Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Fake Doug's Identity Revealed!

I can't leave you people alone for 5 minutes can I? Seriously, can’t a guy take a little break to reset his chakra without you people getting all bent about it? Man. Get lives people. And as for those miserable bleating sheep that work here, well, looks like some more "unlimited vacations" are in order.

As you may have noticed, we've had lots of employees taking unlimited vacations lately. So much so that we even had to change offices. It was getting to be like a mausoleum up in this place. For those who will never claw your grubby little talons to the level of importance of Fake Doug, let me tell you… the process of moving a company, even a game-changing one like ours, is a real bitch.

Do you know how hard it is to outfit a commercial building with military grade surveillance equipment? What a pain in the ass. But like I always say in public, nothing but the best for my team. Motion detectors, those full body scanners like they have at the airports. Oh, and the cameras in the bathrooms were my idea too. You're welcome, Ian! I even have a scanner to tell me when someone is thinking negative thoughts.

So what happens when someone dares to think anything but the best about Fake Doug you ask? I send them for some counseling time with the Department of Reconciliation of course. That’s what we’re calling HR now. I got the idea about renaming it from the "unlimited vacations" guy. Fucking brilliant. I tried to send him an organic fruit basket to say thank you, but I was told he was taking some time off.

So that got me thinking... Fake Doug isn't just trying to merely win business. No, no. Thinking small like that is for morons like you. No, we're trying to win in the relationship era.  And winning in the relationship era means me having more relationships than you. Or is it by destroying your relationships? I get confused. Regardless. By my calculations, low score wins!

To be the best relationship-sustainable-green-authentic-bieber-loving-paradigm-defining-purpose-driven-insights-leading-can-someone-from-marketing-fill-in-all-the-other-buzz-words-we-typically-use-please-I’m-getting-tired-of-typing-agency, we launched a spunky new brand. I’m sure you’ve seen it, as it's creating quite a stir. I originally had real problems with it, because everyone knows Americans are terrible at math. What am I, Asian? Where does one get helicopter parents anyway?

But I digress. When Cassius Clay changed his name it was because of his devout belief in the religion of Islam.  So too, we are changing our name because of our beliefs. But why stop there? If Ali could bow down and worship his god, so to can we. And by we, I mean all of you. So following Ali’s example, I’ve asked the Department of Reconciliation to convert all of the Zen rooms into Devotion Centers. From now on, you’ll be required to bow down and thank Fake Doug for providing you such a spiritually fulfilling work experience at least 3 times a day.  For those of you who have spent your careers on your knees, this will be right up your alley. For everyone else, don’t worry. The scar tissue builds up after a while. Just keep praying repeatedly, “Fake Doug values me. Fake Doug values me. Fake Doug values me.” Since I will be monitoring your devotion time from my new state-of-the-art surveillance center, who knows, your devotion might just be rewarded with a chance to kiss my rings. Think of it as a high five for your soul.

Being the transformative figure that I am, I need a new name, too. And not just any name, but one that truly typifies the visionary and industry game-changer that I am. After all, you don’t get to be Fake Doug by merely thinking outside the box. You get there by missing the box entirely!

Wouldn’t you know it though? Coming up with a transformative name is hard. But if anyone can supply the genius required it’s me. So I went to the sauna to meditate. That’s when it hit me.  Mere words can’t describe a god-like presence like mine, that's for the little folk. No, Fake Doug needs something that transcends the limitations ordinary people have to deal with like logic and reason. Fake Doug needs something symbolic. Something emotive. So from now on, the artist formerly known as Fake Doug will henceforth be referred to as “÷”

Former Fake Doug, I told myself, genius as usual.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

December 26th is Boxing Day!

Hi all! Long time no read. It's Wednesday and boy am IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII drunk. I must apologize to all of you all, my loyal readers, but things have been positively dreadful here lately and I just couldn't bring myself to write.

I mean, let's face it. Between you and me we all know that things haven't been going that well, but fear not, I have hope. Hope that tomorrow will be a better day, at least for me anyway. For all of you? Probably not so much.

When you're an industry giant like myself, people look for you to succeed. Nay, they expect it, and all that pressure can really take a toll. Hence the drinking. Lots and lots and lots of drinking. Vodka mostly, but I must admit I sneak the occasional bottle of vanilla. Glenna says it makes my breath smell like cookies.

So you may be asking yourself, Hey Fake Doug, why so stressed? You're a titan of advertising, an innovator of the industry and a charmingly handsome devil. I mean, it says so right here in your press release.

I know, I know, I know, I know. But desperate times call for desperate measures. And boy, am I desperate. I've had to reevaluate a lot of things and consider any opportunity to maximize short term profits to secure the long term health of my vision. To put it another way, I'm willing to sell anything that isn't nailed down at this point. It's already started. Media, search, an Aeron chair here or there. You want a couple of hours with Christina Cave? Hey, make me an offer. Crazy Fake Doug will not be undersold.

Rand says I need to keep towing the line about partnering with other agencies and collaborating on blah blah blah. Fuck that. I basically just need all you meat puppets to stay long enough for me to bill out as much as possible before I sell you all off to the highest bidder. And don't get all Kunta Kinte on me. If you had somewhere else to go, you'd be there by now.

So I got thinking. This year I should do something nice. Something that says I haven't lost touch with the little guy. Something quintessentially Fake Doug. This year, I'm sending you all a gift. I'm pretty sure it'll arrive just after the holidays. Curious? Ok, ok, I'll give you a hint.

It's little. It's pink. And it says "You're _ired."

And, just in case you're wondering, I sold all of my H's.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

IMC2, now 20% more efficient!

By now, you all probably know that I'm a nut for creating eco-friendly, transformative and sustainable marketing solutions that will completely revolutionize the industry. I've hired some of the best and brightest minds to help me figure out how to transform imc2 into the worlds first carbon neutral ad agency. We've reduced paper use, eliminated anything that needs to be washed and instituted company wide flush rules in the bathrooms. (Remember people, if it's yellow let it mellow...)

But we still have a ways to go. It occurred to me during my zen time this morning that our biggest producer of carbon dioxide is our own damn employees. And my goodness if most of them aren't full of hot air. So today I've decided to announce our revolutionary plan to lower carbon emissions. We're releasing some of our employees back into the wild, where they can work and flourish on someone else's dime. Hell, half of these gas bags didn't even want to be here in the first place.

But Fake Doug, you say, those sound like layoffs. No, no, no. Layoffs are what other companies do. We're innovators. We lead the pack. That's why we didn't lay these employees off, we recycled them, giving them back to the marketplace where another company can milk value out of whatever hollow shell is left of their former selves.

Think about it. Just like an innovative, well designed and colorful package gets remade into a coffee tray for Starbucks, so too will my recycled receptacles go on to get coffee for their new leaders in their new organizations.

Of course, I also had to recycle all the people I hired to help me make this transformation in the first place. But, you know what they say. Buy a man a fish and you'll feed him for a day, but teach a man to fish and you'll feed him for a lifetime.

Just be prepared for him to kill you and take your pole.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The First Rule of Fight Club

Whew, have I been busy. I'd apologize for the lack of postings lately, but you should all just be happy to bask in my brilliance whenever you can. But, for the record, it's hard being the unique innovator and change agent transforming both the world of marketing and the landscape of satirical blogging. I mean, this shit doesn't exactly write itself. Ok most of the time it does, but you get the idea.

You may have noticed I've been spending large amounts of time in the zen rooms lately, but I've really needed to focus. When you have a company like mine that runs like a swiss watch, it's important to take time and try to really figure out what the next set of challenges may be, and then proactively try to solve them. Oh hell, who am I kidding, I just can't stand to be around this place any more. It's so damn depressing. I hear you all grumbling, complaining, staring at me with your dagger like eyes. What could you possibly be miserable about? Where else are you going to be able to spend all your waking hours working in a zero accountability environment where even the most incompetent loser has a chance of rising to the top? Maybe it's time I stopped feeding the hand that bites me.

So that got me thinking, it's high time you all learned who's boss around here. Enough with the blog posts, the snarky IM's, the mocking forwards to all your friends of my company wide emails. Enough I say. I don't ask much of you, do I? Come to work, quietly do your job, and love me fully, completely and without question. And since it seems you all can't be proactive enough to take the initiative and love me on your own then I'll just have to fucking make you love me.

I called Marc and told him "Dude, we need to get these fuckers in line, grab our lawyers and be in my office in 5 minutes. I have a plan." 30 seconds later Marc comes in, alone. I'll never understand it, but he always does that. I can tell him 5 minutes, 10 minutes, whatever, but the guy always comes in 30 seconds.

"Where are the Lawyers?" I ask. He reminds me that lawyers charge by the second and since we're a tad low on cash at the moment, he'd like to hear the plan first. It's time to get these asshats in line. I want everyone in this company to sign a document pledging their allegiance to me. No more negativity, no more questioning my decisions. Hell, I want to be able to sue their pants off if I don't like how they're looking at each other. Marc felt we probably couldn't afford to have anybody with a law degree write something like that.

Fuck that. I'll write it. He's so small minded sometimes. It doesn't need to be legally binding, we just need to scare them into thinking it is. Besides, based on what I'm paying these clowns they wouldn't be able to afford a real lawyer anyway. And, it has the added benefit of creating new revenue streams for the business, and we need to try and make money somehow. It's perfect. But then again I'm not surprised. It's yet another example of my genius.

Fake Doug Levy. Putting the fee back in confidentiality.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Today's word

The word of the day is "Blowhole."

There is no spoon

I had one of those giant circular fish tanks put in at the house the other day. You know the kind, floor to ceiling salt water, all kinds of exotic fish. I filled it with various colorful creatures, but my crown jewel is a small Bala Shark I affectionately named Hensley. Although it's the oddest thing. Everyone told me this kind of shark was docile, but each morning I come out and there's another half eaten carcass at the bottom of the tank. I know its her. I can always tell which fish she's angling to eat because she always seems to act nice to it for a while, but then when I'm not looking, chomp chomp. I tap my finger on the glass like 'I know it's you' but she just looks back at me with those cold, lifeless eyes.

Aquarian homicide aside, fish tanks remind me of that movie The Matrix, you know, one completely artificial reality contained within another. I watch it all the time, but, am I the only one who roots for the machines? I mean, they provide a world for the humans to live in, thrive in and have their needs met and all they have to do is just lay there. My wife and I have had this arrangement for years and it's worked out just fine, why do these fucksticks feel the need to get all uppity? To make matters worse, that miscreant Neo hacks into the system and starts breeding all sorts of discontent, encouraging people to leave their jobs, broadcasting messages of how their insignificant lives will be better, blah blah blah. If those fuckers knew how good they had it, they would jam those probes back into their meager little skulls and thank their lucky stars to have such benevolent masters. I would have shut the whole damn system down and started over, but hey, I'm a nose to spite my face kind of guy.

Perhaps there are ways I can bring some automation into my own little matrix. After all, machines do what they're told, right? I did some poking around the net and I think I've at least
found replacements for most of our account staff, I'm guessing many of our clients wouldn't even realize we made the switch, and as an added bonus, they're completely reusable. Now THAT'S what I call sustainable marketing!

Friday, September 19, 2008

See, it's not all bad

With everything going on lately I forgot to share some good news. You probably heard, but if not, I'm proud to announce we made some hires for the NY office. If you didn't get the press release you can read about it here

I know what you're thinking and it's true. It's not that often you see rats swimming towards a sinking ship.