Aliens, the Sims and the DMAâs Future writersâ labs

I apologise to the loved ones I have hurt as a result of my addiction to The Sims and the Kim Kardashian: Hollywood app.

My frustrations with unemployment left me vulnerable. In Kim’s world I was an A-lister, and people knew my name. No sim could urinate without my divine authority.

Nick, I’m sorry for spending the gas money on a virtual bikini.

But things are on the up. My sims are all dead. Even Bim Dumdumzigl – you know, the one with the Turkey hat?

I got a job. I’m doing aerial hoop, and a copywriting course. We got to look at onions and talk about our feelings. A man from inside the internet spoke to us. And we’re going to reach a million people with something we write [NOT THIS!!!!!!!].

I’ve made a lot of friends. One of them is not imaginary.

Deep in my heart I know there is no money in scratch cards, and little in writing. Copywriting is going the way of a *clever metaphor about dinosaurs*. I must be with the times. I must look to the future and retort that time is linear, for I am no Stephen Hawking.

I’ve made a vow to end simlish conversations and create human ones in my line of work. It’s all about storytelling muthacluckaz! Copywriting ain’t gonna be a billboard time. It’s gonna be staging an alien hoax for Monster Munch.

The DMA’s Future writers’ labs helped me with a 5-step programme. I am cured. You, dear reader, can be too. So check it the CLUCK out!