Posted by Amanda Chapel
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Okay, the moment has come! All our hard work is gonna pay off. Finally, all this flatulence in PR is about to ring the register BIG.
By way of a little background... anyone who's been in the business for more than... well... an hour knows this: we go where the money is. All that bread-and-butter services stuff, excuse me but that doesn't keep the lights on. And things like Fleishman's Gay and Boomer practices... c'mon; that's fluffy decorative window dressing, is all. From a bean-counter's perspective, you'd be better off buying lottery tickets. The REAL money is in the next crisis. Cigarettes, Vioxx, asbestos, breast implants, lead paint, glass in the baby food... NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT!
A good crisis is one of those few times when we don't have to worry constantly about rationalizing our bills. $232,445 for this month's fee. You got it! $26,050 out-of-pocket for photo copying?! No problemo.
It's like when the client asks his attorney what it's going to cost to get out of jail. The lawyer harrumphs, "Baring any unforeseen eventualities, it will likely require as much as it's going to take and not a penny more." A good crisis is a license to pinch whatever the hell one's smarmy little conscience can bear. Money? Just name it. Their house and car? It's yours. Their lovely daughters? Take 'em.
Here, in filings with the SEC, Wal-Mart recently disclosed that the newly appointed executive vice president of corporate affairs, Leslie Dach, is getting a stock grant of 67,522 shares. The grant is estimated to be worth a bit more than $3 million. Okay? Know what I mean Vern?
Anyway, speaking on behalf of all of us in senior management that have not been otherwise duped by all this blog hooey, we get down on our knees daily, humbly, devoutly, praying for rain. Terrorism, bird flu, transfats, obesity, even gambling have been all very very promising but unfortunately, except for our own bluster, we've got nothing to show for it. Not a damn thing. Fuck.
Excuse me Ms. Chapel, the president of the National Cattlemen's Beef Association is on line one.
Is that John Queen again? Tell them I am in a meeting and I'll get back to him sometime later today.
No matter how desperate they might be, I always like to have a few preliminary program ideas in my pocket before I talk to prospects. Here's what I am thinking: How 'bout an Auburn University beta-tested fart-fired electric plant? They'll do it. Or, maybe National Pull My Finger Day! Let's bring back the 3 Fs, farts, fun and family. Surely, we'd also have our crack government relations team push Congress for a huge cow beano subsidy. For the right money, I am totally confident that we can make these things happen.
But in the end (no pun), after years of doing this stuff, I know that all the showbiz John Queen is going to buy, isn't gonna help him all that much. Fact is, cow farts are pretty disgusting. As always, on a fundamental level, battling this kind of evil is going to come down to obfuscation, spin and denial. I say go after the damn sheep who wrote the report. It's common knowledge they're notorious farters. Ever smell a sheep fart?