Completely unnoteworthy was the companyās failure to apologise for its purpose.
I think it was deliberate. Made the headlines.
But was it a hardcore hip-hop octopus?
I meant the companyās general, inherent purpose, not the squidās.
It was an, āIām half awake and making vague connections,ā comment. Sorry!
Donāt apologise to me; apologise to the many victims of the gambling company : p
Thatās one industry I will never, ever work for.
About a year ago I was hanging out with a fellow Bike Shed volunteer; it was about 10 or 11 on a Friday or Saturday night and weāre at the train station.
Our train rocks up, and some scumbag has dropped a bunch of dough on turning the train blue all over with ads for a gambling smartphone appā¦ we go in the train and itās blue everywhere inside, all over the windows and on each end of the carriage. The train is fairly full in terms of seats, but nobodyās standing to block the view.
At the end of the carriage is this dickhead with his āyou know it makes senseā catchphrase. Iām sitting there fuming, coming to the boilā¦ and my mate is a young bloke of the BMX-riding, permanent-marker-wielding persuasion, so I hit him up for a texta.
So right there in front of everyone, I take my time to write āTO BE A MUGā in matching block letters under āYOU KNOW IT MAKES SENSEā on the vinyl ad, bold as brass. I didnāt give a flying fuck, particularly with a couple of beers in me. Not that Iām of the texta-wielding persuasion myself; I take a dim view of vandalism.
But naturally, defacing and subverting ads is another matter entirely; nobody ever asks permission to shove propaganda in my face. But one doofus in the audience couldnāt make the distinction; he wanted to physically assault me for damaging public propertyā¦ I left aside the point that the public certainly didnāt own the bit of vinyl stuck to the train that Iād defaced, and instead focused on the point that the trains had been privatised a decade ago. The authoritarian dipshit kinda failed to grasp the significance of that, thoughā¦
Still, there wouldāve been a couple of handfuls of folks who found the exchange entertaining, if not edifying.
As for the fuckwit, what are the odds he was a gambler, eh?
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