marcus-brown

Dissoziative Fugue

2007-08-29T12:19:00.000-07:00

This is the last post on "It Could Get Worse". It's all Ben's fault, so blame him. It was a good home but it's time to call it a day. It's over - this time it's really over. It's over because there is something else to do - a new home.

From now on you will find me here at The Kaiser and you'll find a whole bunch of other people that you may have already run into. Sacrum is there, The Dead Artist is there and even The Lord God Almighty is there. If you've ever left a comment on It Could Get Worse you'll be there too.

That's it then. There we go. Lights out then. Anything else to say? No. No, I think we're done.

Good bye. See you on the other side.

Coming to terms with a new set of rules.

2007-08-27T03:13:00.000-07:00

Don’t look at me like that, please don’t do it. No, stop.
Please don’t … slam the door.

Can I come in?

Listen I think we need to talk. Just sit down and listen. Could you put that book down? No, I said put it down, not chuck it across the room. What’s going on? I don’t understand any of this. Can’t you just tell me? Can’t we just talk about this? We used to be able to talk. You used to be able to talk to me.

Don’t roll your eyes at me young lady. Don’t talk to me in that tone of voice. I’m not some spotty bloke in the playground. Darling do you think you could put down your mobile phone – that text message can wait.

Can you just tell me what’s up? Do you think you could do that? Please, I’m begging you. Please tell me what to do; how to make it better and to make all of this stop. Can you tell me why you’re running away from me?

We used to be so close and now you seem so far away and it’s breaking my heart. Can you tell me what I need to do to make it better – tell me; I’ll do it, do anything. Can you tell me?

Oh. You can’t.

But you know where you can find me, right? I mean, when you’ve worked it all out, you will tell me won’t you? You’ll do that won’t you darling?

Please.

Just let dad know when you’re ready to talk. Or something.

England expects…

2007-08-23T03:48:00.000-07:00

Last year, just before the football world cup, my mum and dad sent me the ugliest baseball cap in the world. It is red, and has the words “England Expects” on it. I’ve never worn it. I hate it because it reminds me that as an Englishman, and a lover of football I actually expect very little of the English national football team.

Today, I’m sat in at my desk, trying to avoid rather a lot of Germans, who didn’t even bother to watch the match last night, but still know that 1) England was crap and 2)Germany wasn’t that much better but won.

I expected nothing and got nothing. Bugger.

Look who's got his shit together.

2007-08-22T05:22:00.000-07:00

Well the power of user generated whatever! Look's like God has finally got his shit together. He's going for the full out CEO corporate blogging thing.

Blimey.

God - this is my favourite blog of all time.

2007-08-17T11:55:00.000-07:00

The old bugger has been busy then! This is my favourite blog of all time. God blog. Enjoy.

What a fucking stupid thing to say.

2007-08-17T05:39:00.000-07:00

It’s been an odd week. Lot’s of things going on – with lots of things to think about and to consider. Something happened yesterday which really worried, and yes upset me and I’m not sure what to do about it.

I checked the stats for this blog yesterday and, skimming over them, spotted that someone had come to this blog after looking for something in google – so I clicked on the link to have a look what they had been searching for. It was a very precise search and well honed; the person knew exactly what they were looking for and this blog came up first in the search results.

One of my comments, flippantly made as a joke that referred to a discussion on another blog, matched their search criteria exactly. Now, I’m not interested in maintaining some kind of sterile, safe-brand-image just in case a future employer pops by this blog or something. God knows if you’ve spotted my comments they are, well colourful and if I’m angry, a little aggressive and that’s because that’s the way I am. In person.

But this was a little different. And it has upset me – and has made me think about all this commenting stuff we do on each others blogs.

The likelihood of that person coming back again are slim, but if you do – please get in touch, my email is marcus [at] brown-mpm [dot] de. I know some people that you can and should talk too.

I never signed up to you.

2007-08-16T08:57:00.000-07:00

Goodbye. Goodbye to you and your friends.

It's outstanding in its field.

2007-08-10T15:49:00.000-07:00

OK, so you guys know that her in doors is away on her holiday. Because I'm one sad bastard, I don't download porn when I spend an evening on my own, getting pissed. No, I end up watching stuff like this:

Now, for all of you so called brand experts out there have a look at this:

Yup, you can stick your brand voices, brand cells and brand whatever up your arse, because this guy has just got it sorted.

More of this advertising excellence can be found here, with huge thanks to George for pointing us in the right direction.

When the cat's away.

2007-08-09T16:21:00.000-07:00

Eva has gone on a "girls holiday" with her best friend. They missed their plane and have spent about four hours trying to find their hotel. When she's away I always slip into old habits. Bad habits like listening to music you wouldn't normally own up to, keeping your shoes on in the house and eating rubbish.

Jesus, I still love Pink Floyd. It's nearly as bad as Queen, but not as bad as the Smiths. But not a good as Boney M.

In six days time, when she comes home I will of course deny it. I will deny it all. And the place will be spotless.

Children our our future (4)

2007-08-07T17:23:00.000-07:00

Daughter #1 (12 years old): Dad, can you tell the doctor to piss off?
Dad (36 years old): You tell her.
Daughter #1 (12 years old): Piss off
Doctor (approx. 40 years old): Err...
Daughter #2 (9 years old, and on the phone): How's Hannah, is she better?
Dad (36 years old): Oh yes darling. Hannah is on the mend.

It was a horrible 24 hours. It's not over, but it's hopefully getting better.