How to get ahead in advertising
Splendid night at my running club tonight (yes, I belong to a running club. Yes, it's kind of lame, much like Lycra Dave and his dodgy calf. Yes I only did it to meet women. No, I haven't met any women yet).Anyway, point being that Reebok had come along to cast runners for an advert they are filming.
Sounds dreadful doesn't it?
Then again, does it still sound dreadful at £250 a day for 3 days work AND if they use footage of you, another £1000 to £2000?
So we signed up. Well, strictly speaking, Dave signed up as I need to hold my holiday in reserve for the media interviews that will be the inevitable result of Super Secret Project (now scheduled for mid Feb).
So, Dave, seeing a bunch of people in a room, filling in forms and getting a polaroid taken, decides to sign up.
He fills in the form. He gurns for the snap. So far so good.
Then they say, "Right, now can you go to the corridor for your video audition please."
Oh.
So into the corridor we go (well, I couldn't let him do it without someone to point and laugh could I?) where a woman with a video camera is making people run on the spot and 'improvise a short speech'.
Improvise? Good Lord, what is this, Whose Line Is It Anyway?
So what does our Dave pick to improvise his story about? How much he loves Reebok shoes perhaps? Nope.
How about just a general chat about how much fun it can be working in a Vietnamese sweatshop? Sadly no.
Projectile vomiting? Could be.
Nice one Dave.
Don't call us, as they say.
posted by Peter The Great @ 10:13 PM
2 Comments:
Yikes.
Refrerring back to your recent post on the utter uselessness of pandas, I thought that you would be interested to see this little snippet:
" A panda has been put on a month-long diet to avoid squashing his partner during sex. It was feared 150kg Chuiang Chuang would be too heavy for his five-year old, 115kg mate, Lin Hui. Chuang Chuang, a six-year old, will also be shown 'panda porn' to get him in the mood for breeding, officials at Thailand's Chiang MaiZoo said."
Panda dieting...
I had the same sort of thing with Nicole, where I was afraid of being crushed during the act of love (actually a grotesque rutting union comprising of obscene grunts and squelches).
In our case, however, she continued to swell up like a ripe tomato on an Italian window cill and we split up. Shame really.
The vomiting wasn't with reference to me, by any chance, was it ?!
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