K confesses

It began when I talked about my other half coming home pissed off his face. Not gramatically correct, but K claims to think that I said someone had peed on his face. I think he just wanted to share this little story with us...

"You know those big town houses in London where you can see the bottom windows through bars on the floor? Well me and my mate were drunk one night and we really needed to pee. And we could see a kitchen sink through the bars. So we started to pee anyway and half way through the light goes on! We had to run away, and because we were drunk, we'd decided to pull our trousers right down to the bottom."

To which CD said, "I can safely say that if that was my flat, I would've gone out there with a carving knife."

Good to know there are still people out willing to chop up others who pee on their windows.

Soundbites #5

Pulled pork - you can see where this is going
Uncle Bum:    Do you pull eachother's pork?

Charming the police
Golden Boy:   I  managed to avoid an £80 fine for peeing in the street on Friday.

Another Boom philosophy
Boom:            It's not gay if you don't push back.

Soundbites #4

Seems Golden Boy's on a mission to be the most 'sound-bit' guy on here, no matter how small, silly or crude the comment. And to outshine Boom is saying something.

Cashews and K
Golden Boy: Hands off my nuts!

How to hand in your expenses
Golden Boy: Make sure you give it to one of the girls.
                     That was my plan of attack.
                     Walk in and say 'So who wants it?'

(No title makes this acceptable)
Boom:           You gonna dip it in her?
Golden Boy:  We'll see what happens.
                      (Hushed, so that I wouldn't hear I imagine, and a bit seedy quite frankly)
                       Dip it in her sherbert?

The origins of 'K gets touched up by his uncle'

I wasn't aware that this one needed clearing up, but The Men did. So let's set the record straight.

Golden Boy:  We were winding up X and Y in the pub on Friday and it was going how it always does. And K ended up asking ‘where’s the best place to get attacked round here?’  
K:                  No – it was that moron who said that.
Boom:           And we said by the hospital so that we don’t have to pay for a cab.

There. Don't we fell better to have sorted that?

Poo

It's one of those things that boys find ridiculously funny. Me, not so much. But yesterday I was in the inescapable presence of The Men, and the conversation was focused firmly on poo.

We'd been travelling to Manchester for an awards do - no silly stories I'm afraid - I don't remember any details. Travel time was about 4 hours all in, and Big Boss was in need of the loo (that's all he really needed to say). But no. The conversation (or school boy slang) went something like this.

Big Boss:     I'm going to need to drop off the kids... bit of a turtlehead.

And so he went to the toilet. Uncle Bum also went to the toilet, thank goodness or we'd have missed out on this detail. 

Brainy:          Is he still in there?

Uncle Bum:   Sounds like he's got a battle on his hands. He's showing it what for.

Nice. These people are my superiors. Am I supposed to match their conversation?

Balls

K doesn’t like being referred to as K. I think he wanted to be known as ‘Super cool hero man’. Not going to happen. He would've prefered 'Golden Boy', even though I’ve explained that it refers to his ego (or the ego I think he has, and I do, in the nicest way possible).

So a debate began about ‘Golden Boy’, which led to quick references to both golden showers and David Beckham aka Golden Balls. The conversation went something like this…

Golden Boy:  It makes me think of David Beckham.
K:                  But he's called Golden Balls.
Golden Boy: But mine aren’t gold. They’re made of silver.
K:                  Mine are iron – that’s why I walk like that.
Golden Boy:  I though it was because of what Boom does to you (with an impression of how one might walk with balls made of iron - or if attacked by Boom).

Bless Boom, he’s not even here but he’s still good to use for innuendo. He’d definitely be telling us in much detail about what his are made of. He’s missed.

And that's quite enough use of the term 'balls' for one day.

When the cat's away...

...apparently nothing happens. Nothing at all. CD is the culprit in bringing out the boy in The Men. And we were all so quick to blame poor Boom. 

So nothing of note happened today. The occasional "I'm taking my ball and I'm going home" type of thing, and a discussion about whether a threesome is something you only do when drunk, or if it's a decision you're more likely to make sober.

Hmm.

Soundbites #3

Discussing the Traffic system
Big Boss: Are you in my area?
The Men: Giggle, giggle, giggle, snigger.

CD sing-song – to the tune of “Talk”
CD: Take a picture of someone’s winkie

Getting a Haribo
Boom: She’s touching me up here!

Golden Boy is pleased with self
Golden Boy: I didn’t pee once the whole way back from America!

More urinal speak
K: I’m worried about his splash-back, never mind my own!

Something the MadMen didn't have

CD and The Writer elaborated on the 'fly on the toilet' issue and look at what they sent me. This was a genuine enquiery on my behalf, so it's not really a moan. At least he sent me flowers.

The Fly

The Mouth

The Flowers








Seen any yourself?

Enlightening

You know the bit in Mad Men where they talk about having a pee? No? Well, no, obviously not. You know that bit in your office where they talk about how accurately they can do it? Of course you do.

The Writer:    That’s why they have the flies in men’s urinals – to improve accuracy.
K:                   What?
The Writer:    Have you seen the little fly, painted fly?
K:                   I obviously don’t go in men's loos very often but I’ll be looking out for it.
The Writer:    Well it makes men pee straight.
Golden Boy:  Surely they would have thought about just making it deeper.
The Writer:    Well…
Golden Boy:  If you pee down a hole it’s more accurate.
The Writer:    Yeah...
Golden Boy:  They had it right with a piece of wood with a hole in.

Ladies don't have anything like this. We don't have a 'toilet target', so this was genuinely fascinating. You learn something new every day. You really do.

Ego #1

The Men often mock each other for things like running ability, new haircut, clothes - pretty bitchy actually. But deep down, they've all got their little egos. They're not arrogant per se, they're actually quite modest - even Boom.

None of them are a Jude Law, Brad Pitt or Karl Kennedy - and that's ok. Although one of our digital guys, and we'll call him K, thinks he's a bit of a Gerard Butler. GERARD BUTLER. As is the beefcake in 300 and heartthrob in PS I Love You.

He quite simply and seriously said, "I know someone who thinks I look like Gerard Butler". It was like me saying I look like Audrey Hepburn. But dead serious.

What makes this funnier is that the whole office, and really do mean the entire office, thinks he looks like... drum roll please... Jason Grimshaw. Not Gerard Butler. See the difference? (He also looks like my friend Tom, but you don't know who that is).

Bless.

The caring Creative Director

The other writer is off sick today. Aww. He’s a 6ft, running skinhead, but he can’t handle a bit of seafood.

So he rang in this morning and explained that he had some dodgy oysters at the Thames Festival and is a bit worst for wear. But when The Writer was asked what the problem was, his answer wasn’t met with the suspected toilet humour, but one step further – “Got carried away and did himself an injury with the Mrs last night!” Thanks CD. And it wasn't even 10 am yet. I know who not to call in sick to.

Is this unprofessional? Or just another giggling schoolboy moment?

Keep it clean?

Good use of Youtube

Golden Boy sent this link round to all the creatives. It's a fun use of Youtube and is the kind of thing that we need to do. But as you'll find out, you get to interact with it. I don't want to give anything away but you can imagine the kind of things the Men put in (and I had a go, too). You might be surprised how rude you can be and actually get a result!

Let me know what you put in, and what happened.

More soundbites

Boom is sweet
"I've just seen the fittest bird in the that shop. Ever!"

I knew where this was going
"Has she asked for a headline?"
"No."
"Is it on the brief?"
"No. But I can give her one." Deathly silence. "So to speak."

CD's encouragement
"I think I might be off next week."
"You smell off."

Advertising gold
"We buy any bra! We buy any bra!" - Prizes for guessing the theme tune.

Celebrating Life

This internal phenomenon was kicked off by our Artworker, who we’ll call Boom. He’s a young lad, so we can forgive his childish antics most of the time and just roll our eyes and carry on.

Celebrating Life is one of them, which I will share with you, and maybe you’ll share with others – as subtle as it isn’t.

Basically, men smell (not the most profound or eloquent thing I’ve ever written). And they don’t mind making smells. Lady present doesn’t mean a thing where we come from, but bless Boom, he’s established a way of publicising his bodily functions, without everybody having to know about it.

Cue, ‘Ooh, celebrating life’. The reason (or excuse) behind this, is that if you’re happy in yourself, enjoy the life you live, everything you do is a way of celebrating it. This includes farting. Grim. And now the whole Creative Team have adopted this gentile way of warning others, without making ‘outsiders’ feel uncomfortable.

And they say chivalry is dead.

They've got me surrounded

20% of the time, I work with Men. There are nine Men in my team. And me. Alone. There are women in the office, but there's no-one to really go to to avoid 'The Men'.

80% of the time, I work with Boys - and all that comes with that; toilet humour, innuendo and general stupidity. The easiest way to demonstrate the high-school situation I find myself in is to use sound bites.

The Writer sings too
“I took a picture of doing a wee” - sung to the intro tune of Talk by Coldplay.

The Kit Kat debate
“Kit Kat?”
“Yeah, Kit Kat. Fingers or Chunky?”
“Ooh, Chunky.”
“Yeah, but I do a finger.”
“No, Chunky fingers.”

Hiring an actress
“She’s much cheaper.”
“Gives you a cheap blowy.”

There are worse, both here, and at yours, I’m sure. Care to share?

Don Draper vs my Creative Director

Don Draper is your ideal Creative Director – even though technically he’s a writer. He’s the embodiment of debonair. And although his way with women and commitment issues leave a lot to be desired, you still see him as a true gentleman.

My Creative Director? A gentleman, no question. Intelligent, polite and very professional. But along with this down-to-earth, approachable style, we get the infantile boy every now and then.

So I’m sitting at my desk – we sit in ‘banks’ rather than offices, so we’re all quite close and chatty – and I hear another writer giggle. Mid-thirties and he’s giggling like a schoolboy. “Look! Look at that,” he laughs. I’ve been here long enough to know that whatever I am about to see I probably don’t want to. My CD has picked up a rotting cucumber from the kitchen and is holding it at his waist, (cue ‘creative juices’ jokes) wiggling it in an Artworker’s ear. It was over as soon as I turned my head – “Not for you to see” he says.

Brilliant. Peggy has respect and adoration for Don. He’s her creative hero. If he were to wave a phallic object in a colleague’s ear, she’d be fairly mortified. Not me. Just my CD (and we’ll call him CD from now on) having a bit of a junior moment – which makes a change from the senior ones.

Moral of the story? Put mouldy veg (or should that be fruit?) in the bin. And bosses are wallies (especially when pretending to have green willies).

Ultimately, male colleagues are a different species - deal with it. Agree?