The Diary of a PA to a British Creative Director.

I posted a brief item on this UK blog in the middle of a Link Haze a couple of weeks ago. It is a daily diary by a disgruntled assistant about a useless, drunken creative director. Much of it is imagined fiction, but it seems to be based on an actual man the PA calls ADam. Here's some sample passages from the last month:
—The planner just sits and rubs his head like a monkey who has fallen off his tyre swing because he thought he could pick his nose and his hairy arse at the same time.
—Arriving late as usual, Adam enters the creative department gasping for air like a puppy dog drowning in a canal. The lift is out. He passes the morning betting his salary on the horses and forwarding a YouTube ad that was sent around a week ago by the rest of the creative community.
—His PowerBook precariously perched on his nimble spotted legs, ignoring his ringing phone, he watches his bookmarked German ‘chik mit diks’ media file, whilst he unloads two nutsfull of lukewarm plebspunk into his shaking skeletal fingers. However, this moment is short-lived as his prick bliss is interrupted to the sound of his mother’s voice on the answer machine talking about her varicose vein removal op.
—…a package arrives from Honk Kong to which he opens to reveal the most hideous shirt known to man, woman and beast. If you stuck a drinking straw up a frogs anal passage and then inflated until it was a spherical amphibious balloon, then threw it against a nearby garden wall, the remains would resemble this pattern. Plus, not accounting for the obvious size difference between the Far East and Europe, Adam walks around looking like he’s wearing a wetsuit covered in fish guts.
(image via)
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The Assimilated Negro.