Find Us At Cannes. In PowerPuff Girl Outfits.*

With a little help from Cake Group, Yahoo's launched Yahoo Scene, a magnificent little destination that aspires to give you your industry conference + nightlife fix in the unhappy event that you can't dance on the kegs yourself.

Beginning next week, I join Steve Hall of Adrants and Ask Wappling of Adland in covering the Cannes Lions for Scene. It's going to be entirely too much awesome; what's more, Ask has already promised the whole internet we'll be coming as PowerPuff Girls. (I will be the angry one, Steve will be bubbly blue, and Ask, of course, will be Blossom.)



If you miss our coverage, you will die of sadness. But if long-form bloggage isn't your style, catch our up-to-the-moment tweets on who's where, who won what and desperate cries for attention: @adland @adrants @luckthelady.

Do not miss! Also, for a feel of the ... feel, catch my wrapup from last year, and this reflection on seaside smoking, and this interview with Richard Gorodecky whom I love more than highly productive anthills.

We are so going to rock your ad shit for seven whole days.

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*Actually, not really unless Ask pushes hard for them.

Hey Adrants, Long Time No See!

This week, I'll be guest-editing for Adrants while Steve Hall gets his jollies at Internet Week in partnership with Yahoo! Scene.

Finally, a place for all my rage and bile!

Actually, it's not all that ragey and biley -- today is my birthday, and age has softened my gnarly griffon's touch -- but if you miss reading my reviews, tune in. Adrants is still the best place to get your ad fix, be yours shock-factor, gags, tits or beauty. It feels good to be back.

AdVerve Episode 42: Get Rich Blogging!

Play the show now.

What makes a good ad writer, or for that matter a good ad creative? David Burn of AdPulp fame joins us for riffs on why we’re all broke bloggers. That’s okay, we still have our pride (RIGHT?). Speaking of rig... writing, we ponder why good writin’ is so hard to find and why the Huff Post sucks.

Next stop: Detroit as we jump on car ads. Hey, don’t blame us—they came up with them. Then we question what it takes to sell out these days. Free pizza? $5 million dollars? A hug? Choices, choices.

That’s a lot of excitement for one show—you may need a nap.

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Liked Me on Adrants? You'll Love Me on Culture Buzz.

(Though to be fair, the above is probably just a gross presumption on my part.)

Seriously though. As of last week, I'm posting a coupla cool campaigns a day for Culture Buzz, the equal-opportunity-ad-loving arm of agency Vanksen. Check it out, throw feedback our way, and -- better yet -- send me shit! Yeah, PR people, you can do that again. Here's where:

angela [dot] natividad [at] gmail [dot] com.

More fun-tastic employment news in the coming hours. (*does a wicked little dance*)

...and Then I Realized I Was Very, Very Sick.

Me: Dude, that's a catchy track. What ad are you watching?

Chelsi: It is not an ad, it is music.

Me: Because it kinda sounds like...

Chelsi: IT'S JUST MUSIC.

One Reason Why Men Always Leave Me

So me and Benj are having "us" time in the living room, which means he's sitting in a red armchair doing guitar scales and I'm Adranting on the couch across the way.

Benj stops playing. He looks up and goes, "Listen to this scale. Does it sound like a legitimate guitar lesson?"

"Sure," I say.

"It's hard. These are so basic. I can hardly do them anymore."

"Always good to go back to basics." (I am scanning a press release for agency info. I am wondering why Dentsu is so twisted. I am debating if I should cross-reference goatse. You can never have enough goatse.)

"You know ... my technique was never quite right. I could never play like Paco."

"Practice makes..." I start to say, but then he interrupts by doing something unexpected.

I look up and he's WALKING TOWARD ME. With his guitar.

"I want to show you what I mean," he persists. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Well ... working. But I'm listening."

He kneels down and starts to strum. I can't help it -- I cast a fast split-second glance back at my screen and he catches me in action.

"You're not paying attention. What are you doing?" He leans in. "What IS that?"

Long pause. Nothing for it but to explain.

"I'm screenshotting rhino shit."

He doesn't even ask why. Instead he gives me an elongated I-hate-what-you-do-for-a-living stare and goes back to his big red chair.