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Showing posts with label the apprentice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the apprentice. Show all posts

Thursday, 28 May 2009

If you leave 8 monkeys

In an edit suite long enough, they will eventually cut together the absolute truth about anyone twat enough to


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'audition' for the Apprentice

Thursday, 14 May 2009

I know I've seen Debra somewhere before...


Oh yeah. Watch out for those umbrellas Margaret...

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Wednesday, 13 May 2009

Moner Lisa


So Mona's out...

Not that it makes much difference, they should all be fired simultaneously in episode one and then we get to spend the remainder of the series watching Margaret and Nick snogging and feeling.

But folks, let's not forget that this is our hard earned tax-money paying for this crap. Let's re-cap:

Suralan is looking for a new recruit for his mega-empire - a future captain of industry...so far, so clear. We all need future captains of industry, right? So this is the show where we get to see the finest of the fine slug it out to win such a coveted, socially responsible position yeah? We are witnessing tomorrow's leaders showing us how they will guide us through the thorny, mine-laden globalised future, uhuh? We get to sit on our worn IKEA sofas and stare at these 'gifted' leaders showing us their superior skills, dig?

But let's look a little closer: This evening's task asked the groups to demonstrate their marketing skills by 're branding' Margate.

Team Ignite chose the family angle. Empire went for the gays amongst us. This was Empire's poster...

And they were bemused when they lost.

And we are bemused we are in the midst of a reccesion.

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Saturday, 9 May 2009

Preposterously over-confident Apprentice moment #11234




Sexy Lorraine, selling the flabbergastingly stupid ‘cat box’ (“I throw away cardboard boxes every day”, small pet-shop owner – “but this one’s a spitfire”, juicy Lorraine) to a single, independent hardware store on the edge of Liverpool: When asked how many units she’d hope they might take she, and without a trace of irony, retorted –

“5000”.

A quick calculation by the owner – “So you think we’d shift 400 of these a week…through this single store?” – “Yes”, a sincere, tell me your problems, gorgeous Lorraine, “yes, I believe you could easily shift 400 a week”.

Cue jaw hitting table, hand banging head involuntarily…

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Pants man goes

Thank the Gods of reality for that one. So, Phillip, aka ‘the missing link’ gets the boot. It couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke. Having spent 7 weeks bullying, snideing, moaning and generally wasting his obsessively won 15 minutes, it all came down to one thing: Suralan: “Phillip, your attitude won’t sit in my organisation”. Phillip, gracious to the end, huffed out of the boardroom muttering ‘joke’. No shit Phil, you are – and now everyone that you meet back at the pokey estate agents, somewhere far away in the North East, will think so too – which means you’ll have to throw in more extras, more ‘gold look’ door handles, more white appliances, to bag a sale. Ha bloody ha.


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Who is this guy?

WTF? Scholarship to Sandhurst? Give me a break. Did you go mate? No? Oh right, chose to humilate yourself on national TV instead. Not sure the army missed out, badger faced tit.



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