Imagine you’re an author.
You’ve just written what you consider to be the best book in the history of mankind.
It’s amazing.
Utterly amazing.
Now imagine you’ve asked the hottest woman you’ve ever seen to come over and ‘read a few chapters’.
Yes, we all know that’s code for ‘come over, get drunk and let me shag you senseless’ … but she seemed OK with it when you invited her.
So a few hours pass and after hoovering the floor, throwing out the empty pizza boxes and washing the sheets … the doorbell finally rings.
You run down and just as you are about to open the door, you catch your reflection in the mirror.
Goddamn you look good.
You’ve showered, shaved, put some after shave on – including splashing a few dabs ‘down there’ – so you know tonight is going to be an amazing night.
With your best attempt to marry a seductive smile with a nonchalant nod, you open the door and welcome her in.
My god she looks stunning.
S-T-U-N-N-I-N-G.
You invite her in, shove a glass of white wine in her hand and sit down inches away from her in the time it takes a born again Christian to mention ‘god’.
Yes, that quick.
“This is nice” you say.
“Yes it is”, she nods.
“Would you like to listen to some music?” you ask.
“I’d rather read the chapters of your book” she replies.
THE BOOK.
THE FUCKING BOOK.
You knew you had forgotten to do something and that was print the bastard thing out.
DAMMIT … that’s going to completely destroy the mood and make washing the bed sheets a complete waste of time.
But hang on, you are saved, because you just bought this:
Yes, that really is a printer with a built in music player/smart phone slot and speaker.
When people first saw it they laughed at you, but who the hell is laughing now.
You are.
You’re laughing like the sort of madman who has just pulled off the impossible.
And you have, because you can print the 17,254 pages of your book while playing One Direction at the same time.
One Direction, the band that’s guaranteed to get a lady to lower her knickers in no time.
GENIUS.
You look around with the sort of smug smile that is permanently fixed to Callum Best’s smug fucking face.
And then it turns to horror.
Your lady has her coat on.
Worse, she has her coat on and is heading to the door.
“What are you doing?” you scream, despite trying desperately to sound calm.
“I’m going home” she replies without even turning around.
“But … but … why?” you stammer.
“Because only a twat would think of combining a printer with a sound speaker and only a loser would actually buy it”.
And with that she slams the door behind her, leaving your dreams in the dust.
You stagger to the sofa and slump down
Devastated … distraught and exhausted, you place your head in your hands and cry.
It starts off as a few tears before erupting into a tsunami of sobs.
You can hardly breathe.
You can hardly see.
But you know this is all your own fault, because she was right … who would think of combining a printer with a sound speaker and who would actually buy it?
A twat, that’s who.
A twat with his head in his hands and crying huge tears.
Alone.
At home.
Like he will be forever.
Until he dies.
Quietly and lonely.
And all because Samsung thought a printer with speaker was a good idea.
Idiots.
So to the people at Samsung, I say pull your bloody head in …
This sort of shit doest impress anyone, least of all your shareholders who are now realising that your ‘carefully constructed business strategy’ is actually a load of bollocks because your plan for growth is nothing more than:
[1] Keeping your engineers busy and/or …
[2] Throwing as much shit at the wall and hope some of it sticks.
In other words, the sort of rubbish your typical advertising holding company thinks is a smart business plan.
So quit with the pointless shit Samsung, especially the pointless shit targeting a worldwide audience of 1 or you might end up with blood on your hands as well as angry investors.