‘Z-List’ Busty hatches a masterplan

I’m not happy. Another year and another snub from the Campaign A List. Of course, I’m in good company with you readers – a direct marketer in the advertising industry’s ultimate guide to, ahem, “adland royalty” is about as rare as a finding someone Danny Rogers hasn’t tried to chat up, but, hey, we can but dream.
It’s said that some people are so desperate to get in it that they’ll do virtually anything. Allegedly it cost Chris Whitson many hundreds of pounds in journalist entertainment, but he got there in the end.
To be honest I’m not that bothered being deemed “Z-List” – I just wanted to get into the party to find myself a rich man but it seems last week’s column about Jeremy Lee has got me into a spot of bother. Mind you, I did see that some sycophants tried to ease Campaign’s move to Teddington by sending them lunch on the first day. Bless.
The thing is, ever since I got dumped by my plastic surgeon, life has been far from perfect and with Christmas looming I am starting to get slightly desperate. It’s all a far cry from last year, when I had the lovely Tarquin Farquhar (Farquhar by name, dirty Farquhar by nature) spoiling me rotten.
Alas, it seems I’ll have to make do with next week’s DMA Awards instead. I know there’ll be plenty of well-healed gentlemen there, and, although most may be the wrong side of 70, at least it means they won’t be too demanding in the bedroom.
And things are certainly looking up at the DMA. Last year, they hired some bloke who made Richard Stilgoe seem like a top act; this year we’re going to be enjoying the delights of Jimmy “What’s the difference between a dead baby and a ham sandwich? I don’t cum on a ham sandwich before I eat it” Carr.
That’s right, his jokes are nearly as offensive as my esteemed editor when he’s had a few beers… Let’s just hope Jimmy doesn’t try to pick on Wanda Goldwag – like that woman from Three Non-Blondes did a few years back – or he could end up getting more than he bargained for…
What a minute, though, he’s loaded isn’t he? In fact, he’s worth millions. And I’ve got just the thing to keep that filthy mouth of his silent –once he’s got his head buried between my 38DDs, no one will get a peep out of him…

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