Take This - Excitement in The Bubble Office!

I don't know if you realise this but you're living in an exciting time. Right now. Can you feel it?

What about this: Barack Hussein Obama II. Just think about it for a moment, bloody amazing isn't it... (you should be hearing applause in your ears now). It's this amazement that leads to overwhelming excitement, but it’s not his time, yet. So I'm not going to harp on about the United States of America and the fate of this super power being held in the hands of their first black President because it's in the dull bit now (the unconscious mind's clapping now sarcastically slows to a dribble). Because everything, every single thing waits for Christmas.

Now, this isn't going to be some hard sell on the excitement of Christmas, because once the whole Santa thing is realised at about 12, which nearly ruined my sense of trust and responsibility, it has its draw backs and the excitement wanes a little. You know, the frustrating gift buying for relatives you hardly know. Or going to spend quality time with the folks and passing at break neck speed past the quality part of the time and there you sit... awaiting a night sleeping in 'Your Bed' circa 1988. And then there’s sitting in a stagnant position between two people; one beaming with surprising intent brandishing a pack of Imperial Leather Soap with your name neatly written on the tag, and the other, offering yet another Quality Street. So there you sit moving a coffee cream around your mouth because all the toffee pennies have gone, and you've persauded yourself that you really want to see the Christmas special on television, which is slightly less special than when originally screened back in 1926 when John Logie Baird introduced it. No, for all the excitement that the twenty-fifth brings it also sticks a middle finger to excitement.

Nor am I talking about the economic situation and the excitement therein. Yes really, the excitement that comes through the desperation of an economic downturn - you've obviously never hit those lows. Just stop earning for a while and want. Want money and a job and then after you've been rejected, dismissed and unwanted you’ll feel dejected and mentally broken into teeny tiny bits to the point you may find yourself comfort eating the same repugnant CV's you've been sending out just before you get to the excitement. Then it comes, washing over you. Really, it's definitely worth the wait. Also, this seems to me to be a very exciting time to learn Economics, from the bottom up as it were.

No, this excitement is all over four blokes who will never feel that level of excitement... and they may soon become five blokes once more. Ladies and Ladies, I give you Take That. It’s rumoured Robbie may be coming back to join the boyband that sound tracked the 90’s which is still made up of Mark, Gary, Jason and the other one. They’ve been hitting the number one spot again and appearing everywhere in recent months and I wouldn’t mind so much but they’ve entered into the Marks and Spencer’s ad’s and therefore muscled in on the delicate and scantily clad forms of Ms. Lily Cole and Mrs. Noemie Makelele.

I hope they do reform to the five piece. Then shortly after Robbie will leave them and it will all end again with thousands of girls ringing the Samaritains but I'll be able to go a day without them playing on the bloody radio or cavorting on the TV, greeting me in Marks and Spencer but most importantly being lusted over by the girls in the office.

One of which is my boss. I dedicate this post to you.

The Concierge At The Grosvenor Took Me Out The Back...

This weekend was Vision Charity's premier evening in the calendar, an evening which aims to raise money to transform the lives of visually impaired children - The Vision Charity Ball. It is also an opportunity for the media industry professionals to gather together, get sloshed, out bid and generally have a thoroughly enjoyable evening without thinking about bandwidth, tapeless capabilities and the introduction of Red by thinking of the unfortunate darlings who's lives will be made that much better from being exposed to a Sensory Room. Fantastically we were able to raise enough for at least two of the aforementioned rooms from the evening's silent auction, lucky dip and the main auction where prizes varied from a Matisse to a Smart Car.

The menu boasted a delicious parcel of camembert and cranberries, a pesto crusted rack of lamb and the most alcoholic trifle I've ever binged on... imagine some quality Elmlea whipped and sparingly perched on top of a pint of brandy. Needless to say there wasn't a desert spoon which wasn't licked clean and barely an inch left on the dance floor once the intoxicated pudding had taken it's affect!

But the tipsy state of most didn't take the shine off the glamour. It was a fantastic way to kick off December; everyone looked lovely although before next year I must learn how to do up a bow tie, or get a clip on - I don't want to make a habit of disappearing out the back with Paulo, the Concierge at The Grosvenor.

Make Mine... Service with a smile?!

It’s Monday, well, actually it’s Tuesday but for the reference of this post, which I wrote late last night (whilst again indulging in The West Wing – it’s an addiction!) it's Monday. Which means it’s a trip to the sandwich shop for those of us still indulging in carbs... it actually has more to do with the fact that Jo’s in the office than the sudden need to have an intake of bread!

We normally drag ourselves round to the homogenous atmosphere of a prêt two seconds away (especially if drizzly!) or to the slightly further away, but normally queue out of the door Make Mine on Wardour Street. Today was a Make Mine day and we were met with the normal crazed sandwich hunters all huffing and tutting and queuing to get an overpriced treat that will taste great for a while but will inevitably be a thing of the past in an hour - imagine a new 3 double ‘g’ all singing all dancing iphone being sold from a small corner shop in Soho where there are less geeks with bad breath and NHS glasses and more ‘trendy’ Soho-ites with skinny jeans and, well... NHS glasses actually.

Anyway, we battled through, placed our orders and then came the bit which essentially drives us to this particular outlet every week... the concisely self-titled, ‘make your name up bit’. You see, every week we have the childish tendency of lying to a young girl in a sandwich shop by NOT telling her our real names – Ta Da! Then we stand there awaiting our sarnie in fear of missing our names when they’re called out because we’re not used to being called ‘Dennis’ or ‘Sandie’ or Donatello – I was feeling especially hilarious one day, how we laughed!

However, it is this kind of getting to know the customer loveliness that is lacking, isn’t it? Both Sadie and Jo have recently jetted back and forth across the globe, between them catching twelve or thirteen flights. Don’t panic!! They’ve assured me they’ll be spending the rest of the week working out how to rid future generations of the newly created carbon footprint caused by over indulgent flights – planting a tree, buying a Prius or simply looking at people at the checkout in a condescending way when they don’t reuse their plastic bags! I digress, on their return they of course did the shop talk, where they’d been, bought and quite what they indulged in.
However, they also both remarked on the apparent lack of customer service in the UK. They enthused in Australia’s level of advice, the US’s approach to customer attention. In one instance the sales assistant enquired about their name, which was then duely called out over the cubicle and even scribed on a white board on the changing room door for future (slightly unnerving) reference. They loved the suggestions and lapped up the attention which was adorned on them with hanger in hand. But generally the staff were being over friendly, something certainly glared at in London and throughout England, as far as I aware.

So was it just the holiday gaze that took hold of the girlies. The everything’s new and exciting gaze where everything appears rosier and the grass greener, or is it that the over enthusiastic and highly attentive service of those supervisors, sales assistants and people in general from over the pond and beyond have got what London is missing – service with a smile, and apparently much more?!

I thought about this... and well, maybe but we just don’t want it. We like to grumble and don’t like to be smothered! Plus, and this might just be me, but don’t we want to poke fun at this approach to friendly-friendly shopping experience and not return the false niceties of an American store or an Australian fashion house. Admittedly, my name’s not Dennis it’s Paul, so why do I want to be childish about it. What if they decided to be childish their end of the deal and greet me with a whining why? Whhy? Whhhy? to every aspect of my order, would I find that funny?! I think not. But it should be, or could be harmless fun but actually I’m helping, along with Jo may I add to the lack of service in shops throughout London. The thing is I’m not going to stop. I’m childish and enjoy the self indulgent carb binge nearly as much as the mockery of the un-English, over-friendly, personalized (with a ‘Z’) system at the sandwich shop! So here’s to great sandwiches, taking the piss and service without a smile.

With Sadie Away, We Had To Find Other Ways Of Entertaining Ourselves

Last week, in recognition of the most historical moment in American Political history in my lifetime I started a voyage into the fictional democratic administration of Josiah Bartlet.

Let me explain... when I first joined Bubble and Squeak we started discussing favourite television shows. 'The West Wing!' someone proclaimed 'It simply had to be watched!' retorted others. It turned out that throughout the various people in our little office there lay, just waiting for my viewing pleasure the whole box set of the entire seven years. Wendy lent me the first series, which consists of 22 episodes of the 156 episodes, which form the seven series.

I borrowed it last weekend and watched it committedly. It was an amazingly engaging story, brilliantly written and characterisation of the like which we rarely see in cinema and have become accustomed to in quality television dramas.
Needless to say, I have now been utterly seduced by the on goings of The President, Leo, Josh, Sam, Toby, CJ who have me traveling with them on their journey through the office relationships, complimented by the backdrop of the White House where the speeches and invasions are as entertaining as the pardoning of bloody turkeys!

A five star recommendation by all those Bubbles.

Sud This!

We were bemused yesterday to be asked if Soho's favourite PR agency had 'Bubbled' Trafalgar Square.

Page seven, thelondonpaper. Page four, Metro. Page eight, The Evening Standard. Page two, London Lite.
They all squeaked the same bubble ridden story of a 'Mr. Bubbles' going crazy with a bottle of washing up liquid in the centre of London in an effort to contribute to a European craze of bubbling up public fountains! A website where people can brag about what they've done whilst wearing the obligatory hood and photographing it on their camera phone no doubt has been set up to fuse the mischief of Jackass with the bonding of Facebook. It was reported that an individual armed with carrier bags full of the green craziness simply lunged into the fountain which then erupted and covered the square in bubbles - like a bubble terrorist however the only carnage was Nelson's never looked cleaner.

We do have our suspicions, and are helping the police with their enquires, that a certain bubble could have been responsible as she does have remarkably fairy soft hands. Unfortunately she's skipped the country?! hmmm...

The Monday After The Weekend After The Thursday Of The Conch

I feel exhausted. OK, so it's Monday morning, every twenty something in the country is slouched over their keyboard feeling like they've indulged too much, wondering why they had those shots of god only knows what and fundamentally look and feel rotten! Sure, thank you for your kind thoughts and compassion. However I've been feeling like this since Friday and all of this can be blamed on The Conch.

And Sadie"you’restaying-nowgetonthatdancefloor"Groom!

This was Bubble and Squeak's third Conch and in my humble opinion it was a great success. Not least because it saw me leave The May Fair Hotel at 4 am after celebrating with the winners, drowning sorrows with the losers and thinking that the drinkies had gone to my head. The awards themselves looked amazing, the venue was stunning and the entertainment was well received. Neil Mullarkey was a hilarious host and a true gentlemen, the well mannered and disturbingly flexible contortionist screwed herself up into a perspex box and then closed the door to rapturous applause and the magician worked the crowd by showing off his impressive card shuffling skills which were met with awe and disbelief.

The winners cheered, the losers whined and the 'well done' emails and congratulatory bouquets flooded into the Bubble's office for putting on such a great show and making nearly everyone's Conch a great one. We tried our best and hope you all had a great time… and Friday off!

Does that look like...

Soho and the female form have always gone hand in hand. From the ladies of the night to the Revue circa 1970 and this week, those shiny awards that look like a discreet part of the female anatomy. I apologise, they don’t. It’s me being perverted. They look like a conch. And that's because we are less than 24 hours away from.... The Conch Awards 2008.
Sadie’s currently fretting about tickets and the possibility of over booking the cinema - how could we spin sitting on laps…? A cosy networking possibility, speed lapping?! My telephone number is somehow the first point of contact for dwarves, cybervixens, golden statues and a boy band calling themselves 'The Singing Plague Victims'. Last night in the pre Conch mayhem Jo was in her living room cutting and pasting having resorted to taking Operation Cue Cards home in an effort to get intoxicated after we took all solvents away apart from her Prit Stick and Sue, well, what exactly has Sue been doing... "doing The Conch - you just wouldn't understand!"

The Bubbles have the wonderous task of crossing all T's and dotting all I's. And we hope all those attending have a suitably wonderful time! Even without the Singing Plague Victims.

I've been IBC'd - An Introduction

It's 22:36 on Tuesday and I'm still knackered from my flirtation with the Media's biggest European exhibition - IBC. For those who don't know, which included me three weeks ago, the event takes place and essentially takes over Amsterdam for five days in September. And it's big. A showcase on a grand scale that's somewhat reminiscent of a zoo or a circus, only in this zoo technology replaces the penguins and caged lions and the attendees who pay their money and flock to stare and marvel at the performances in the big top actually venture into the equally bizarre constructed world within the RAI.

What really got me was the scale and diversity. The Avids and Sonys of the world were there, the unbelievably popular stands (maybe five percent up on last year?!) where people poured over the latest advances but then and this is where the industry started to unnerve me slightly, there were stands solely designated to the strangely impressive array of microphone shields which I'm assured can come in every conceivable shape, size and colour. Let me know if you're in need of one… I lost eleven minutes of my life being talked at - I’d like to think they weren’t lost for nothing. Email me on paul@doesntwanttoknowaboutmouldedfoam.com.

And on that note, I think I'll catch up on some sleep.

i should have ibC'n it coming!

Talk on the IBC beach…

· The Credit Crunch. With the news of financial institutions crashing around us how will this affect the media?

· Super Hi-Vision!

· In contrast the future for cameras is looking bright, and Rouge is the colour. Metadata anyone..?

· Dear Google and Youtube, You’re Parasites. Regards, Michael Grade.

· Is film dead yet? Nope.

Getting IBC’d Up!

Over the next Six days we’ll be covering the IBC.
I say SIX because the over excitable Bubbles that we are will be hanging out getting all the news, latest buzz words and random business cards from the very start of the fun and games right through the drunken introductions, grand unveilings and Sadie’s Traditional Steak Dinner Monday til Tuesday comes and the bubbles have all burst…

..and we’ll be back in the office.

Blog

Definition:
an online diary; a personal chronological log of thoughts published on a Web page; also called Weblog, Web log.
Example:
Typically updated daily, blogs often reflect the personality of the author.

We’re starting this blog afresh. That definition above is for our benefit more than yours - it’s a guide, because as like everything else we do at Bubble and Squeak... it simply has to be right! The newest member of the team has been put in control of this blog and within the posts below and those in the archive he’ll endeavour to deliver a blog that’s tuned in; giving insights into public relations, he'll reflect on our work, divulge rumours from the media industry and Soho as well as allow you access to the hilarity which take place within the Bubble and Squeak office.

Anyway, that’s what you can expect…whether or not you’ll get it is another thing entirely?!