Avatar Big Frank’s Global Domination – Computers

It seems as though Big Frank has entered a bit of an identity crisis as we smoothly slide into the month of May (the month of May). Not only has he relocated abroad to Denmark but he’s also started to refer to himself as Big Little Frank, which completely changes the dynamic of EVERYTHING.

It is a rule that once you attach the ‘Big’ moniker to your name, once you have reached a certain age, there is no going back. No variation will be allowed and, in some cases, the ‘Big’ has been stripped from those who have tried to circumvent this tradition that has been carried on for centuries. Needless to say, the ‘Council of Big’ will be contacting Big Frank shortly to discuss all of this.

In the meantime let us look upon his new business adventure regardless.

Big Little Frank are based in Copenhagen and build powerful Mac Pro 5.1 systems for professionals within film and video-editing, colour grading, photography, 3D and motion graphics, architecture, music production, graphic design, software development and more.

They design a different Mac Pro for every single customer, based on an analysis of their specific workflow, the programs they use, and tailored on their needs. That, I think, is very nice.

Their undying admiration and affection for “the best Mac that Apple ever built”, the Mac Pro 5.1, knows no bounds and they use the very best, modern and powerful components available, for a performance unseen before in the Mac ecosystem. And the results are incredible.

There is a lot going on there, far too much for some like me to consider. Luckily though I feel that the month of May (the month of May) will allow me enough time to suck in all of this information and spew it out at the right moment. I feel like I should also point out that this month it is the month of Month, the monthiest month that ever was due to TWO Bank Holidays (and one world cup) that we can all enjoy. Please feel free to enjoy the month of Month whichever way you see fit.

Avatar New: Pouring Beans Fragrances

Look at you. You smell. It’s true – I can smell you from here. What you need is a powerful cosmetic fragrance that will mask your horrendous body odour and the presence of three-day-old kedgeree stuck in your teeth.

Luckily, Pouring Beans has just launched its new line of unisex fragrances. To celebrate launch day, you can get 10% of any of our new toiletries when you order online using the offer code “I REEK”.

Beans No. 5

The warm, homely aroma of uncooked baked beans straight from the tin is unmistakeable in Beans No. 5, with a musky hint of black pepper and overtones of jasmine. It’s the ideal date night fragrance to impress a loved one, a loved-one-to-be or a high-class escort. This stylish eau de toilette is presented in an etched glass bottle in the shape of an open tin of beans. £79.99 (50ml).

Eau de Pouring Body Mist

Make Eau de Pouring Body Mist part of your morning bathroom routine and enjoy its light, fresh scent throughout the day. The dark, sour smell rising from the Character Hatch™ on a hot day is made brighter and sweeter with the musk of wild zorses and the refreshing zing of lemons. £24.99 (150ml) or £49.99 (gift pack: 100ml, presentation box, zorse-striped flannel).

Haricots

Share your bean-based bouquet with your loved one by wearing these delightful matching fragrances for him and for her. Bold, yet playful, both are based on the unmistakable and unforgettable smell of wet plaster and gloss paint from Kev’s house. Haricots Homme carries the bold, earthy overtones of Gary Wilmot’s fading career, whoever he is, while Haricots Femme is lighter, with just a hint of the matted fur lining Flat Kitty’s basket. £39.99 each (75ml) or £54.99 for both.

Our talented Smellologists are now working on a new, secret celebrity fragrance endorsed by Smidge Manly.

Avatar I’m better at someone else’s job than they are

I don’t say things like that lightly. I don’t walk around, smugly declaring myself better at other people’s jobs. Most of the time I trust that if someone has a job they got it because they can do it.

But I make an exception for the people who write adverts for the tube. Most adverts on the tube are in the form of a jokey tube map. In the winter, every other advert is for cold medicine or cough syrup or something similar, and every single one for years and years has been in the form of a tube map-style line diagram with stops labelled “sniffly nose”, “tickly cough” and “aches and pains”. There’s no imagination. If you’re advertising on the tube apparently the only advert any advertising executive can come up with is a tube map.

All these adverts are crap, but I have now definitively found the worst one. It’s for one of those new companies whose whole existence is to make one kind of mattress that they claim is the best mattress in the world and which they only sell online. I don’t know how this is suddenly such an exciting business model but there’s a lot of them doing it. Anyway, here’s their crap, predictable tube advert.

Oh, look! It’s a fake tube line diagram. This one has tube station names on it, altered to make puns on words to do with sleep. I can live with that – in the same way I live with all the other crap adverts like this one, living with it while silently hating and resenting everything about it. What I can’t live with is how bad the puns are.

“Snoredon” is the worst. That’s the one that got me worked up. I’ve lived in London for 11 years, lived in all parts of it, done the Tube Challenge where you go to every station in a single day, and it still took me several minutes to figure out what that was a reference to.

Eventually I got it when I said it out loud. Morden, the southern terminus of the Northern Line. Morden, which ends “en”, not “on”. Morden, which is at the furthest extremity of the one line that goes a significant distance into South London, used in an advert on a transport network that exists almost entirely in North London and will be seen almost exclusively by people who will not be familiar with Morden at all. If you want a pun on “snore” using a tube station name, go for “Moorgate”. A tube station in Central London on four different lines that far more people will have heard of. A tube station with a distinctive ending that makes it easier to guess what the pun’s about. “Snoregate”. There you go, Casper. I did a better job than your advertising copywriters and I did it in about a minute.

I don’t mind that I can come up with a better crap joke than they can. What irritates me is that someone pitched that advert idea – the one that’s been used a thousand times before and which can be seen in multiple adverts for all sorts of products in every tube carriage already – they pitched it like it was their own brilliant original idea, and they got told it was a good idea, and they got paid for it. And then someone sat down and came up with four of the most half-baked, half-arsed puns on tube station names – so bad that at least one of them is obscure to the point of not working at all when a moment’s thought is all it takes to find a better one – and they put their pen down because they thought they were good enough. And then someone else agreed, and they paid money for it. People got paid for being this bad at their job.

That’s why it bothers me. Because I know I could do bedder. I just need snore of a chance.

Avatar Big Frank’s Global Domination – Graphic Design

It’s been a while since we last caught up with Chris’ dad, Big Frank, so let’s delve back into his crazy life and see what he’s been up to in the last twelve months.

It seems as though Big Frank has grown tired of boats and bicycles, and has entered the challenging word of graphic design. His new company, BigfrankMedia, are a creative graphic design communications agency working across all media in London. He works closely with clients, building long term relationships and delivering practical solutions that work.

This is in direct contrast to when I last saw him, telling Alexa to find a song so that he could play this to me, and inviting me into his house for pre-Christmas booze.

I am also reliably informed that BigfrankMedia has an innovative, hands-on approach. He designs everything from brochures, books, magazines and posters to websites, interiors and identities. If he’s known well throughout London I am surprised that Chris has not mentioned this sooner, given that he is Lord Mayor and Emperor of somewhere down South, presumably London.

I have always known Big Frank to be positive and committed to making a difference. It is nice that he is carrying the same ethics across to his company and bringing joy to people’s lives.

With the deepest of respect, I think we should all raise a glass to toast our dear friend and sometimes parent, Big Frank.

 

Avatar How to name a company

You will probably remember that, some years ago now, Ian and myself decided that the best way to name a company was to use the name of the person followed by the thing their company did. That way, everyone knew where they stood and there could be no uncertainty. “Peter’s Window Cleaning” is a good company name. “Lucy’s Cafe” is another.

You can see the problem of badly named companies everywhere. “Boots”, for example, is a bad company name because it’s actually a chemist and doesn’t sell any kind of footwear. Having been founded by a man called John Boot, its name should obviously be “John’s Medicines”.

I bring this up because I would like to share with you the worst company name in the world. It’s a hair salon I pass every day on the way to the station. It’s called “www.comb”.

I find it hard to understand how anyone thought this was a good idea. “www.comb” sounds stupid when you try to say it out loud. It’s not actually the web address for the company (that’s www.comb.org.uk, itself pretty misguided because “.org.uk” is meant for non-profit organisations, but whatever). The name is, however, specifically designed to look like a web address, so for some reason the company has deliberately been given a name that is formatted as a web address but which isn’t the web address of the company. The only way you can use the company’s services is by physically going into a shop, and there is no sense in which this is an online company, so having the abbreviation for “world wide web” in its name is meaningless. And of course if you go into a hair salon, you would hope that using a comb is not the pinnacle of their skills. You’d hope they’re good at scissors, and hairdryers, and styling tongs, and that sort of thing. Being good at combs shouldn’t be their big sell.

Let’s be clear: the name of this business should probably be “Helen and Lisa’s Hair Salon”. Choosing a different name would be sub-optimal but acceptable. Choosing the name “www.comb”, though,  is madness and must be stopped.

Avatar Questionable Truffles

Having spent a good five minutes looking at this, just what the hell is this?

Truffles I get. Commerce and purchasing items I get. Walking around in supermarkets taking photos of curios and novelties I get. But squiffy truffles? Can you describe a truffle as ‘squiffy’?

Were it not for the fact that my phone recognised the word ‘squiffy’ without much input from me, I would be inclined to start screaming about why such a word should exist and who the Ben Nevis is actually using it in polite conversation or any conversation at all?

I used the word once, maybe twice, in my whole life of lives.

Would you eat a squiffy truffle?

Avatar Selling a car

Are you tired of being able to move around at speed with the radio on and feel like maybe you’d prefer staying in the same place and owning more money instead? Then perhaps you’d like to sell your car.

Before the fall of the People’s Democratic Republic of Great Britain, you could only sell your car to the National People’s Used Car Supermarket, where the secret police would beat you until you agreed to their low, low prices. But nowadays there’s lots of ways to sell a car.

All those websites that say they buy any car dot com

They’ll tell you on their website that your car is worth an amount that is actually slightly higher than what you paid when you bought it. Then they make an appointment for you to go in and sell it to them. When you arrive (at a dirty portakabin at the wrong end of a supermarket car park) a disinterested man will ask you lots of questions, photograph the car from all angles and then take it for a desultory test drive before phoning his boss in, I don’t know, Milton Keynes or Stockholm or Barbuda. They will then offer you £300 for it. You say you know the car is worth more than that and on the website their estimate said £45,000 and a gold tiara. The man sighs like you’re one of the difficult ones and phones his boss back and says OK, they can go up to £350. You leave.

Trade it in

If what you actually want is another car (seriously, what’s wrong with you, you’ve got a car, just drive that for god’s sake, what do you want a different one for, they’re basically all the same) then you might be able to give your car to the person who is selling you the new car. That way you give them a car and some money instead of giving them some money and some more money. When you do that they will look at it and nod thoughtfully and tell you the microscopic scuff on the paintwork that is so small you’ve never actually seen it before knocks a bit of value off the car, and then they offer you £450 for it. You leave, saying you’ll sell it elsewhere instead. Like, seriously, just keep the car you have and drive that, you cretin, what are you even putting yourself through all this for.

Sell it privately

The person who will pay the most for your car is some idiot off the street who knows no more about cars than you do and who isn’t aware that it’s worth either £350 or £450 depending on which professional shyster you ask. All you have to do is make them aware of it. To do that you photograph it from every angle and list it on a website that trades autos. They list a phone number on their website that connects directly to your mobile number and for the next few days you keep receiving phone calls from sullen, suspicious-sounding men with a range of intimidating accents who sound like people you would normally cross the street to avoid. They ask you questions you don’t think you’re qualified to answer and try to beat you down on the asking price before they’ve even come to see the damn thing. You hope one of them just buys it and goes away soon so you can take down the advert and end your time as a chat line for middle aged men who are obsessed with timing belts and vehicle tax bands.

Next steps

When you have sold your car, don’t forget to buy another car with the money so you can go through the whole exhilarating process again in a few years’ time.