Over the weekend, city spas were booked to the gills with ad execs getting deep tissue neck massages in preparation for this weeks' self-fellating proceedings: Grab your cocks and Paul Smith socks! It's Advertising Week 2006!

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Me, I will be attending zero events, because I can't stand to LOOK at other ad guys, forget talking to them.
But once again this year, everybody's invited to vote for their favorite icons (from a group that includes the racist Aunt Je-fucking-mima but no Alarmo!, and favorite slogans (including Continental's awful "Work Hard. Fly Right." No, YOU work hard and YOU fly right, Dad.)

Starting tomorrow, each day begins with the Advertising Women of New York Breakfast at the New York Times auditorium; you know, to get it the hell out of the way. Because the good old boys barely tolerate dames, in addition to flat out hating hiring negroes .

The one event that I wouldn't mind attending is Thursday's interview with the loosely-wrapped billionaire Mark Cuban — if only to wear a Miami Heat jersey and Shaq attack him with trash talk about his loser Dallas Mavericks.

Paging through the official guide, I did discover two new supercool buzz phrases to throw at the lady account execs—The Brand Siren (a new breed of SUPER-influencers) and Focalysts (more INTENSE than analysts).

But really, this week is about one thing (other than douchery, of course): It's the Madison Ave. Advertising Walk of Fame on Friday from 3-5pm. Come to midtown and loudly quack Aflac! at Tony the Tiger. Tell the Gecko to "nevermind the bollocks" in your worst English accent, and take bites of fabric out of the M&Ms.

As Mayor Bloomberg said in his welcome letter in the guide: "Advertising embodies the core attributes of New York City including creativity, commitment and compassion..."

Also crapulence, cronyism, and carloads of misspent cash.

Copyranter has been an NYC advertising copywriter for 14 years. He gets paid a ridiculous amount of money to be stupid.