Corporate Branding

Oh My God!

The place where I work has gone completely insane. Good thing is they’ve selected a nice ‘clinical’ hospital colour to promote a soothing and anxiety free atmosphere…… LIME FUCKING GREEN?….. what the hell. Why not just say “welcome to the 70’s, we’re that far behind”….. she-it…. at least that’s a little less unsettling then “we bought sanatarium surplus colourschemes on the cheap”.

How about truth in advertising? Try something that will actually appeal to school leavers “your parents will be 500km’s away!” We want students before de-regulation hits in 2012 and the big Universities can actually accept all those folks that had them as their first choice…

Since the new Logo has hit I’ve talked to about 20 odd people about it, and I haven’t heard a single positive comment. So with that in mind I wonder if any market research was ever undertaken, outside the designer and a few LSD addled party animals at the local cafe. Oh, and apparently if you shrink the logo and black & white it it isn’t flattering at all… that and the required font & signature on emails makes them unreadable on i-phones, blackberry, and small monitors. 

….. I want to be in Spin. Even the presenter apparently couldn’t discern the difference between a brand and a logo. We aren’t all lifer up here, most of the staff here have come from much bigger, usually corporate entities….. Hell, what sort of selling power is this thing supposed to have anyway?

West Update

The image says it all

 

and from wishful thinking to true batshit madness

 

9-11 Wisdom

Today being that big day on the American calendar (9-11) I though I should share some of the nuggets of … errr… wisdom I’ve accumulated through the years

If it looks too good to be true… it is

If a guy proposes in a truly uninspiring location and without a good delivery there are three possible reasons 1) He’s hoping you’ll say no, but he’ll always have the “but I asked” card 2) He’s a stupid jerk 3) Because every time he gets you in a suitably romantic situation you mention that “it would be a great place/time/moment to propose” and thereby leach and spontaneity / originality from the intended gesture.  

If you think your life can’t get any worse read Fail My Life

It doesn’t matter how in love you are as a guy, you’ll still be checking out the ‘smooth-skins’ that pass you by. However your internal monologue does tend to change over the years from “wow.. if I was single I would so hit that” to “if I was single, fifteen years younger, fifteen years stupider, and willing to put up with childish bullshit, I’d hit that”

Every cloud has a silver lining. Especially when we’re talking rain clouds and thin cotton linings.

Blow-Jobs do not indicate a committment. Flowers do.

Some people are morons, and many are proud of that fact. Just nod and walk away.

The things you care about can wound you, be picky about where you invest your emotions.

Nerd girls rock!

If a woman tells you that “life is empty and meaningless, I’m going to end it all” this is your opportunity to borrow her body for a few days. On the upside if you’re not complete crap she might get interested in life again, and if you are complete crap… who is she going to tell?

It’s a trap

Teachers and Nurses….. the rule of thumb is that the more ‘proper’ the public face has to be, the more freaky they are behind closed doors.

It doesn’t matter how much love you feel, how overwhelming the passion, how sure you are that this is the love of your life….. bestiality is still messed up.

Dating a prostitute isn’t as much fun as you might think.

If your going to play slaps 1) avoid the girl the bouncer lusts after 2) be warned, not everyone will slap you, in fact some will take you up on your offer no matter how twisted/perverted/strange it is.

If you don’t try it you’ll never know.

Christian girls aren’t always good girls. The ones that are, aren’t much fun. The ones that see-saw between mad-animalistic-lust and guilt, are fun for a while. The ones that embrace their inner-slut are keepers.

Guys think they want a nymphomaniac virgin….. but are unable to deal with it when they get either

Girls want a man they can change a little….. but get disappointed with the guy if they succeed.

Women spend hours getting ready for a night out, which a) makes them late, b) results in a crappy mood when they receive no male attention in reward for all this effort c) disappoints them when they discover that a woman at the club is wearing the exact same outfit as them.

Always apply the anal sex rule…. if it hurts, don’t do it.

Men find appropriate clothes with a smell test. The ones that don’t aren’t looking to pick up women.

If I don’t call you the next day its because 1) I think that you’ll think I’m a stalker 2) I can’t find your number 3) It’s on my to do list 4) I think you hate me after what I did/said

Vaccination Paranoia

Good News Those philosophically opposed to vaccines are often allowed to refuse vaccination for their children.

Bad News Children are starting to die. Diseases almost eradicated by the vaccination programs are on the rise with completely preventable deaths from meningitis and whooping cough occurring in poverty-stricken third world locations like Pennsylvania and Minnesota…. oh wait…. maybe not third world.

The blindness of parents is causing the deaths of children mainly due to a statistically non-significant link alleged between vaccinations and autism. If you’ve been informed of the link I suggest you read Paul Offit’s Autism’s False Prophets to get a look at the real picture before you put your child’s life at risk over a remote chance they may develop autism.

Hey, don’t get me wrong, an autistic child is a burden for life, whereas a dead child gives us a reason to feel sorry for ourselves even as we pat ourselves on the back for being open-minded and not bowing to the pharmaceutical industry.

Fear not, such medical geniuses as Jenny McCarthy (America’s saint of spanking the monkey 1980 to 1990) and Jim Carey (Think he may have played a doctor once? Or was it a television technician?) have come out as champions of the anti-vaccination movement. With rubber face and plastic girl at the forefront of the war on preserving children’s lives we’ll have small-pox and black death back in no time.

Before smallpox was eradicated with a vaccine, it killed an estimated 500 million people. And just 60 years ago, polio paralyzed 16,000 Americans every year, while rubella caused birth defects and mental retardation in as many as 20,000 newborns. Measles infected 4 million children, killing 3,000 annually, and a bacterium called Haemophilus influenzae type b caused Hib meningitis in more than 15,000 children, leaving many with permanent brain damage. Infant mortality and abbreviated life spans — now regarded as a third world problem — were a first world reality. – Amy Wallace Wired Nov 2009

Well at least we know why the male parents are listening to this… well maybe not listening so much as nodding dumbly while trying to wipe the drool of their chins. I too flash back to the Jenny of Yore before she put the MILF into medical quackery and scare mongering.

Jenny McCarthy M.D. (Medical Doffus)

The worth of a Life

When I was young and stupid(er) I never understood what life insurance was for.

“So I die horribly, and as a direct I get paid? What the hell am I going to spend that money on, I’m frigging DEAD! ”

Now I’m old(er) and wiser I fully understand the senario.

“So my partner dies horribly, and as a direct result, I get rich? Pass me the icepick.” 

 

Have you ever taken something apart, had a look inside, then carefully put everything back only to realise you have all these leftover bits?

That’s sort of why I’m not a surgeon any more.

This makes me sick

Man’s inhumanity to man doesn’t really get to me that much. Strange isn’t it?

A small war pops up, too small for the rest of the world to really care, thousands die before sundown and I’ m not moved. It’s expected. Humans are nasty, violent creatures. We’re capable of wonderous things, but when resources are short we are more savage then the so called ‘beasts’.

Then I see things like this, and I get moved to a state somewhere between sadness and rage…. not sure exactly what to call it. What I do know is that it makes me want to reach down the internet and strangle the shit out of people who say it “doesn’t really matter” because the rapture is just around the corner again.

People have been crying that since Jesus slipped on his flip-flops and told people to be “excellent to one another”.

Some bad news according to Matthew 23:36 & 24:34 & 16:28 either we’re all descendants of ancestors that come from the ‘unworthy’ pool and didn’t get to bodily ascend, or there were vampires/immortals in the crowd that day.

Testify Brother!!!!

TESTIFY!!!

It is often mistakenly believed that the term testify comes from an early practice of cupping testicles while giving oath.. hence testament.

OUCH!!!

from the Judeo-Christian practice of screaming like a little girl after doing something that is both religiously inspired and totally moronic.

Leonor Varela

A Chilean actress that has moved onto the bright lights of Hollywood. Definitely an impressive looking woman.

Laisa Andrioli

This soccer babe hails from Brazil, a nation with an unfair distribution of gorgeous women. With women like this running around the field it is no wonder soccer is the worlds most followed code, I mean I’d follow her just about anywhere… sure beats the hirsute, sweaty guys on the men’s team.

Naousa 1823

Battlefield in Greece

Date: 1823
Location:Naousa

It didn’t actually hurt anymore. Probably not a good sign since he was lying in a pool of his own blood. The wound was deep, and if it opened again he wouldn’t last long. On the other hand it was surprisingly comfortable here, lying on the corpse of a largish Janissary. The sun was too bright in this land, even the air smelt wrong. So strange that he could smell anything above the stench of voided bowls and violated flesh of the soldier underneath him. Still wondering about the smell he watched the sun split into three, spin about the sky, and then blink out.

It was dark now. Not good, he’d lost hours; no idea how many. Next time he slipped into sleep he might not wake again. For a moment he considered taking out the small knife he kept in his sleeve and finishing the job the Turk’s sabre had started, but really he didn’t have the will. Not that it mattered, he was starting to see and hear things now. Not far away he could make out clearly a French nobleman, resplendent in decadent refinery, calmly sifting through a pile of dead Greeks. The French had gutted his city less then a decade ago before being driven off by the viciousness of the Russian winter, and now they were here. Typical bloody French.

He giggled to himself and the apparition spun at an alarming speed to look at him. It said something, no doubt in French, and he responded with a rude phrase he’d picked up from a particularly angry whore back in Moscow. The man scowled and, no doubt picking up on his accent, said something in broken Russian. That was simply hilarious. The apparition tried a few times more, but he couldn’t reply even if he wanted too, he was giggling too much, well more of a croak then a giggle, lubricated only by the blood from cracked lips. Darkness took him once more in mid chuckle.

It was light again, far away he could hear others scavenging the dead, but right now he was fixated on a small skin on the Janissary’s belt. He apologised to the slowly swelling man, it wouldn’t be polite to upset someone nice enough to act as his pillow, even as he struggled to reach the skin with its mouthful of water. It was amazing how much effort this was taking, and in small moments of lucidity he realised just how pathetic his efforts to sustain his life just a little longer really were, yet he couldn’t stop.

Dark again. Not sure how that happened. The skin was empty and the Frenchman was back, looking down at him. They icy blue eyes above him were dead inside, and around the mouth of the man was dried blood. The mouth was moving, but all he could pay attention to were the teeth, pointy, vicious. Even in his state he knew a Voordalak stood above him, he didn’t care about the odd words that penetrated his fogged mind “survivor”, “tithe”, “toy”. The monster was bending over him now, forcing its mouth onto his. Cold hands held his head motionless, an obscene kiss forcing his mouth open. There was a vile taste as something gushed down his throat, something cold, sticky, and foul. The blood of the dead and dying, regurgitated by a monster from his grandmothers bedtime tales, poured into him, burning his soul even as it revitalized his flesh.

“Stand up and walk”, it commanded :“I’m not carrying you”.

He rose from his putrefying deathbed, a dying man newly filled with stolen life, and a damned vampire in a lace collar. He couldn’t help it, he laughed even as he followed. Laughed at the absurdity of it all, laughed at how foolish he had been to scoff at the old tales, laughed at the site of a bloodstained Frenchman standing outside the walls of Naoussa.

“Oh yes, you’ll be perfect for the bitch” the monster muttered as he eyed his new acquisition with disdain.