Friday Simpson's Mania

http://www.simpsonsmovie.com/main.html
This top site lets you create your own Simpson’s avatar. Which basically means there has been very little work done at Karma Plaza this afternoon.
We hope in time to post up the entire agency, but here’s a little taster.
Here’s farmer Rob.

Here’s dark horse Tom.

But who could these dashing and frighteningly lifelike characters be?

Caution indeed.

As though the fact that building is quivering around our desks were not enough to scare the pants off us, our landlords appear to be suggesting that the lifts may fill with boiling water at any second in the manner of one of Bond's less credible near-death experiences.

Living your Brand

Philip has taken his commitment to the History Channel brand too far and developed a mediaeval skin disease.
This is a warning to you ladies out there: if you see a man with these wheals approaching you this weekend, step away from his wandering hands. We understand that the plague is highly contagious.

puudies!

I love these cats... and I promise not to use this kind of grammar when writinz myz adz.

Pitching Time

It was pitching time at Karma Towers today with the lovely people from The Body Shop paying us a visit.
Who can say if we’ll win through or not – it is now in the laps of the temperamental pitch-gods, but one thing’s for sure, the catering was top drawer.


The book of the pitch looked smart and snaz.

And the glamourous team responsible, Gina and Sarah were, well, just plain glamourous that’s what.
Good work all.

It's All Gone a Bit Wiiiiiiii Bonkers

As if by magic your Karma pals have discovered the joy of the Wii. Taking centre-stage in our reception, work has never been so much fun.


Well, if anyone could be bothered to do any work that is. Here's some of the better-looking Karma boys getting to grips with Tiger Woods and his funny slice. Lil'Tom is without doubt the 'straight-down-the-middle champ.

Although Azzer has the better all-round drop-panted style. Rumours abound that a couple of eagles were scored. I'm not sure if this is a reference to dodgey nocturnal activities, but it all seems in the best possible taste.
Rock-on Nintendo, we loves ya.

Glastonbury

Summary:
Jees it really was a wet one. The wettest day in June EVER recorded and people trying to take tents down. Shin deep in mud. The newspapers full of 'mud people'. Mud, mud, mud ...


Love it: The Park, brilliant new part of the site ran by Emily Eavis. Seeing bands get off tourbus in posh clothes being handed wellies. Handing out armfuls of straw for people to sit on medeival style. People using Pete Fowler sculpture to scrape the mud off their boots. Meeting Chas & Dave, they rock. Surprise/secret gigs (for 'Africa Express' everyone turned up: The Specials, Magic Numbers, Billy Bragg, Damon Albarn, Fatboy Slim, Don Letts, The Aliens, Keith Allen and daughter? to play with African bands like Tinariwen and Amadou & Mariam). Drunken Morris dancing with some female MCs next to Billy Bragg and Damon Albarn, brilliant laughs.


Love it less: Getting around site impossible. Bars running out of cider by Saturday. Mud people trying to take people down with them. Silent Disco - queue for half an hour, then they're playing trance through the headphones. BBC coverage of the festival was lazy this year, real lack of effort and variety in what they covered. Car parks - 6 hours to get out of a field, yikes.


KarmaFest Rating: 9/10 (despite the mud, what an weekend)

A Glastonbury report

This Friday the majority of the agency absconded to lose an important part of their brain somewhere in a field in Somerset, or drink fine wines in Tuscany or (most selfishly) attend the birth of their child in West London. Unfortunately a few people were in fact left behind to hold the fort, poor things. It seems a bit much to rub their noses in it with photo reportage of our fun. Still, you know, sod em.

Good things about Glastonbury
1) Hats
In many ways, Glastonbury is Ladies Day for hippies. Hats range from the functional (Army helmet, plastic visor over a straw stetson) to the peculiar (fungus themed). All of which was good news for our resident Hat Expert, Hattie who sported a range of excellent headwear over the course of the weekend:


2) Bands
For example, Iggy Pop and the Stooges
Actually in my opinion, even if Iggy Pop was the only thing on all weekend it would still be worth the money and the potential dysentery.
(although I imagine his security were less than enamoured with him after he instigated a thousand strong stage invasion of wrecked festivalgoers including a man protesting for the re introduction of the Cadbury's Wispa Bar, halfway through his set. Or at least wondering why he couldn't have done it for the final song rather than right in the middle.)



3) Trench Spirit:
The good thing about lots of people all taking MDMA at the same time is that there are lots of nice people helping each other out of the puddles. Also, the nature of the festival is democratic: even if you bought your ticket with a gold leaved chequebook and have paid several thousand pounds for someone to helicopter you in to a special waterproof teepee, if you want to watch a band you will need to share the trenches with the rest of us:


4) Dressing Up in General
People start the festival in silly clothes then just add whatever they've got that's dry or strange as they become more wet and or wrecked. By the end of it you are sitting in a hay bale (very cosy by the way, just the ticket in a wet field which is, I imagine, why it was such a Hit in ye oldene tymes) dressed in a silver space blanket, ski socks, wellies and 3D glasses watching a mediaeval funk outfit sing about wizards with not a care in the world except for the next odyssey to the dark side of the toilet cublicles. (The next three pictures show my progression across 3 days of silliness. NB: I've skipped the one where my stupid mimicking of the Kate Moss little-dress-and-bare-legs look led to my poor old legs being coated in 3 inch thick mud and scratches. Never ever listen to Heat magazine, ladies, keep those legs covered right up)


Bad Things about Glastonbury

The worst thing isn't the toilets, the potential to lose your tent in a monsoon nor the constant tramping knee deep through very clay-ey mud all day long whilst frantically texting your mates only to find out they have moved to the exact opposite side of the 5 mile long field....

All of these things can be endured, cheerily, if there's enough pear cider on hand.
The worst thing about Glastonbury are the aggressive eco-warrior hippies telling you off all the frickin time. By Sunday when my sense of humour suffered a massive mud induced rupture, I really didn't need to be lectured on the ecological impact of tampons, ("hey, sister, why use bleached cotton when there are brown rubber egg cups out there?") nor did I need a mime artist telling me to breed less, whilst several home-schooled tiny little Moonfruits and Jasmins splashed about my knees trying to sell me a poorly welded windchime one of their five Mummies had made. Yes, I know this is their festival really but I'm a mardy old media whore and Ive just paid them 17 pounds for some organic cous cous so they can bugger off, the lot of em. (Ive calmed down now)

Still, once you've shown the Sunshine Supermen your heels, its all lovely again. And there's nothing like living the lifestyle of a 12th century vagrant to make you enjoy the finer things in life, like for example sleeping in the back of a van on your way to a centrally heated toilet facility and a really really really hot bath. And, of course, returning to ones Karmarama workstation of course. Hurrah!

Rot Blog 3: Vandalism!

Dear Blog Reader, it is with great sadness that I have to report that an act of wanton vandalism has taken place at Karma Towers. We haven't seen anything like this since the donkey doping incident of '05. A disgruntled employee has taken it upon themselves to press for an immediate digestive biscuit eviction.

Well, don't despair, it takes more than a bit of ink and an abusive statement to bring down the great carb rich biccie.
Meanwhile, oddly silent and a little suspicious looking, the satsuma just sort of sits there. Slowly rotting, but somehow looking a bit smug with itself.

Tune in next week to see if there are any reprisals to this terrible deed.

Psssst! Fancy Watching Some Nice Ads?

Now then. Every month the kind people at Karma Industries pull together a little review of ads that are currently floating their boat. Scouring the four corners of the known Earth, including Australia (pause for effect), the kreadividy newsletter is everything you could ever possibly want. And a little bit more.

As if this wasn't enough, you get to hear first hand the searing critique of adland's most ferocious critic, Ricardo. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Find it here and sign up for a regular dose of ad mumbo jumbo.
http://www.kreadividy.com

Welcome to Hell 3: Oh My Gawd!

So, sometime over the weekend, the metal beasts built the Daddy of all beasts. You probably can’t tell exactly how high it is, but put it this way, if a really angry giant gorilla was hanging off the top of it the scale would be about right.
Quite what this crane’s purpose will be is difficult to figure out. But it seems to be so big it’s offending the big man upstairs. As you can see, the higher it gets, the worse the weather gets. The boys in the office have talked of staging a dirty protest or maybe chucking some oranges at it. We’re thinking of sending Monty, our nimble runner and all round commando, to scale its terrifying heights and leave a stinky calling card from the Karma Crew. Watch this space for more.