The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]


In Blog Years, We Are Officially 10487492367 Years Old On Sunday.
May 1, 2026, 5:15 am
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Yes, it’s Friday.

And yes, it’s the first of May.

But neither of those things are as incredible as this …

You see, on Sunday, it will be 20 years since I started this blog.

TWENTY BLOODY YEARS!

That’s before the iPhone.
And Android.
And Facebook.
And the Kindle.
And the financial crisis.
And before Pluto lost its planet creds.
AND BEFORE WI-FI WAS PUBLICLY AVAILABLE … so a very long time ago.

I still remember why I started it …

It wasn’t for any attempt for notoriety or popularity, it was more to do with survival.

You see I’d got a job that – frankly – I was woefully under-qualified for, and because it demanded so much of my time and energy to make sure I didn’t completely fuck it up, I needed an outlet for all the ideas and thoughts that were going around my head that I just didn’t feel were right for what I needed to do at that time.

Not because I was sure I was going to use them later … more because I needed to feel I was still connected to the stuff I loved while also believing that if I didn’t find a way to get them out of my head, they’d maybe be no more space left for anything new to enter my head.

And so this blog was born.

Reading through the first few posts not only reveals the times we were living in, but also the headspace I was in.

Trying to balance making sense of stuff happening around me while also needing an outlet for stuff I was feeling or thinking … which, in many ways, set the tone for how this blog has been for over 2 decades.

Which George recently described as, “the blog version of TK Maxx”.

He’s not wrong … and in some ways, I really like that.

Sure, among the almost 5000 posts I’ve written, there’s a lot of [to keep the TK Maxx analogy going] cheap and nasty shit in there … but there’s also a few ‘designer label’ gems hidden amongst it all.

At least for me.

Stuff that made me think, challenge or question stuff in ways that I had not imagined or considered before.

Stuff that ended up impacting how I did things and how I still do things.

Stuff that forced me to articulate what I believe, not just what I feel.

Maybe those posts meant nothing to anyone but me. Hell, maybe no one even read them. But while every post I’ve written reflects something about who I was – or am – those ‘self-defined gems’ have a special place in my heart because they represent a moment where I felt I was growing and learning.

It’s why I always enjoyed the comment section, because for all the overwhelming piss-taking I received, the vast majority always ‘encouraged’ me to look deeper, wider or longer at issues I’d written about. And I loved that. I loved how the people who commented always kept me on my toes … which is why one of the unexpected pleasures of writing this blog for so long has been seeing how my opinion on certain subjects has changed or evolved over the years. It’s served as a great reminder about the importance of always exposing yourself to others perspectives, opinions, experiences and standards, even if the goal of it is simply to be really sure about what you think or believe.

In many ways, that’s the biggest surprise of 20 years writing this blog.

I never expected anyone to comment on anything I wrote, because I started it just for me.

A private place to express my thoughts and idiocy.

But then Andy discovered it and he sent an email to everyone at Cynic and some of our clients announcing it and then the mayhem started.

At that point, blogging had become a big thing. A good thing. A community of people who wanted to help and contribute to what others were doing. A lot of this was down to the great Russell Davies and his iconic blog … a place that not only brought people from all over the world together, but inspired others to start writing their own as well.

It was a place that not only exposed me to a lot of brilliant people I’d never have known about without his blog – people like Gareth Kay, Paul Colman, Northern Planner, Rob Mortimer, Marcus, John Dodds, Lauren, Age to name but a few – it also brought people to my blog who helped add to the texture, lessons and perspectives I was writing about.

I will forever be grateful to Russell for that … especially as most of the people he inadvertently introduced me to, not only still exist in my life but I have met them all IN THE FLESH.

Alas the blogging community, like most things in life, has moved on with maybe only Martin and I still churning stuff out via that platform. [Well, he curates, I churn] And while technologies advances allows strategists to be even more connected in even more ways, the energy of the community is not the same as it was back in the early days of blogging.

Now it feels more aggressive.

More sharp elbows and self publicizing.

Wanting the spotlight on them rather than the work they do.

But then, the industry seems to value those who talk about the work more than those who actually make it … which kind-of highlights why the industry is in the state it finds itself in but refuses to acknowledge.

Emperor’s New Clothes anyone?!

Screenshot

That this blog is 20 years old blows my mind. I never thought it would last that long, mainly because I never gave much thought about how long I’d be writing the thing. It’s not always been fun – when I was receiving a lot of anonymous hate that resulted in me deciding to stop allowing comments was definitely a low point – but all in all, the whole experience has been pretty glorious.

In many ways, this is one of the longest committed relationships I’ve ever had.

And one of the most successful, hahaha.

The fact there are some people who have been reading it for almost as long as I have been writing it, is madness.

Have they no taste?
Have they got nothing better to do?
Or maybe they’re stuck in prison and this is part of their ‘sentence’.

The good news for them is there’s no way this will still be a ‘going concern’ in another 20 years … at least not in terms of how regular I’ve been writing posts for the past 2 decades. Not because I am running out of things to say [albeit Andy said I have only ever written 3 posts and just keep re-writing them in different ways] but because I’ll be – hopefully – doing other things with my life.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll always be grateful to advertising … it has given me a life I never could have dared to imagine … but I am increasingly spending more and more of my time working and collaborating with artists and I feel that’s where my future may be. Not because I don’t love what I do, but because I find their definition and expression of creativity even more interesting, challenging, open, provocative and progressive than where our industry is choosing to head.

But that’s not going to happen yet. Hell, it may not happen at all – I could get fired by all the artists tomorrow for all I know – which is why for the time being, I’ll keep happily juggling my two ‘lives’ while churning out daily blog posts at the same time.

Sorry, hahaha.

That said, the point of continuing this blog is different to what you may think and why I originally started it.

Because while it has helped me grow, learn, make new friends and even help build my professional reputation [which is hilarious when you read some of the stuff I’ve churned out, like this!] … it delivers something that is even more important to me.

Connection to my family.

I know … I know … that sounds weird-as-fuck, but what I mean is this:

A few years ago, Jill said that while she rarely ever reads my blog, when she does – she can hear my voice because of the way I write.

Put simply, how I write is how I talk … so when she reads my posts, it feels like I’m with her.

And she liked that.

Add to this that I’ve shared deeply personal and important moments in my life – from getting engaged to getting married, to Mum dying, to becoming a Dad, to getting Rosie – and Bonnie – to saying a tearful goodbye to Rosie, to moving from Singapore to HK to China to America to London to New Zealand [so far] … which means moving from cynic/WPP to Sunshine to Wieden+Kennedy to Deutsch to R/GA to Colenso [not to mention all the other highs and lows that have impacted or been introduced to my life over this period, be it death, covid, friends, family, health, books, chaos, and/or multitudes of weird, wild, crazy shit] … and this blog is no longer just a place where I rant rubbish, it’s a place my family can have me close even when I’m no longer here.

That means a lot to me.

Not because I want them to need me, but because I like knowing they can access me should they ever need me.

Or if Otis ever wants to introduce me to whoever becomes important in his life.

It’s why I’m going to keep writing it and why I’m going to move it to a free domain again, to make sure it always stay up … because what originally was a place just for me, has become a place that offers connection to the most important people to me.

And with that, I want to say a big thank you to everyone who has ever visited or commented.

Whether you meant it or not, you’ve given me far more than I ever imagined or hoped for.

Thank you. Love you. Grateful for you.

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If Dog Years Are Hard, Imagine What ‘Living With Campbell’ Years Must Be Like …
April 7, 2026, 6:20 am
Filed under: Bird, Bonnie, Cats, Dog, Home, Jill, Otis, Paula, Rosie, Sky

Welcome back. Did you eat lots of easter eggs?

Let’s be honest, even if you didn’t – as long as you had a long weekend, it was all good. Haha.

So to welcome you back I thought I’d write a wholesome post. No really. Maybe the sweetness of all the chocolate eggs I almost ate, got into my blood stream?

Anyway, a couple of days ago, it was a year since Bonnie came into our lives.

As people who have followed this blog for a while, you’ll know it was quite a big event for us because:

1 We had lost our beloved, very well-travelled, loveable-but-grumpy cat, Rosie the year before.

2 Jill had wanted a dog for as long as we had been together, but we’d resisted as we had moved countries so much and so often.

However, the loss of Rosie had shown just how much we missed having an animal in our house and lives.

Sure, Otis his budgie Sky … who, despite being very small, is louder [and grumpier] than a Brexit voter on twitter … however it wasn’t the same and it got to a point where the silence in the house was amplifying the loss of Rosie.

The thing was, having another cat felt wrong. I know that sounds mad, but it felt – at least to us – that doing that would be almost disrespectful towards Rosie. As if we were saying she could be replaced as quickly and easily as the average Hollywood marriage.

But I must admit I was still cautious about a dog. I’ve always loved them – and Jill, up until she met me, had always had them – but we live in a treehouse and so I felt we needed to give real consideration as to whether we could give it the life it deserved.

But three things – much to Jill and Otis’ delight – tipped me over to ‘yes’.

Firstly, I realized how good a dog would be for Otis.

Not just in having a ‘companion’ but in helping him manage/overcome some of the issues he was dealing with thanks to his dysgraphia.

Second was we found a breeder who specialized in dogs who were especially good at helping kids with issues of anxiety and confidence – not just in terms of parentage, but training.

And finally, was the fact I’d got healthy … so the idea of walking a pooch a lot was a positive rather than a negative.

So, with those 3 positives we took the plunge – which pleased Paula Bloodworth immensely after her 10+ years of lobbying for me to get a dog as she unashamedly prefers them to cats, hahaha – and then waited until the breeder informed us of a litter she felt contained puppies who could be very good for us.

And how right they were …

In a perfect world, we wanted a female dog, with a dark brown coat. And we got her. But more importantly, we wanted a dog who would be loving, gentle and – beyond the odd ‘zoomie’ calm for Otis. And we got that too.
In fact, from the moment she came into our house, Bonnie – named after a bourbon biscuit, as my tattoo celebrates – has been brilliant.

Sure, she ate all the zippers off cushions, has an unnatural love of socks and barks at her own reflection… but apart from those little quirks, she is a kind, loyal, caring dog.

And the impact she has had on Otis has been remarkable.

I won’t go into the details as that’s his story to own, but literally within weeks – the positive impact on Otis was unmistakable.

In many ways, she has changed his life and the trajectory of his life in immeasurable ways and I don’t say that with any sense of hyperbole whatsoever.

So Bonnie, thank you.

I cannot overstate how grateful we are to you for all you have done for us.

You’ve brought laughter, love and colour into our lives – especially to our brilliant boy Otis.

Seeing how you are together literally makes my heart smile.

Always by each others side, whether that’s for cuddles or mischief.

Even Rosie would approve … albeit through slightly pissed-off eyes.

So thanks for an epic first year and here’s to a shitload of them to come.

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TikTok Isn’t Spying On Us, It Lets Us Spy On Others …
March 16, 2026, 6:15 am
Filed under: 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, Audio Visual, England, Home, Reputation, Social Media

If you worry about being under surveillance from the authorities, you won’t want to read this.

You see a few weeks ago, I was looking at dog videos on Tiktok.

I know … I know … sue me.

Anyway, at one point, I came across a video of a cute little puppy who was going completely nuts at a cardboard box.

Back and forth it would run around the room, jump on and off the sofa and then jump into – and out of – a cardboard box.

It was sweet but something felt a bit weird.

Not weird in a ‘wrong’ way, just weird.

And then I realized what it was.

It had nothing to do with the dog we were watching, but the house the dog was jumping around in … and there was one simple reason for it.

IT WAS OUR HOUSE!

That’s right, the dog in question was owned by the tenants of our house in the UK.

The house we moved into on the very day – much to our bank managers distress – that we decided to move to NZ. We didn’t even bother to unpack everything, haha.

Now we don’t know the tenants in our house.
We don’t know their name, what they look like or what their personal contact info is.
But we do know they have a dog because the agent looking after the house for us, asked us.

So it’s utterly bonkers that the TikTok algorithm decided – out of all the millions of videos of dogs out there – to serve us a clip of their pooch in our house?!!

The good news is the house looked loved, cared for and in tip-top condition … which is all a landlord could ask.

The bad news – for them – is I can now keep an eye on what they’re doing in it.

Cue: Evil Laugh.

We go on about how social media listens to what we say, but that’s the least of our concerns.

The real worry is you can be watched by people you don’t want seeing you.

Guess that means the dodgy movie Sliver, from the 90’s was actually a documentary …

They just didn’t know it yet. [Cue: evil laugh]

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Why New Zealand Lost Its Purity 5 Years Ago Today …

5 years ago today, we landed in Auckland.

FIVE BLOODY YEARS!

That’s the 3rd longest I’ve ever lived in a single place.

NZ was never on the plan, but Colenso was a place I’d always loved and so when they reached out post-R/GA redundancy [which came about by the then ‘shocking’ way I promoted my redundancy, which was covered by The Guardian Newspaper], it was suddenly a real option – made even more desirable after Jill told me [having mentioned they’d got back in touch] that “it would be nice to be closer to my Mum”.

Up until then, I thought we were going back to the US, but not only did I feel I needed to do something for the woman who I’d dragged all over the World after telling her we’d only have be away from Australia for a max of 2 years [Ahem!] both NZ and Colenso offered us things that were much more where we were and what we needed in our lives and work right then – from being cool with letting me continue doing my private projects through to giving us an escape path from Covid-ridden England … that is until it arrived in New Zealand and put us back in bloody lockdown, hahaha.

[That said, our immigration hotel – The Ibis – was in Hamilton, and as people from NZ will know, it was good prep, ha]

That said, it took a lot for us to get there.

First was getting approval to travel to NZ … then there was getting a spot in the quarantine hotel … that had to also align with the insanely limited flights to NZ … which was made harder by needing to find an airline that would also take our cat … plus the endless COVID tests we had to provide to different government departments, up to 24 hours before leaving …

And that’s before we talk about organizing the visas for me, the family and the bloody cat to enter the country … telling our bank that we were off to live on the other side of the planet on the very day we moved into the house we’d just bought in the UK … through to organizing a bloody coach to get us to Heathrow Airport, to ensure there was enough distance between us and the driver so there was no last minute COVID fuck-ups.

[The photo at the top of this post is from us getting on the plane and getting ready to take off]

And while moving across the world during a global pandemic is something I would never, ever recommend – and this is coming from someone who has moved countries into the double digits – we made it and were grateful for all NZ – and Colenso – has done [and does] for us.

That doesn’t mean NZ is perfect …

In many ways, it’s position as a ‘global utopia’ is worthy of a Grand Prix for PR given there’s a whole host of things that are fucked up that people outside of NZ rarely know about, let alone see … from deeply entrenched racism, a youth suicide rate that is proportionally – and continually – one of the highest in the world plus an overall lack of economic investment and youth opportunity to name but a few … however compared to many other places, it’s still a whole lot better in a whole lot of ways.

That said, we won’t be here forever.

Don’t know when that move will happen, but it will.

That we’ve been here 5 years is already incredible to us, given bar China, our usual tenure in a country is about 2-3.

But that’s how good the place is. And Colenso.

So why can I say we will leave at some point in the future?

Well, there’s a bunch of reasons why – of which one is the idea of living in one place till the end of my days fills me with dread – but the fact this place is already the 3rd longest place I’ve ever lived proves NZ is somewhere I regard as very special and why I’ll always see my time here as a chapter of true significance. It’s also why I hope when the day comes for us to leave, the people who matter feel I/we contributed at least as much as we were lucky and grateful to receive from them and the country as a whole.

And let me tell you, I haven’t felt that way about all the countries I’ve lived in, hahaha.

So to everyone in NZ – well, 98.46% of you – and everyone at Colenso …

Thank you.

For all you are and all you have done.

It’s been 5 pretty fucking awesome years. At least speaking for us, ha.

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Let Them Know You Love Them While They’re There …

I watched something recently that made me happy, jealous and sad all at the same time.

I know … I know … they’re the sort of emotional extremes you’d normally associate with a psychopath – but hang in there.

I’ve written a lot about how much I loved my parents. How much I still do.

So many of the decisions and choices I’ve made in my life have been influenced by me wanting them to feel proud of me – even though they’re no longer here and I know very clearly that they were already.

But despite that, I still do stuff that is driven by a desire to thank them for being brilliant parents … to let them know that despite all the moments of ‘stupidity’ that I have embraced throughout my life, the lessons, encouragement and love they continually showed me, were never taken for granted.

Even more so because they never wanted anything from me.

Nor did they ever ask anything of me.

All they desired was that I choose a life of fulfillment over contentment.

It took me a long time to work out what that meant, but once I had worked it out – it fundamentally changed how I lived my life. Giving me clarity at times of confusion or complexity. Hell, it’s one of the main reasons I didn’t go back to the UK when I faced some truly challenging situations while living overseas … because even though I knew they’d love it if I’d gone back [and I’d have loved it too] – I felt I would be disrespecting the gift they’d given me by encouraging me go and explore the world when they were facing such personal hardship through Dad’s illness.

We talked a lot about this when Dad became ill.

I was due to go to Australia when Dad had his stroke. Suddenly I didn’t want to go … I wanted to stay with them and help, which was my new plan right until the moment I told my parents about it.

“NO!” they said.

This was not something they were willing to allow.

Of course they massively appreciated the consideration, but they wanted me to go and live my life rather than – as they saw it – be held back by their situation. Given how hard their situation was, it is fair to say that no one – least of all me – would have blamed them if they had asked me to stay, but they didn’t and I think part of that is because they knew that had I not gone then, I would never have left … and that was an outcome they were never going to allow.

That does not mean life wouldn’t have been good if I had stayed – I loved my parents and I loved Nottingham – but it is also fair to say the life I get to live and enjoy now is nothing like the one I would have experienced if I’d remained. As I’ve written many times before, everything I have in my life today, bar my relationship with my best friend Paul, is because I left the UK.

My family.
My career.
My lifestyle.
My experience.
My experiences.

Every single bit of it … which is why their actions are not only an incredible example of ‘unconditional love’, but also proof of how well my parents knew who I was and – with a bit of encouragement – who I could be.

What a gift.

What generosity.

Which may explain why I felt such a compulsion to repay their love. I don’t mean that just in terms of chasing a life of fulfillment, but in trying to help them make their life easier, happier and – dare I say it – more comfortable.

You see, whatever way you look at it, life wasn’t easy for them. In fact it never was.

Money was always very tight and now, with Dad’s health – and Mum caring for him 24/7 – it had now become even harder.

And while I did what I could, I was not earning the money that would allow me to do what I really wanted for them which was:

Pay off the house and buy Dad a yellow 1970’s, Rolls Royce with white-walled wheels.

In that order.

But hope and reality are separate beasts and even if I could have pulled it off, I know they would have lost their shit over it, because to them, they’d tell me I should be focusing on my future, not theirs.

Which leads me back to the beginning of this post and how I saw a clip that made me feel happy, jealous and sad all at the same time … because I got to watch a kid do this for his parents. Not the Rolls Royce bit, but the house.

I love it.

I love the reaction of the Father.

The slow realisation followed by the cavalcade of emotions …. pride, relief, gratitude and love.

I can only imagine how good the son felt to be able to do that for his folks.

And while my parents did – in the end – get to pay off the family home, it was not because of me but because of an insurance payout they received for a car accident they’d been involved in 5 years prior. And while I wish they hadn’t had to experience the accident to be able to pay off the home, I also know how happy it made my parents – especially my Dad, who knew he was nearing the end of life and so it reassured him Mum would be safe – but even then, I still wish I’d been able to do this for them.

Of course – as my career took off – I was able to repay/spoil/look after my Mum – but while I may still look at that clip with a mixture of emotions, I comfort myself knowing it has nothing really to do with buying your parents a home and everything to do with celebrating a loving, caring family and viewed through that lens … I know my parents knew how grateful I was for all they did and all they were.

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