The dangers of yellow Play-Doh
Cheery but busy today - working on a pitch. Working with Andy again, one of my old art directors. He told me a funny story about Play-Doh. Apparently shortly after a birthday where he had been given lots of Play Doh by his colleagues (for art directors are always fiddling with stuff like that) he was in bed trying to get to sleep - he had a big presentation the next day.
Sadly there was an enormous amount of noise coming from his next door neighbours. The idea of some kind of ear plug came to mind, and he wadded cotton wool up but this didn't work. Then he had the inspired idea of fashioning ear plugs from Play Doh. When he woke up the next morning, he went to pull the plugs out. Unfortunately these simply crumbled a bit and he was left deafened with dry and hard yellow Play Doh wedged in his ears. Ghastly visit to his doctor, who was unable to remove the plugs, but sent him to the hospital with a letter. He had to visit several departments before they were able to extricate the stuff. And everyone who read the doctor's letter sniggered.
To Wimbledon with the Gnome after work. We stopped at a bus stop where a young, smallish and very drunk Irish lad singing and offensively shouting the N-word to the world in general.
Once safely in the land of the Wombles, the Gnome and me had a much needed drink and a chat. As my current art director, me leaving affects him too. He is a lovely man and we had a cheerful time chatting. Then I crossed the road to Wagamamas restaurant for a gossip fest with Marja and Sarah Freems, and scarf some fusiony oriental food.
Caught a tram at Wimbledon which took me to Croydon. There are not many trams in England and it feels a bit of a novelty to be sliding through strange backstreets on one. Then, after buying a cardboardy cup of tea at the East Croydon station, home on the train.
Cheery but busy today - working on a pitch. Working with Andy again, one of my old art directors. He told me a funny story about Play-Doh. Apparently shortly after a birthday where he had been given lots of Play Doh by his colleagues (for art directors are always fiddling with stuff like that) he was in bed trying to get to sleep - he had a big presentation the next day.
Sadly there was an enormous amount of noise coming from his next door neighbours. The idea of some kind of ear plug came to mind, and he wadded cotton wool up but this didn't work. Then he had the inspired idea of fashioning ear plugs from Play Doh. When he woke up the next morning, he went to pull the plugs out. Unfortunately these simply crumbled a bit and he was left deafened with dry and hard yellow Play Doh wedged in his ears. Ghastly visit to his doctor, who was unable to remove the plugs, but sent him to the hospital with a letter. He had to visit several departments before they were able to extricate the stuff. And everyone who read the doctor's letter sniggered.
To Wimbledon with the Gnome after work. We stopped at a bus stop where a young, smallish and very drunk Irish lad singing and offensively shouting the N-word to the world in general.
Once safely in the land of the Wombles, the Gnome and me had a much needed drink and a chat. As my current art director, me leaving affects him too. He is a lovely man and we had a cheerful time chatting. Then I crossed the road to Wagamamas restaurant for a gossip fest with Marja and Sarah Freems, and scarf some fusiony oriental food.
Caught a tram at Wimbledon which took me to Croydon. There are not many trams in England and it feels a bit of a novelty to be sliding through strange backstreets on one. Then, after buying a cardboardy cup of tea at the East Croydon station, home on the train.
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