or that this job is my vocation

Don’t bother to tell me my presence isn’t needed

When I had actually proceeded

To get in my car and drive halfway there

Before you bothered to tell me I’d only use up air

So do me a favour and one for you too

Keep far out of my way for a week or two

You think you can handle this one on your own

Be my guest brother, this birdie has flown

Women throughout industries are always complaining

Of work place harassment and entertaining

Glances at cleavage most revealing

Well, sweetheart don’t show them at all

If you don’t men to hold them in thrall

Better yet why don’t you spare a glance

At the way you manipulate those wearing pants?

The tears and the weeping, the panic attacks

Do you think that’s professional? No thanks.

Here’s the thing sweetheart, your tears have me vexed

And they don’t work at all on the fairer sex

So have some Kleenex and blow your nose

When you’ve pulled yourself together let me know.

I’ve got over my moment of exasperation

I’ve had a rather sudden realization

That everything will work out right

That I only have one more long dark night

Before I’m off to tickle my toes in the sea

I’ve just had the grown-up equivalent of ten of the best

So my ass is smarting, but I passed the test

Faces turned as I walked the plank

But I gave a smile and remembered to thank

Each of the people who got me here

I remember your names, never fear

Apparently I’m filled with rage

Yup, you got it, we’re on the same page

I’ve had it with quick turnaround times

And kissing ass and queuing in line

To wait my turn like a good little girl

Walk in my shoes, come give it a whirl!

But I said my piece, it was quite cathartic

And I took my kick

in the ass like a man I might add

Forgive me, I really don’t mean to brag!

But as I said in the meeting

My very bad moods are actually fleeting

I’m going away for a long long while

I’m sure that I’ll return with a wide toothy smile

Is this your dagger I see before me?

One thing they do not teach in advertising schools

Is how to gladly suffer fools

Of course advertising is my entire life

And I’ll happily cancel my plans for tonight

Don’t worry about my family holiday

I didn’t really want to go anyway

I’m deeply sorry for your pitiful life

But if you take away mine I’ll take yours with a knife

My ass is yours from 9 to 5

After then you take a nose dive

Down my list of high priorities

Right down there with other minorities

The next little rant I think stands true

No matter what type of job you do

There are those, with thanks here to Shakespeare’s vision,

Who can smile and smile and be a villain

Who while seeming friendly are on another track

Just waiting to put a dagger in your back

The sad thing is they lack the courage

To say their piece right to your face

They are quite lacking in social grace

So some today I shall venture down there

And ask this young lady her issues to air

I know we’re heading for a showdown

It might become a bit of a hoedown

But harking back to what I said yesterday

Karma’s a bitch when she’s out to get paid

Am a cynical, control-freak bitch?

I’d rather be Glenda the Good Witch

With sparkly red shiny shoes

With magic powers so I can’t lose

I’d wave my wand and make it so

Like a Star Trek captain off I’d go

Next week I’m off to the sun and the sea

For long sweet cocktails and time for me

My phone will be off on a permanent basis

I’m going to spend the week in stasis

If you’ve got a crisis call 911

Don’t call me, I’ll be on the beach having fun!

I’ve been stuck meetings all day long

If I don’t fall asleep I won’t take a step wrong

I’m tired of hearing the same old thing

I’ll copy and paste your next BIG thing

You want a cherry on the top

A Tangerine, pop pop pop?

I think I’ve reached a critical mass

And lost my cool in this morass

Of crazy briefs with timing lines

Based on a quantum physics guideline

Where all things exist at the exact same time

I’d better shut up if I’d got nothing to add

And smile and nod as if I’ve gone mad

Glad, sad and bad bad bad

It won’t change the world it’s only an ad

I can’t sell things that just aren’t there

I can sell ice to Eskimos, but not empty air

All the creative in the world just won’t cut it

If you don't have the actual physical product

I’ll tell you what, let’s approach it like this

We’ll put in PowerPoint and then discuss it

Ad bloody nauseam. You write the agenda

I’ll put in the final addenda

So, what we are going to do for PR?

It turns out she hasn’t a clue thus far.

Don’t panic that we’re seeing the client tomorrow

I’m sure there’s some other strat we could borrow

To cover our asses and make her smile

So we can buy ourselves some time.

I love the woman I sit next to

She loud and proud and her name is Tsepho

Here’s her catch-phrase in case you care

“That’s some schizophrenic shit right there!”

It’s almost time to get on the road

If I meet Buddha I’ll let you know

The view from on high

Scott said something this morning off the cuff

His words rang true and were fair enough

“All great work pisses someone off”

They look down their noses and scoff

At anyone else’s thoughts on the matter

It doesn’t do any good to listen to their chatter

The sad truth is that

We listen to their crap

And even though we see through the bluster

We walk away believing we don’t pass muster

AH HA a moment of truth has arrived on the job

The buxom lady admits she’s too much of a snob

To make conversation with those beneath her

There’s no getting around it I have to confer

Her head’s held so high

The world passes her by

And one day she’ll realise it’s past her

As a result of this sad attitude

She has earned my eternal gratitude

For speaking to those she had shunned

I had a tremendous amount of fun

In her eyes that probably means

I have sunk in her high esteem

Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh me. Oh my

I’m so upset I just might die!

I’ve heard the funniest thing

Our ECD George is really a King

Let me give you a little background

We had a client in studio jackbooting around

So George walked up with a friendly greeting

And said “You’re the last creative I’ve had the pleasure of meeting”

“Oh no,” said the client, “I don’t belong here”

“I know,” Said George, “now GET OUTTA HERE!”

Rose has fallen amongst the thorns

It’s time to take the bull by the horns

The general consensus is to let Madam run

And watch as she falls flat on her bum

The thing about karma is that it’s a bitch

Eventually it’ll knock you flat with a pitch

Fork. So, we’ll let this one be

And for the moment let the Queen Bee

Do her thing and make some buzz

Give her the space to do what she does

Best. And then at the eleventh hour

We’ll all do ours and reestablish flower power

Marais feels cheated out of something

Because I’ve got in the habit of simply CCing

He needs a more personal touch it seems

And feels I’m coming apart at the seams

When it comes to being what he calls his “work wife”

I think he’s walking upon the thinnest of ice

Just in case Marc peruses this blog

“Work wife” does not mean we go the whole hog

What it boils down to is logistical issues

Making him coffee and passing him tissues

When the rigours of work become too much to bear

And then I send home to his real wife’s tender, loving care

I’d like to mention a good rule of thumb

Calling creatives at lunch is supremely dumb

What do they think traffic is there for

If not to listen to some suit-clad bore?

And don’t start apologizing for interrupting our meal

When you patently don’t feel

Sorry at all you insensitive heel!

Just leave us alone to eat in peace

And my productivity may yet increase

Now, this one poor client service chick

Is about to beaten over the head with a stick

You see there is a creative evolution

From artwork to DTP to client presentation

So, now she sits in an awkward position

As the work is nowhere near completion

I recall that great fundamental saying

about assumption and mothers and fuck-ups

leading to outcomes most dismaying

I think perhaps she needs reminding

Or barring that a bloody good hiding!

It’s getting to that time again

When I start thinking about putting down my pen

And wondering whose going to fetch the kids

And losing interest in BRRR bottle lids

Trying to think about what to have for dinner

If I didn’t eat anything I probably be thinner!

I'm gonna shoot the whole day down!

How best to start a Monday Morning

Then by running a tub and jumping in without warning

To a bath filled with melt water from some Artic glacier

You know what? I’m going back to bed, I’ll call you later

There are only two ways this day could go

It could get better or it could just blow

Scott’s making stuff purple ‘cause he can

I’m logging onto to Facebook to find a hit man

I’ve only got access between one and two

Man, oh man, you haven’t got a clue

Just how irritating it can be

When you’re then interrupted by your CD

I’ve got another one of those briefs you know

The type that make you grunt and groan

To write a call to entry for some competition or other

God knows how you enter, ask your mother

You may will a prize of some sort or not

I haven’t a clue, but you’ve missed a full stop

Stop! Stop! Stop! I’m losing my head

I knew I should’ve stayed in bed.

Theo’s had enough, he’s gone home with the flu

Christina should really be doing that too

She lost her MAC – been essentially downgraded

Bitter and twisted she’s feeling quite jaded

Marc sent me a pic of a wee little house

For a sweet little lady and her sweet little spouse

It's cute - maybe a little bit twee

Not so sure if it's really me

I get where they're going and it's pretty cool

If you toned down the pink and added a pool

It's a tad overpriced in my estimation

But a nice little spot for a family vacation

Is my meeting tomorrow at One?

Or Wednesday and Three when I'm on the run?

It depends who you talk to

If its false or its true

Well babyshoes, I'm leaving it up to you!

Marais is having a complete breakdown

Approval processes are getting him down

Timing schedules the stuff of nightmares

We don’t have time to start splitting hairs

Just sort something out and get out of here!

I must update you on our proud peacock

Today he got one hell of a shock

You see the company cat has illusions of grandeur

If I spoke cat I might have tried to warn her

That taking on a bird of that size

Is really quite frankly not all that wise

Then again the bird is perfectly dense

And he flew right into the electric fence

Now I've written some utterly fabulous rules

If they can't figure them out they're a royal bunch of fools

I've done my very very best

And now I'm taking a well-earned rest

Having a smoke and a cup of tea

Basically, what I'm saying is... That's me!

One Armed Bandit

And a fabulous weekend was had by all

In fact you might say we had a ball

Of a time or then you might not if it was your son

Who swallowed a five Rand coin for fun

My personal one arm bandit – ChaChing!

Now we stand by the loo listening for a telltale ching

Of money as hits the rim

As you can imagine it’s pretty damn grim

Nicole birthday party was fun and games

Forgive me I’m bad at remembering names

Otherwise I relaxed reading Mills and Boon

About handsome men and ladies who swoon

It’s enough to make you weak at the knees-y

Or just really really really queasy

Black & White

Scott is wearing a funny hat today

We’re celebrating Women’s Day

Apparently I was supposed to wear white

So I forgot! It slipped my mind alright?

I also forgot the twenty bucks entrance fee

And I’m wearing all black which looks like some bourgeoisie

Attempt to defy authority

Which it is not!

Christina and I did a quick cash run

Across the road in the bright bright sun

The ATMs have gone on the blink

Run out of money or run out of ink

So I stood in a queue and filled out a form

And waited around which is kinda the norm

In that type of place.

It turns out the drilling in my parking bay

Is transforming it for women’s day

Which is cool but then again not

If it fucks up my parking spot

After all as I have been heard to say

Someone died to give me that parking bay

Women’s Day. Ja, whatever.

I’ve escaped to hang out with the guys and drink beer.

Got a goody bag though filed with free stuff

Fabric softener, tampons and some other fluff

Oh and the best of all a Viagra pen

So you can write it again and again and again

It was sweet of the gals to arrange this deal

Not all that sure about the woman abuse spiel

A bit depressive for an upbeat day

Basically why I chose to run away

Spookasem

My traffic lady, name of Fee

Has hand lotion that smells of sweet strawberries

It takes me back to days gone by

Of candyfloss and blue blue skies

I have got taller, older and fatter

But a small kid’s feet still pitter patter

Somewhere behind all this blasé talk

Is a girl who would still rather skip than walk

Pea-Duck

I’ve just been crowned the Queen Bee

Scott left a crown on my desk for me

Frank bought me a snack for lunch

Definitely time to have something to munch

Christina ordered pizza, Sarah went on a date

Lunchtime ends at 2, better not be late

The date was apparently no oil painting

But Sarah’s not really complaining

He picked up the tab and let’s face it

In this day and age that’s pretty cool innit?

Theo’s got his work cut out

I knew I heard Dino shout

Marais looks like he could use a mug

Of strong black coffee – he is a bit of a drug

Addict when it comes to caffeine

Without his next hit he gets pretty mean

Then we can go for a smoke in the sun

Watch the peacock make another run

At the ducks. As beautiful as his tail feathers are

He just doesn’t get that a peaduck is just too damn bizarre!

Footnote:

Now my foot’s gone to sleep so I’m limping along

And I have to write some short catchy song

For a website that’s destined to shortly go phut

I really need a big kick in the butt

To stimulate some awesome creative idea

But all I can smell is Bacsa’s pizzeria

Hamsters

I have a new found consideration

For a wheelbound hamster in perpetual motion

I’ll say the same thing in a different way

The same basic shit on a different day

I’ve given my pencil a lethally sharp tip

So think before you give me some ill-timed lip

I’ve got a new job due for today

Bring out the strait jacket and take me away

“We’re going for Afro-futuristic fun

Think Zulu warrior with a laser gun”

I’m smiling but inwardly praying for luck

And screaming in silence, “What the …!”

I’ve got a new boss – did I tell you that

It’d be cool if he wore a funky hat

Cause that would rhyme. Really it’s just too bad

After his very first week no doubt he thinks we’re all mad

He's not far wrong if that’s the case

Some asshole is drilling a hole in my parking space

And the noise is driving us up the wall

But its all for one and one for all

A brief just came in and we had a kickstart

No-one could call me a bleeding heart

I have no time for a lack of info

Even to save some poor starving muso

The boss just came by and he’s wearing a hat!

I bet you don’t even believe that.

Moo Moo Madness

A day in the life of Brand Activation

Is like the launch desk at the NASA space station

Everyone talking at the top of their voices

Like a JSE trader making his choices

The tap tap tap of keyboard keys

Great ideas cut off at the knees

The sickly smiles of client service AEs

Do they even know how to put in their briefs?

Each day that we sit here, we silently turn

Into characters from Harry Potter rerun

I’ve propped up my broom on the back of my chair

My crystal ball’s gone in for repair

Marais thinks he is the creative shit

Cutting down Dino with acerbic wit

Scott’s drawing cartoons of the dumb things we say

Wayne has simple disappeared for the day

Christina’s just become the comeback kid

And Theo’s looking at everyone’s tits

The rest of the country is out on strike

But here we are working all though the night

Marais reckons we motivated by passion and love

It can't be the cash ‘cause there’s never enough

He just might be right, for I haven’t a clue

Why I write some of the lines that I do

Why we do what we do and we are what we are

We all might be mad when viewed from afar

Have a nice day now, don’t have a cow

Scott’s got some moo moos if you need some to chow

Theo and Dino are boxing clever

I think we’re stuck here forever and ever