Bad Monkey has failed to lead me astray

After 17 editions of Monkey Magazine, I fear I’m wearying already.

Signed up on a classic subscriber offer email from Maxim Magazine, I found myself initially surprised by Monkey’s mix of lurid sex, Jackass-inspired nonsense and assorted man-mag standards.

Initially, I was taken by the technology too. Oh look, you click the corner and the pages turn. Cool. And there are nearly naked women. Cool. And some quite cool stuff. Cool. But after a while, well, it’s just not so cool, is it?

Don’t get me wrong, they can keep sending me it and I’ll flick through the photographs and fancy tricks. I’ll chortle smugly when this week’s model (they call her Natasha but she looks like Elsie) writhes uncomfortably in her mum and dad’s bedroom. But I have a feeling that the Monkey magic is already wearing off.

Now I find the question perplexing me most is not whether this week’s winner will be Jennifer, Alison, Philipa or Sue but ‘why are they going to all that trouble to put it together and why are they sending it to me in the first place?’

The handful of ‘ads’ and product placements hardly seem to justify the exercise and, if the truth be told, with that much girly flesh on show you’d be hard pushed to get me to even notice the advertising.

Now before you say, ‘hey, Al, at 44 you’re hardly the target demographic’ I’ll point out that a younger man may be even more distracted than me.

But that’s not the point. If the Lad’s Mag is on its last legs and Monkey’s the future, then it could be game over before it’s really started. Certainly, my attention span has already been severely tested. Next!

What's the difference?

Every day I bounce about 20 emails trying to sell me viagra. 'How can they be so stupid?' I ask, every time another one arrives. But then, they're just doing good old fashioned advertising, aren't they? It's always been invasive and largely unwanted.

So what's the difference?

The spammers drive you nuts. I DON'T WANT YOUR VIAGRA! I don't need a degree from your phoney university and, no, I'm not going to log my bank details into your phishy looking website because I know it's a scam.

Come to think of it, I don't want to see that annoying ad with the AA Team crammed into the back seat of the car. Never again would be too soon and bang in the middle of my favourite programme is really just too annoying. It's almost as annoying as the Foster's Twist ad. It's up there with the two old boys selling Vauxhalls and all the other wasted half minutes until we get back to the interesting stuff. 

And before you leap to their defence, let's note carefully that the on-demand programming which is surely indicative of how all TV will be in the future, has the ads mercifully removed. 'What would be the point of leaving them in?' says my 15 year old kid, 'everyone would fast-forward them out.'

So the difference is clear. The production values may be higher but the technique's much the same. Guinness classic or email drug peddler, it's just a rude interuption that someone hopes will leave a lasting impression on a reluctant viewer. Sometimes, somewhere, somebody buys. Somehow that seems to be enough.

Whose customer am I anyway?

A few weeks ago I became a Virgin Media customer. Not because I wanted to, I was acquired. I didn't volunteer. Now I'm caught in the crossfire of a PR war.

It's tedious, isn't it? I used to have a pension plan that changed hands three times before I told the final incumbent that I didn't like the cut of their jib. I used to be a Bank of Scotland customer before it became HBoS with the dreaded H being very much the boss. And now, Sir Richard Branson is dropping me a line to tell me all about Sky's dirty tactics and how his organisation will fight back against Mr Murdoch's attempts to force everyone onto his network. 

Now I was already annoyed. I don't like being acquired at the best of times. I'm already pissed off that I've been herded into an economy of scale without being writted to by be-jumpered billionaires bemoaning the dirty tactics of their rivals. 

Richard, I don't want to know. 

Just get something decent on the telly and we'll all be happy.