The Girl from Winnipeg.

Big night tonight. Rachel Mara is showcasing her Spring ’09 line with a grand fashion show at the Moule store on Everett. It’s an exclusive event (for Moule & Rachel Mara super fans only), replete with music, models, cocktails and a poetry slam from Steve. We’re really excited for Rach—her clothes just seem to get hotter and hotter each season. In case you’re wondering, I am invited to the show and I am dressed to the nines right now. I don't own many clothes, but what I do own is pretty god damn impressive.

Radio Shack is Awesome.

Did ya’ll hear about the Radio Shack employee (above) who lost his shit the other day and drilled a customer in the mouth? At first I thought it was an Onion prank; but then I realized I was reading the New York Times. It’s debatable whether this news item lives up to the promise, All the news that’s fit to print. What’s not debatable is that this employee is a legend and should be promoted immediately. For those of us who have toiled in the service industry most of our lives, today is a proud day. As I learned many years ago while delivering food to rich, affected college students, the customer is not always right. In fact, they’re almost always wrong. And contrary to public opinion, when you are wrong AND have lots of attitude you shouldn’t be surprised when Darrell the regional manager dots your eye with a left uppercut.

Lee Luhr Just Got Played.

I’ve been lucky to learn from the best. And in my humble opinion, no one in this business can hold a candle to Lee Davis and Dave Luhr (which is Lee Luhr and Dave Davis mixed up). Many years ago, when I was part of the big-agency business, these two had no rivals. And I learned a ton from them (in spite of my strategic upbringing). But after trading tricks-of-the-trade via email with these two “legends”, it’s pretty clear that today they’re not on my level. I won’t divulge the details of our conversation, but let’s just say that Lee Luhr came across as big, brawny and boisterous. And in contrast, I performed like a goddamn cheetah. One thing Lee Luhr hasn’t learned is that, in this new world, there’s no need to collaborate or play nice. What’s needed is an account man who will crack heads, spill blood and then freelance someone to pick it up.

Swine Flu Sounds Bad.

I don’t know much about pandemics or influenzas. But I know pigs. And I’m here to tell you, if they weren't so damn tasty pigs would easily be the most vile animal on the planet. Two things you should consider while waiting for your Egg McMuffin: (1) pigs eat everything that crosses their path, from hairbrushes to feces to condoms. I know this from personal experience; (2) pigs carry fungi on their skin that’s so large it must be hacked off with a baseball bat; (3) pigs once ate the face off a farmer in my hometown after he collapsed in the pen from a massive heart attack. Good lord, I have to stop. I’m starting to get a fever.

86 Mr. French.

The partners decided yesterday, by a vote of 3-0, to terminate our relationship with Mr. French’s Coffee. On the heels of an ugly incident in which Mr. French upbraided Steve for ordering “too much f@#*ing coffee”, we had no choice but to sever ties. No one humiliates us Mutts in public (privately, it’s quite alright). And more importantly how dare he mock us, his most loyal customers, for trying to order coffee…in a coffee shop! Obviously Mr. French is working through some issues. And this isn’t the first time he’s come unglued in the midst of a mildly stressful order. That being said, I’d encourage you to swing by Mr. French’s (at least once) not to sample the coffee, but simply to watch the man melt down. It’s quite a sight.

Nick + Mike = FUN

We like to have fun at Mutt. It’s an important part of our business plan. In fact, fun is so important here at Mutt that we often make it mandatory. To prove we're serious, and to let Mikael know what's been going on around here, I've included a few pictures of Mike and Nick frolicking about the den on a skateboard.


Here's Nick helping Mike get on the skateboard (which, btw, was inches off the ground).


Here’s Nick moving Mike down the line.


Here’s Nick continuing to hold onto Mike (minutes after Mike asked him to stop).

Poster for a Poster.

So we have an exciting new offer for everyone out there in Mutt Land. This morning we discovered a surplus of 52 Mutt concert posters (see above). For those who missed our Rainy Season ’09 Tour, these bad boys were the talk of the town. And now, beloved mutts, they can be yours for…....a small cost. As we’ve reiterated numerous times in this blog, nothing in life or advertising is free (except for Mutt's time and services). So here’s the hook: if you create your own poster and mail or drop it off at the address below, we will in turn mail you a free Mutt tour poster (no strings attached). Thanks for playing. And please know, if/when you send us your masterpiece we will do everything in our goddamn power to make you famous.

Please send posters to: Mutt Industries, 215 SE Morrison, Suite #2004, Portland, OR 97214

Jelly for Lunch?

Jelly Jawbone Helm stopped by the den today for lunch. Pounded a burrito right in front of my face; and left some salsa scraps on my desk. I would have given my left ear lobe for a bite of that burrito. If Jelly weren’t so nice (and big), I would have gotten Tri-State Area on him for flaunting that meat pie in my grill. Anyhoo, no surprise here but it sounds as though Jelly is up to his eyeballs in awesome projects. The dude is legit. And now he’s also sporting a really cool beard. At one point in the conversation, I was half-hoping he’d break into song or poetry or spoken word or tongues or…you get the point.

I Want This Real Bad.

We at Mutt don't normally endorse baby products, mostly because we have no expertise in this field and, more importantly, because it's not very lucrative. But I just came across something that makes the Snuggie look boring and unsafe. Something that, in the right hands, could net an ocean of dough. Brethren, I give you the Woombie. Perhaps the most courageous and timely innovation in the 21st Century.

Portland Smiles.

Social scientists recently labeled Portland the “most depressed” city in America. I can’t recall the criteria used in this study. But I can say that, based on today, these geniuses might want to rethink their results. For those of you who have the misfortune of not being in Portland right now, the sun is high in the sky, the Weinhard's is flowing and Mt. Hood is lording over our city the way Raquel Welch used to lord over my adolescent room. Now that’s what I call science.

My Mom Thinks She's Tough.

In case you’re wondering, an average day for my mom involves rising at the crack of dawn, working her tail off on the farm, pumping weights in the afternoon and preparing a hearty dinner of steak and eggs in the evening. It also involves driving a Ford pick-up truck. My mom is usually pretty modest about her rugged life, but lately she seems to have lost her way. I can’t think of anything in particular that she’s said or done. It’s more of a feeling I’m getting. You know, like she thinks she’s tougher than me and/or that the Midwest is tougher than the Pac Northwest. I was pretty fired up about it this weekend. So instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, I got up at 5 am this morning and destroyed my mind and body at yoga class. Why do I do these things? Because can’t nobody stop me or the Pac Northwest. What up Ma?

A Lonely Hairball in Cancun.

What happens when you blend a painted rock with a perfectly shaped hairball? You get rest and relaxation, that’s what. We here at Mutt can’t take credit for this modern marvel. That belongs to Mona (hair), our neighbor Fabian (painted rock) and God (for bringing it all together). All we can do, friends, is remain humble in the face of such exquisite, troubling beauty.

Busy, busy, busy.

To ensure that we’re being productive, Steve asked that I provide a summary of our week. So here it goes: on Monday I removed a thorn from my middle finger. The injury occurred during a grueling hike last weekend. Little thorny bastard burrowed himself deep in my digit, and then couldn’t get out. Fortunately my white blood cells weren’t having it, and they took said thorn to task. Turned my finger greener than a major league infield. Not to worry though…my olive skin returned within minutes. Let’s see, what else…I got a haircut this afternoon (and now I look like a little boy with lots of gray hair). Also watched Paige clean the refrigerator. I know, I know...I was supposed to do that three months ago. But she just beat me to the punch today, plain and simple. Okay, that’s about it Steve…you feeling better now?

Mike and Steve Who?

Yikes. Was on my way to the printer when I saw this on Paige's screen. I realize I'm broaching all sorts of confidentiality laws by rummaging through Employee #1's private mail. But this one was too juicy not to share. Enlarge and enjoy.

Calling All Weirdoes.

So it’s that time of the year, when big, bad agencies start rummaging the forest in search of young, ambitious interns. We too are in the process of recruiting interns. Peep the poster above—it’s going out to select schools in the hope of luring the next Steve Luker or Mike McCommon (inset long awkward laugh here). Point is, we’re looking for someone who loves to create, debate and drink beer/wine/vodka (preferably in that order). Let me forewarn you—this will be the most challenging internship of your life. If you’re interested and/or know of anyone who fits the bill, please contact Paige Thomas at paige@muttindustries.com. Good day.

Please Stop Talking.

As a blogger and/or digital specialist, it’s important that I act important. I was reminded of this fact today after reading a couple bizarrely self-important blogs (and watching a nauseatingly arrogant speech from Ted). Forgive my hostility, but for whatever reason it feels as though the bad guys are winning today. You know, the overrated, narcissistic tools who, in the course of blathering incessantly about nothing, lull their audience into thinking they might know a thing or two. I’ll tell you right now, I don’t know much. But I do know a big fat phony when I see one. Whew, now that I got that off my chest I feel gr-r-reat!!

Japanese Bird Cooking Spaghetti.

This picture describes how I'm feeling right now. A little full from lunch, but excited about having some drinks tonight. Also portends the marathon I intend to run in six months. How bout the rest of you? How does this picture make you feel? Hi Matt Murphy.

A Mutt of One.

Weird day. Mike and Steve are in Seattle today covering the Teague shoot. Which means that Paige, Nick and myself are kicking it here in the den, sans S&M. Not sure how I feel about them being gone. On the one hand, I miss their clever jokes and malicious gossip. On the other hand, not having them here has allowed me to flex my muscles a bit. Just this morning I had to remind Nick and Paige who's in charge. I think it's fair to say that Paige (aka, Employee #1) won't be challenging my authority any time soon. As an ambitious account man once told me, "Respect is not earned...it's mandated."

No Makeup Needed.

Interview magazine stopped by the den this morning. Apparently they want to give me an award. That’s their team of photographers up there trying to capture my essence. Good luck with that. Sort of like trying to cage a wild tiger. Needless to say, Mike and Steve are super jealous right now. But like I said, don’t hate...I’m just doing my job. Anyway, gotta get back to the bright lights.

Spring Cleaning.

Yesterday morning I rolled into work in my $50,000 Isuzu and found this gem lying in the street. Most people would have turned a blind eye or, worse yet, kicked this bad boy into a dumpster. But not me, not Mutt. Ours is a green company; a creative collective hellbent on making the world a better, safer, cleaner place. With this in mind, I set about vacuuming the street while Steve removed rubbish from the sidewalk. Mike did not partake, but I know he would have approved. Remember Mutts, "Cleanliness is next to godliness", an important lesson to consider on this Good Friday.

Meet the Paciugos.

Cristiana's masterpiece.


Mutt and Frank gettin busy.


Diego is the Man.


Ciao...grande or piccolo?


Ugo crushing me in an argument.

PS--Unfortunately we have no pictures of our client Nancy. You should know that, in addition to being very smart and athletic, Nancy is also a professional stalker of misunderstood quarterbacks named Phillip.

Mutt + Paciugo = LOVE

I don’t want to gush too hard, lest I make our other partner jealous (hi Teague). But we just returned from a wonderful trip to Dallas; and I must say, we’re in love with Paciugo. Though we were only in Big D for 36 hours, the folks at Paciugo showered us with fountains of love (and gelato). We’ve worked with some passionate clients in our time, but none as genuine and kind as our new friends from Paciugo. We are literally chomping at the bit to tell their story, and counting our blessings for the opportunity to work with such nice people.

Sometimes words are meaningless...

Observations from Flight #1282.

1. The most common passenger on a plane is a crying baby.
2. Steve sleeps like a princess.
3. Male flight attendants often wear goatees.
4. Our flight attendant, Corey, has a very unsightly goatee.
5. My favorite songs sound even better when flying.
6. The guy turned around in his seat the whole flight needs to be beaten when we land.
7. It's time to replace beverage carts with Mexican taco vendors.
8. Mike looks uncomfortable without a drink in his hand.
9. Printed shirts with sunsets and cacti are so bad they’re good.
10. Weezer is awesome.

Opening Day...Yipee.

There was a time, several decades ago, when my sports teams used to dominate. Sadly, this is no longer the case. Today things are so bad that I've effectively traded sports for more compelling competitions like Family Feud. Honestly, I would rather invest my emotions in an anonymous, potentially fake family than suffer through another dismal season by the Reds. At least I have a 50% chance of winning. For now I'll just have to settle for the shenanigans of Mr. Red. He is easily the dumbest, least athletic mascot in all of sports. What in God's name did I do to deserve this?

All the news that's fit to print.

Mutt didn’t exactly win Agency of the Year this morning. But we did take a long step towards cementing our legacy. Pick up a copy of yesterday’s New York Times, scroll down to Stuart Elliot’s column (under Miscellany), apply your bifocals and set about reading the one sentence announcement of our opening! Now this may not be as "big time" as some of us would like. But as my mom noted, “It’s better to have a baby blurb than no blurb at all.”

Paging Sully Sullenberger.

Big day tomorrow. Mutt is taking its first official business trip outside of the Pac Northwest. Which means that yours truly will be boarding a plane for the first time in four months. This is important because, for those who don't know me, I would rather wrestle a hungry lion than fly in a plane. At Wieden my aerophobia was tolerable, if only because I was forced to fly four goddamn times a week. But now, after months of blissful terra firma, it seems as though my irrational fears have retrenched (see horrific nightmare last night). In the meantime, I’ve included a video that adequately describes what I’ll be thinking between the hours of 6 and 9 tomorrow morning. Wish me luck.

Double Dutch This.

See that? It’s the new me. The I’ve-replaced-cigarettes-with-jumping-rope me. From now on, anytime Paige asks me to partake in a ciggie I’m going to say, “Thanks but no thanks Paige. I don’t smoke, but I do jump rope.” My new approach serves several purposes. One, it sends a message to our team that exercise is important. Two, it makes Paige look like a jackass. And three, it helps tighten my abs. As I’ve mentioned countless times in this blog, when you look good you feel good. And when you feel good, you advertise good (I realize that’s not grammatically correct, Mom).

Nick the Mutt.

I’m proud to announce the birth of our latest Mutt, Nick. We discovered Nick a few weeks ago running sprints under the Morrison Bridge. When Steve asked him what the hell he was doing, Nick hollered across the street “get a real job doughboy”. Seeing as no one talks to Steve like that, we offered Nick a job on the spot. Excluding his drinking problem, things seem to be going real well with Nick.

I Don't Trust Wieden.

In spite of its provincial reputation, Portland is a rather large city. Certainly large enough for two big-time ad agencies like Wieden and Mutt (don’t laugh) to co-exist peaceably. But today, tensions are running high here at Mutt. I’ve just learned from my people that Wieden is holding their notorious Founder’s Day party right outside our humble studio. Forgive me for being paranoid, but that’s a little weird. To assure our safety, we’ve beefed up security for the evening (from 1 to 2) and tucked away all of our important documents, creative briefs and posters. In this business, one never knows.

Lukerwood.

Big news Mutt mates…I’m proud to announce that our very own Steve Luker is going to be a star. Yesterday while watching Aaron Katz’s latest movie being shot outside of Montage, Steve was approached by a senior producer and offered a role. It’s not exactly the lead, but there seems to be enough juice for Steve to become famous (or infamous, depending on his performance). Details are still fuzzy, but the character is named Jack Wheeler, a coiffed, old school con man who gets punked by a couple Millenial hipsters. Think Goodfellas meets Juno, except the Goodfella gets his ass kicked. Wish Steve luck…he’s gonna need it!