How Trump was trumped by a disgraceful confession

busty idolDisgusted. Appalled. Outraged. Repulsed. Revolted. Stunned. Abhored. I am all of those and more this week, dear Busty fans, and for once I am not talking about the US President-elect.
No, more of Donald Trump later. But first to Marketing Week editor Russell Parsons, who while blowing smoke up his own arse about the magazine’s online revamp (“same great content, same great people bringing it to you”) actually admitted that its previous online incarnation was shite (“much of this we have been covering already but boy, did we make you work to find it”).
Now call me old-fashioned – in fact you can call me whatever you like, you normally do – but if I had been paying to read Marketing Week, or dare I say shelling out tens of thousands of pounds to advertise in it for the past two years, I might just be asking for my money back. Just a thought.
Not that our chums over in Twickenham escape lightly this week, either. On hearing that the world’s most famous comb-over – not to mention groper, misogynist, racist and bigot – had been voted in to lead the Land of the Free, Campaign’s first story on this tumultuous event was that Creature of London – an independent agency of about 30 staff – were closing at 4.30pm so that employees could leave an hour early to “do some good”. Earth-shattering stuff.
Still, I take my hat off to my old pal Jeremy Lee for exposing an article by Guardian TV, film and music critic Stuart Heritage which managed to link John Lewis’ “Buster the boxer” Christmas ad with Trump’s victory. “Watch the advert while listening to Hillary Clinton’s concession speech. I dare you. It’s heartbreaking. John Lewis, you’ve done the impossible. You’ve made 2016 worse”, Heritage wrote. As Jezza rightly points out: “Oh dear. The ad is supposed to be a bit of seasonal fun.”
Talking of seasonal fun, it is with some joy that I can reveal that the Women in Marketing Awards have finally recognised ISBA’s Debbie Morrison with an Outstanding Contribution to Marketing gong.
I say some joy, because neither little ol’ Busty nor Ms Morrison was able to make it to the actual ceremony. Of course, I was NFI’d, which is slightly hurtful considering my stirling work for the sisterhood. But poor old Debbie was stuck in bed ill, so she missed her big moment of recognition for “27 years dedicated service to 450 brands”.
Still, knowing our Debs, I am sure she will make up for it somehow…

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