Tag Archives: clown

It sees us…we become snacks!

The scene of the travesty was a run-down, ramshackle gym on the outskirts of town. Little did the slightly overweight, balding man know, but on that day, on that street, cruel fate had no intention of allowing his fitness regime to continue.

The session began as normal, a light run. He got into his stride and quickly zoned out all around him, but then into his peripheral vision came a ghastly apparition with foreboding trailing in its wakes. Beneath the thick cake of foundation and lipstick he suspected that it was female in origin…yes…the presence of hazardously unrestrained breasts confirmed his conjecture. An overly elaborate hairstyle was held in place by an ocean of product, and her form was bedecked head to toe in designer gear.

‘You don’t belong here,’ the other patrons seemed to whisper; bonding in their joint disapproval. ‘Ours is a simple place of exercise. Take your posing ways elsewhere.’

Arrogantly she ignored my / his / their demands, stepped onto a running machine adjacent to the balding man and set off at a vigorous sprint. It quickly became apparent that she was not going to be able to sustain such a pace. Her already rosy cheeks glowed bright red, and within a minute or so thick sweaty black mascara began running into her eyes.

‘This is odd,’ the balding man thought, ‘Surely she will stop, clean herself up and regain her sight?’

No, it appeared as though she was going to brazen it out.

Moments later she had morphed from fashionista into a clown with panda-esque tendencies. A quick swipe and smudge across the face gave her the mask of Zorro which then, with the inclusion of lipstick stained teeth, warped and distended into the voracious snarling sneer of a cold-blooded killer.

Without the industry-standard parachute harness brassiere demanded under such circumstances the clown-thing’s breasts now became weapons. The balding man ducked and dived. Through floor to ceiling mirrors he saw that all eyes were fixed upon the hideous transformation.

Into the mix came a rasping, hocking gargle. Every few strides brought forth a ‘Hoekgrr…Hoekgrr’ sound.

Our hilarity turned to panic. What if she collapses? The paramedics are going to think we did this to her. There’s no other rationale explanation.

By now the balding man was surging at full pelt. In his heightened state of fear he couldn’t understand how the heaving, lolloping, semi-blind monster was managing to keep up with him.

‘HOEKGRRRR!…..HOEKGRRRR!’

When the ordeal finally came to an end it squinted at a pedometer and grimaced in satisfaction. The balding man returned home and discovered that he had lost more weight than usual.

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Corporate monkey…

True story…

I’ve been interviewing recently for a Project Management role. The last question I ask is always ‘what are your hobbies?’ I do this for two reasons i. No one puts them on their CV anymore, and ii. It gives a good insight into what a person is really like.

On one particular occasion the candidate replied with ‘scuba and sky-diving. I’m an adrenaline junkie and love danger and excitement.’

After the interview my colleagues and I agreed that the man in question was a nice, competent guy, and decided to offer him the job. The following morning he declined the role stating that he had been mugged outside the office, and that Southwark was too dangerous a place to work!

A few days later another candidate was asked the question ‘How do you deal with conflict?’ to which he replied ‘I don’t. I avoid it like the plague. I’m a politician. I weave around conflict.’

‘But surely there are times when conflict is unavoidable – for example – when you’re dealing with a poor supplier or a lazy employee?’

‘I disagree’

‘Well there you go. You’re in conflict with me now.’

‘No I’m not.’

‘What are your hobbies?’

‘I’m in a theatre company.’

‘Oh great – What was your last role?’

‘I was a clown.’

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