When I was casting about for something to do after university, I went so far as to get an interview with the marketing department at Rowntree - not yet taken over by the evil Nestle, but good Quaker chocolateers (what is it about sober Quakers and frivolous chocolate, btw?). I admired the cleverness of their ads – those Kit Kat pandas! – but there was something about my jib they didn’t like the cut of, so the advertising industry never got the benefit of my quibbling compulsion. Yoko Ono never got the phone call asking if she’d like to head up a rival company to Linda McCartney’s, boosting the profile of legumes with such slogans as “Peas Please Me” and “Give Peas a Chance”. There never was a slimming range that enticed customers with “Good Food that Won’t Go to Waist!”; no one modelled underwear from “Smart Arse” or bought their furniture at "Sofa So Good"; and so on and on, to a bad case of ad nauseam (as with all cases of true punorrhea, the groanier it gets the more I seem to like it).
These days, Google is usually beforehand with me. Only a few months ago I was planning a chain of Japanese food outlets called Nippon Tuck, but a quick internet search showed that it already exists. There’s nothing new under the rising sun, I guess.