Archive for Marketing

Packed To The Rafters With Gormlessness!

Posted in Shit That Sucks & Blows with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 10, 2010 by Buck Frain

A top psychologist has come out to warn fucking idiots obsessed with a piece-of-shit TV show that the death of a fictional character may cause them to feel an emotion. A major news outlet scrambled to alert an apathetic and increasingly gorm-deficient populace to this inconsequential drivel in the hope they could avoid having to report any of the significant events or issues that might warrant genuine social consideration.

If people start feeling emotions about things that aren’t real, they reasoned, it’s a real possibility that they may one day experience an emotion about something that is real. If this happened, then it’s down the slippery slope to people forming considered opinions about the world they live in and even taking actions towards making it a better place. This sort of thing could seriously threaten big business.

Fuck you, Australia, for taking it! Fuck you, Channel 7, for producing the flyblown arse that is Packed to the Rafters! Fuck you again for trying to disguise blatant plugs for your own TV show as legitimate news! – Yes, they seriously tried to pass plot plugs for the show as genuine news that implied that an actor had died! – And fuck you to the psychologist, Dr. Jan Hall, who thinks that experiencing emotions is something that the public need to be warned about! Are you fucking serious? I mean, are we as a society so alienated from our emotions that we need a public warning about the catastrophic grief we may experience at the loss of a fictional character on a TV show? Get fucked!

“Tell yourself it’s only a TV show, exercise to release the ‘happy drugs’ in your body, or watch a soppy DVD that makes you have a good cry,” she said.

Fuck the fucking fuck right off! Seriously, Dr Hall, do you actually think that people have forgotten the purposes and possible effects of drama? People empathising with fictional characters and experiencing emotions as a result of fictional events? What the cunting shit do you think has been going on for the last 2000 years? Theatre and catharsis – ring any bells? You fucking stupid cunt! JUST FUCKING DIE!!!

A massive FUCK YOU has to go out to The Herald Sun for giving any of this even the slightest consideration. YOUR ORGANISATION SHOULD BE OBLITERATED FOR CRIMES AGAINST THE NATIONAL INTELLECT!!!

By the way, the two million people who watch that excremental suburban banality should be set on fire for their lack of imagination or taste. Gormless fucks! I’m serious, I fucking hate you all!

All-in-one Kitchen Revolution!

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 4, 2010 by Buck Frain

Amazing breakthrough technology. 

Imagine a device so flexible and multi-purposed that it allowed you to throw away virtually all of your cumbersome kitchen appliances in one go.

It’s a slow-cooker, it’s a rice cooker, a bread maker, pie maker, fryer, boiler, roaster, steamer, griller and more. Entrees, mains, desserts, it can do them all. It make a thanksgiving dinner for the whole family, it can toast bread, it can even make you a cup of tea or coffee!!!

Anything you need to cook that requires heat can be prepared to gourmet chefs’ standards using this one device. 

How much would you pay for such an appliance? 

How about NOTHING AT ALL? 

Too good to be true? 

Not so! 

In Australia every house either rented or sold has one of these devices ALREADY!!! 

Yes, you miserable shit-sucking fuckholes, IT’S YOUR FUCKING OVEN!!! 

LEARN TO FUCKING USE IT AND STOP TWATTING ON ABOUT DOUCHEBAG, STUPID, PIECE-OF-SHIT APPLIANCES YOU’VE BEEN CONNED INTO BUYING BECAUSE YOU’RE A CUNTING USELESS PIECE OF MINDLESS EXCREMENT!!! 

LEARN TO COOK OR KILL YOURSELF AND SHUT THE  FUCK UP BECAUSE I’M FUCKING TIRED OF IT!!!

Water On The Motherfucking Moon!

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 14, 2009 by Buck Frain

water_moon

With almost 100 Angry Place posts up and on the cusp of 100,000 hits, I interrupt the normal flow of meaningless drivel about celebrity pet diets and bizarre sexual fetishes of the rich and famous to bring you this exciting news: There’s water on the motherfucking Moon, bitches! Yep, that’s right, actual, physical Earth-style fucking water, right up there on the fuck-me-dead-it’s-not-really-made-of-cheese Moon. Those super-smart motherfuckers at NASA took a big ol’ gamble with an arseload of public money and crashed a spacecraft into The Moon. Right the fuck into it!  – gotta be the first time the cunts can celebrate a crash – They collected some of the debris and proved once and for all there is water on The Moon. FUCKING WOW!!!… But…actually, what does this mean?

One school of thought suggests that it means we can set up a long-term base on the moon – presumably for astronauts to twat about taking really cool photos of Earth rising and setting before one or more of them goes bat-shit crazy from cabin fever and murders everyone else on the base – because all you really need is an abundance of water, a digital camera and of course a webcam to chart your mental decline. Amazingly, there’s no shortage of lonely scientists already signing up for that mission.

Another school of thought has it that when we’ve completely trashed the Earth – and we’re nearly there – we can all colonise The Moon for a few tens of thousands of years or until it all grows back. Obviously, this is a genius plan because The Moon is a total shit-pile so we can’t possibly make it any worse than it is already. Unfortunately, it’s an idea that’s in complete denial of our basic nature. It relies on our species being able to co-operate, not kill each other and live within our limited means in an unbelievably hostile and ultra-spartan environment. Personally, I can’t see it happening. As a species humans suck the bag. We breed, consume and pollute without giving it any more thought than protozoa does, and living on a shit-pile like The Moon isn’t going to improve our basic nature one iota. 

Of course, any hope of even that slim avenue of salvation will disappear if NASA don’t get armed people up there fucking pronto because now there’s a space race on between the Evian and Perrier companies to see who can be the first to secure and market the most exclusive and expensive bottled water in the known universe. Get a military presence on the Moon. IMMEDIATELY!!!

perrier_moon_water

If you can afford to drink water imported from the moon, writing your name on a hot chick’s arse has to be a piece of piss!

On Cutting The Cheese.

Posted in Random Shit That Gives Me The Cunt with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 11, 2009 by Buck Frain

No, this is not about farts.

Mainland_Cracker_Cuts

I love innovation, I really do, but there has to be a fucking limit. Mainland Cracker Cuts. What the shit-spread toast is wrong with people? Little packets of pre-cut, cracker-sized squares of cheese. WHAT THE FUCK??? I realise cheese slices are not new and while I find them somewhat degrading to cheese I accept that jaded mums with too many lunches to pack in the morning, sandwich bars and burger joints can’t survive without them. It’s not usually even real cheese but I’ll accept that there is a need of sorts for that product even if really it’s only laziness disguised as a need. Likewise, pre-grated cheese I can see serves a purpose – you’re making pizzas, last thing you want is to spend an hour grating your knuckles into the cheese. I can cope with that. 

But Mainland Cracker Cuts are a different matter. This is not a product aimed at someone frantically churning out sandwiches or making pizzas as fast as they can. This is a product for some gormless middle class cunt who just can’t be fucked cutting cheese for his cracker to accompany the bottle of Shiraz he knocks back after dinner. There’s no pressure, there’s no rush – it’s cracker time, for fuck’s sake! WHAT SORT OF ABOMINABLE SHIT-SACK CAN’T BE ARSED CUTTING HIS OWN FUCKING CHEESE??? GET YOUR BUTLER TO DO IT YOU DIRTY FUCKER!!! It’s no more work to cut a slice of cheese than it is to unseal the re-closable packet and pull the pre-cut slice out. Even without putting down the glass of red you can manage to cut cheese, assemble it onto a cracker and put it in your mouth. HOW FUCKING LAZY ARE YOU??? WHAT, ARE YOU IN PRISON? DON’T THEY LET YOU HAVE KNIVES??? WHAT SORT OF PRISON LETS YOU EAT CHEESE AFTER LIGHTS OUT??? 

Now just to get things straight, I’m a big fan of Mainland cheeses. They make some pretty bloody good cheeses and I am a regular buyer of their Colby, Tasty and Vintage to name but three. So this has nothing to do with me having a problem with the company, however, the cretinous, pony-tailed marketing ballbag who came up with this idea should be fucking horse-whipped, castrated with a rusty cheese knife and choked to death with his own balls. Mainland Cracker Cuts are an insult to a species with opposable thumbs and tool-making abilities. We’ve been using knives for 2.5 million years. They are a mark of our humanity. If you can’t be bothered using a knife to cut your cheese then I say get the fuck back to the jungle and eat berries, you fucking chimp! YOU DON’T DESERVE CHEESE!!! 

If I ever visit someone’s house and find they have these shitting Cracker Cuts in their fridge I’ll just fucking snap the carrot and kill them. I’M FUCKING SERIOUS!!! Even if they are a friend, even if I love them, it’s a sure sign that they’ve lost the fucking plot and the only reasonable response to it is pure, undiluted murderous rage. IF YOU WANT CHEESE ON A CRACKER, CUT IT YOUR CUNTING SELF!!!

Confidence – if your singing career’s gone to crap, just get your tits out!

Posted in Wankers In Denial with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 11, 2008 by Buck Frain

What the fuck’s going on in the world? I thought I had a fair handle on it all, the 80’s were over and even The Church Of Scientology was failing to help Kate Ceberano from fading into obscurity where she belongs. All of a sudden everywhere I turn, on bus shelters and the appropriately-obsolete phone boxes there she is: moose-jawed, proud-as-punch, showing off her tits.

Those who know me will understand how out-of-character it is for me to complain about tits on display – I’m a big fan of breasts. I guess, I just don’t really need Kate’s. Again, I’m glad she’s not singing and before everyone goes mental – yes, I do applaud the use of models with real bodies as opposed to the photoshopped, surgically-enhanced skeletons who resemble pre-pubescent boys that we’re usually bombarded with.

What I don’t like is the Ceberano. Considering all the impoverished but talented, hard-working musicians out there, Kate Ceberano has made a killing out of being complete bollocks. It’s an insult, it’s a travesty, it gives me the CUNT!!! And then to top it all off, when she should have crawled off to die quietly in a corner somewhere, when even the deaf wankers who liked her have forgotten her and jumped on the Andrea Bocelli band-wagon, she turns up again as wank-fodder for the homeless. I’m fucked if I understand this move, the campaign is just so crass.

Is it just denial? Is she so out of touch she feels that a flash of the norks is a way back into the ears of Australia? Is it just another piece of couch-jumping-maniacally-optimistic craziness? Hey, yeah – bugger integrity, let’s just plumb the depths of desperation and do a dodgy lingerie campaign: sex sells records, Kate, and fuck knows you’ve never had anything to offer as an artist, this may be the career defibrillation you need – get ’em out!!! Kate Ceberano gives me roaring-vindaloo shits and I wish she would just put them away and fuck the fucking-fuck off!

Door-to-door Euthanasia – The Business Of The Future!

Posted in Crap Jobs with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 15, 2008 by Buck Frain

I had a great idea for a direct marketing business today. It just came to me. Door-to-door Euthanasia. Genius! Think about it:- The planet’s chronically overpopulated, we’re consuming natural resources at a thoroughly unsustainable rate and we’re polluting our environment to an extent that the planet will be uninhabitable by humans within 100 years. The human race is done. Most people are already killing themselves, in a slow, cowardly consumerist way at least: cigarettes, alcohol, junk food, drugs, mobile phones, driving whilst doing any or all of the former. Most of these people recognise the subtly suicidal undertones to these behaviours. Most of these people also wouldn’t be able to give you any decent justification for their continuing existence on the planet. It’s a pretty easy sell.

Huddled into their dingy homes crammed with unused exercise machines and sporting memorabilia, glued to commercial TV banality, stuffing their obese bodies with fatty home delivered death, all the while decaying intellectually and spiritually, and refusing to participate in the affluent democracy that spawned them. All they want is someone to show them a product they can buy, that doesn’t require any effort on their part other than an outlay of cash, and that will solve all their problems – forever.

It’s just an idea at this stage and I realise I’d have to dress it up with some quasi-spiritual promise of wealth, stardom and beauty in some sort of afterlife. Not to mention a serious money-back guarantee, but I’m on to something, that’s for sure.

Oh fuck, I’ve turned into Satan! I gotta start looking for another line of work, I don’t think I’m very well.

Idiots Enslaved By Technology.

Posted in Tales From Hell with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 13, 2008 by Buck Frain

The life of a market research interviewer is tedious at best. Sitting in a booth phoning people and boring them to death with mundane questions about crap they don’t care about. I’m serious, where the fuck do you find people aged 18-34 who don’t use libraries but do want to spend 15 minutes answering questions about why they don’t use them? Genius! Aren’t you glad you pay tax?

I freely acknowledge that my job is stupid, pointless and on occasions invasive but I’m constantly amazed by the psychotic levels of rage it incites in seemingly ordinary people, and for that matter how stupid most people are. I mean, I don’t sell anything, I’m not asking for money, all I want is time. If you don’t have any or if you’re not interested, no worries. Thanks for your time, see ya – I move on. But, no,  people lose their shit. It seems to me that there are a massive number of people who are so disempowered and shat-upon in their regular lives that they need to cut loose at someone, anyone,  and the lowly, anonymous market research interviewer is a perfect target. Most of them are pretty unimaginative:

Fuck off, ya fuckin’ cunt!

That’s cool. Occasionally, I get mildly more imaginative attempts.

You shouldn’t be phoning me, I’m on the witness protection programme.

Yeah, and you tell people that? Smart. But then there are the people who think we’re deliberately targeting them ‘cause they’re oh so important!

Why do you call at dinner time, everyone’s having their dinner, don’t you people know that?

Oh yeah, that’s right, this is the legally designated, universal, unvarying time when the evening meal is consumed, it can’t ever happen at another time and we’re calling you so yours gets cold. Are you stupid? Fuck off and die!

Dontcha know I’m watchin’ the fuckin’ footy?

Of course I do, I can see you on the camera we put in your lounge room, I’m just ringing to fuck with your puny mind! Would you like to buy some DVDs of you shagging your dog?

Then there’s people who go crazy that they have a silent number and I’ve rung them on it, and they don’t even know me. Angry as piss because they pay for something that doesn’t prevent anyone calling them. I’m polite to these people but Jesus they’re ridiculous because, despite their protestations, they don’t actually want to end the call. They want to crap on and on and make me feel guilty for intruding into their lives – never gonna happen! I’d be happy to leave them in peace but they won’t let me, they want to lecture me on being an evil fucker for wasting their lives. Shit, I’m not wasting it, fuckface, it’s a phone – HANG THE FUCKER UP!!!

For fuck’s sake, do you have to answer your phone? If you don’t want to speak to people, don’t, I don’t make you. Just don’t pick it up. Stop being a slave to your technology! Get the fuck over it! And while we’re at it, if you’re angry at your life don’t expect me to give a fat rat’s clacker – hell, I’ve got my own shit to deal with. Pathetic Pavlovian shit-brains – I have absolutely no cunting sympathy! Don’t answer your phone if you don’t wanna talk to people! Don’t respond to the bell like a dog to a whistle! Remember – YOU HAVE FREE WILL. Well, some of us do.

This is the saddest thing. So many people have become completely enslaved by their means of communication. I’ve called people who have answered the phone while fucking. They don’t usually tell me but it’s pretty obvious what’s going on. Then they have the nerve to get mad at me about it. Hey, I’m not the fucktard who answers his phone mid-root. Damn, isn’t that what voicemail’s for? Ooh, but what if it’s important? If it’s important they’ll ring back. People are stupid. The human race is doomed!

How To Get 1 Million Hits On Your Blog!

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 28, 2008 by Buck Frain

The World Is Yours.

Getting one million hits on anything on the internet is fucking easy and if you can’t do it you’re fucking idiot and you should consider having yourself euthanased. Just ask me, I’ve never done it! On the upside I’m not asking you for any money and you’re already here so you might as well hear me out. 

The internet, just like the real world, is full mostly of complete cretins. Brainless fucksticks with about as much imagination as your average carrot. It’s at this point, I’d usually cut sick at the stupidity of humankind for another paragraph or so, but for what we’re doing today human stupidity is a good thing, and you want your million hits so I’ll try to stay on track. 

The way to get hits is to have text in your site that people search for using search engines. The more people search for specific phrases that appear in your site, the more hits you get. Now, you could subscribe to numerous sites or download all sorts of fancy applications that measure search engine traffic in order to find what’s hot right now and help you choose a niche that you can exploit for whatever it is that rubs your rhubarb. Rather than list any of those applications here, I’ll just say: Don’t fuckin’ waste your money! The internet is simple and people are shit. People are online for three main reasons and these never change:

  • Porn
  • Cash
  • Salvation

Dating is also pretty big, but pointless for us, and then way down the list there’s also people doing genuine research or looking for actual information. These people are pretty useless for our purposes because they’re smart and interested in too wide a variety of subject matters, also, we’re really here to get hits, yeah? Fuckin’ yeah! So let’s stick with the three. 

For porn sites you need text like: 

Free XXX, big tits, hardcore fucking, free teen cum sluts, amateur porn pics, lesbian college party, fat hairy bitches, massive cock gallery, tit-fuck, donkey-punch creampie, dirty rim-job, fisting the dentist, gobbing the teacher, anal probe alien, fuck-monkey latinas, asian ping pong pussy, pissing on cops.

Of course if you ad some pictures or videos, some people might come back especially if they’re porn pictures and videos. 

For Cash sites you need text like: 

Free home business, make cash from home, free start-up, make a fortune online, $100,000 per month guaranteed, best online business, retire in one year, lucrative investment opportunity, be your own boss, be a millionaire, earn millions, chance of a lifetime, fully-automated business, no work – huge rewards, have a shit on your boss.

Again the text is all you really need to get the hits but if you want to branch out into actually turning those hits into money, you’ll need to offer some sort of publication and charge for it. The idea isn’t to provide anyone with anything that earns them money, it’s about stringing them along with a sniff of earning potential, getting them to sign up for a zine that has all the answers for a nominal fee like $50 that you’ll refund if it doesn’t work in three months. The zine has to offer vague hints, links and pointers to things they have to buy and lots of encouragement because people who go for this shit are desperate and fragile and need lots of reassurance. This also stops them from giving up and asking for a refund for the first 3 months. You can send them emails containing new links to bullshit products every few days to keep tham thinking they’re getting business coaching. You don’t have to worry about whether it works or not, most people will realise they can’t be bothered trying your ideas so they’ll give up. Yay, free cash for you! Those who do try it may have some degree success which means you win again, and those who try it, fuck it up and want refunds – well, fuck them! 

The salvation sites need text like: 

Fuck this shit, who can be bothered? I mean, you get the idea, don’t you? Blah blah blah. Really, why even bother with the salvation sites, porn and cash are what most people want so stick to that. I just put salvation in because three options look better than two, so find your own fuckin’ words, you lazy cunt! I mean, maybe I’d give you salvation if I was getting something out of it but I’m not and I’m in a pretty bad mood anyway so you should just be happy I’ve been as generous as I have. 

So that’s it! That’s your lesson on how to get 1 million hits on your blog or whatever the fuck else you feel like putting up on the internet. Getting hits is all about bullshit, cheap tricks and usually involves annoying the piss out of everyone you know until they hate you. So in that spirit I’ll ask a favour. No, there’s no such thing as a free lunch, are you really that naïve? I’ll ask that you copy the address of this page and send it in an email to everyone you know, paste a link to it into your Facebook, Myspace or any other webpage you have access to, and tell them all this is the most important thing they’ll read this year and even though you don’t normally pass these sorts of things on, you felt compelled to share this gem with them. Why? Because I want a million hits too, I too am a big sold-out bitch who yearns for the adulation of complete strangers, so do the right thing and don’t let the Buck stop here, pass it on! 

Thanks!

 

Damn! You fuckers will read anything!

 

Having A Big Shit In The Nest

Posted in Tales From Hell with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 17, 2008 by Buck Frain

Seeing as I’ve begun to bite the hand that feeds me, I might as well do the job properly and gnaw the fucker right off.

I work for Corgan Research, one of the country’s oldest MR firms. It sucks and is run by a complete maniac called Barry Corgan – big C, little organ, or so we suspect. Barry inherited the company from the founder, his father, so he’s always been rich and has never had to relate to people. He dresses like Gregory Peck in The Boys From Brazil, only shorter and without the moustache or charisma and a Barry’s a bit more of a nazi. The only way he ever communicates with anyone is by shouting at them. Thank fuck he hardly ever condescends to visit us. The odd occasions he does is usually to gloat about his empire to boozed up potential clients.


As head of the company he has established a culture of fear, pettiness and disaffected slovenliness. Thanks to a careful maneuvering around, or in some cases a complete flouting of, industrial relations and tax laws everyone in the entire building is paid well below any industry minimums. This results in everyone only doing the bare minimum they can get away with without getting fired and ripping the system for anything they can whenever opportunity arises. Barry treats every employee as if they are a thief and this sort of punitive management style filters down through the whole organisation. He routinely fires people on the spot so everyone fears and despises him, hates their job, and is suspicious of their co-workers. Interviewers are the lowest of the low, everyone has more power than us and despite the fact that none of them would have jobs if we weren’t here, I understand that most consider us some sort of subhuman troglodytes. Unfortunately, they’re occasionally correct. It’s a truly demoralising work environment.

The two main surveys we do are one for a big tobacco company on smoking habits. Our conspiracy theory has me certain the information they get from this is filed away for future legal cases to prove the vast majority of smokers smoke more than one brand of cigarettes so, when you try to sue them because of your lungs are rotting and your cock’s fallen off, they can say How do you know it was OUR cigarettes that caused your cancer? Pretty evil, huh? 

The other is for The Cuntingwealthy Bank, interviewing their customers about their level of satisfaction with the service they receive. This is gold because we have to rewrite customers’ actual responses into less offensive, more company-positive messages that are then passed on to the branches to contribute to employee KPIs and are posted on the internal website so the shareholders can see what a great company they own. Also a wee bit evil, no? It goes against everything market research is supposed to represent. If there was ever integrity in the simple gathering of information to find truths it has been corrupted by Barry and his corporate shit-sucking mates. It makes me wonder why we bother calling people at all for this project – we could just make the shit up, that is what we’re doing most of the time anyway.

The problem at its root is that the business of market research is a fiction. Our company produces nothing. Numbers on a page that are the result of meticulously engineered questionnaires tailored to produce the exact outcomes desired by the client. The manner in which the work is carried out is completely irrelevant. You could pay people top dollar for the best work or, like Barry does, pay the bare minimum to keep yourself out of jail and say bollocks to quality. The end results are indistinguishable from one another, so unless you have any interest in people as anything other than earning potential, it makes sense to create a shithole like Corgan’s.

This does not, however, change the fact that Barry Corgan is an evil dog-felching bastard and his empire is thoroughly contemptible. I believe, if you employ people, you have a duty to provide them with an environment where, even if their job is meaningless, they feel as though they are respected, they’re paid properly and treated with basic human dignity. Barry Corgan is a rotten-to-the-core-son-of-a-whore and I would happily beat the fucker to a stinking bloody pulp and then do a shit in his hat. Fuck you Barry!!!

My Confession – The Horrible Truth.

Posted in Tales From Hell with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 15, 2008 by Buck Frain

I work in a market research call centre. My job is to call people like you on the telephone and ask you all manner of pointless questions, while you try to prepare dinner or bathe your children, about products and services you don’t care about in order that faceless corporations can work out how better to get you to hand over your cash to them. So now you know the horrible truth. And you wondered why I was so angry?

Market research is where artistic mediocrities come to die. Dispirited by the corporatisation of the arts and the hopeless lack of funding for, or public interest in, anything that can’t be manipulated to sell burgers, we enter the career cul-de-sac of MR with the illusion of keeping our options open but secretly knowing that we’ll be here until we either die or our jobs get outsourced to a company in Bangalore.

I get out of the lift and clock into hell by pressing my thumbprint onto the scanner plate. Yes, they hate and distrust us that much. I sit at a booth with a neolithic computer, a dialer and a headset. Either side of me sit clones of me, broken artists, impoverished students, gambling addicts, the socially, aesthetically, or mentally challenged, society’s talking wounded. For four to eight hours at a stretch I sit while the auto-dialer dials for me, I say the words that appear in front of my face and key in the responses as given by the respondent. Creativity and initiative are dismissible offences. My job is to be a phone monkey. Say the fuckin’ words!

Of course, I could get another job. But could I get one that pays this well with so little work involved? Probably not. And there’s the rub. It’s Boiling Frog Syndrome – getting paid for sitting talking to people, drinking tea whilst gradually having one’s creativity, imagination, one’s very soul eroded through the dull repetition of mindless research-speak.

If your bank was a person would you be its friend?

Do agree or disagree that your current mobile phone defines your masculinity?

How relevant or irrelevant do you feel your current career makes you to reality? Would you say very relevant, relevant, neither relevant nor irrelevant, irrelevant or completely irrelevant?

Neither relevant nor irrelevant – nice grey area! Is it possible for anything to ever be neither relevant nor irrelevant?

The sad thing this job has really done to me is it’s given me an accurate picture of the society in which I live. I used to think most people in Australia were intelligent and open-minded, slightly left-thinking and generally good-natured. I was wrong, that was just the people I came into contact with. The Howard government’s longevity should have been a dead giveaway. I know now that most Australians are apthetic, sexist, racist, paranoid, hostile, right-wing, sport-obsessed, binge-drinking imbeciles who can’t even spell their own suburb of residence.

How did you get my number?

Well, sir, for this particular project we use random digit dialing…

Don’t bullshit me, I’ve got a silent number…

I understand that sir, what a lot of people don’t realise when they pay for their “silent” number is that all they pay for is for it not to be listed in the white pages or passed on by directory assistance. We have a computer program that generates numbers at random…

That’s impossible, it’s SILENT!!! How can you ring it?

Do you have children?

No!

Do you have friends with children?

Why?

Imagine your friend’s child at two years old…

She’s four!

…at four years old, takes the phone and just dials a jumble of numbers. If those numbers just happened to be your phone number, your phone would ring, wouldn’t it?

Yeah…

Our program is like that child – numbers at random…

Youse are fucked! I’m gonna sue you! You’ll be going to jail, mate and then you won’t be so fuckin’ smart, will ya?

I assure you we’re not doing anything illegal, if you don’t want to participate, all you have to do is decline.

Ya fuckin’ what?

Would you like to speak to my supervisor?

I get a few of these a night. I almost look forward to the stupidity – it breaks the monotony, and dealing with idiots is the only time we’re allowed any creative latitude, all within the bounds of professional civility, of course. A co-worker was sings …I hate people, I wanna kill ’em… Oh, how I empathise.

If you live in Australia, USA or UK there’s a very real possiblity that I may have rung you in the last couple of years. I may have actually annoyed you or someone in your household personally. If I have, I humbly apologise. If not, stay close to the phone because tonight could be your lucky night.