About Me

Hi, my name is Hans Mackenzie Main. I write satire and copy for clients in the advertising and publishing industries. My work sells products and entertains several tens of people every day. To tap into the power of words, contact me today for a FREE quote.

Skills

I am highly trained. My skill set includes, but is not limited to, people skills, typing skills, ideation and in-office skills such as meeting attendance. Product of the AAA prep school for highly skilled writers. I read briefs in full. I sit upright at my desk. I don’t jump up on clients. I let self out. I have a Moleskin notebook that helps me to project an air of proficiency. It’s the most expensive notebook I’ve ever bought, and may be the last. Shorthand still in development; penmanship: okay. My IT skills are suspect and I will require assistance with new email log in, browser settings, cookies etc. etc. Coffee machine capability: exemplary.

Experience

I’ve been in operation for 10 years. I’m web savvy and can move about the office at a reasonable pace, stopping only for polite conversation and to enquire about jobs currently running. I smile a lot. Great capacity for small talk should there be time for it. I have a great “feel” for current events and read the paper often. I can sit in a meeting for one hour. Longer if there are croissants or buttered scones. I’m in top shape – bants when not at the office - and will occasionally take the stairs. Small talk on the stairs will probably not happen.

Turnaround Times

I turn around quickly both as a writer and a human being. Writing, I’m able to turn around work in two hours if required. I work early mornings, which means, if you send me a brief by COB (close of business), I should be able to send the work the following day. Again, if it’s required. As for hours I can receive briefs, I’m open 24/7 throughout the year even on Christmas Day and all other major holidays - religious or otherwise.

Skype

I am Skype-enabled and have extensive knowledge of ceilings and wall art in offices both local and abroad. My Skype name is a mouthful at present for I have not had the time to figure out how to change it. It’s live:4e40a964f8b40492. And although it says ‘live’, I’m not live all the time. Email me and let’s set up a convenient time to Skype and make sure we’re on the same page.

Boardrooms

I also enjoy meetting in boardrooms. I believe a boardroom is an important space where important decisions get made. Deciding Thursday is the new Casual Day next to the water cooler simply does not have the same gravitas as doing so in the boardroom. The more glass your boardroom has the more cutting edge your company appears to be. A glass table is non-negotiable. Glass walls are nice to have. Glass chairs, well, that’s the future isn’t it? Boardrooms are rectangular, never triangular and most definitely not round. The only round spaces of importance involving tables are found at the United Nations headquarters and around the Knights of the, you guessed it, Round Table. The President of the United States does have a round office but you’ll notice even he has to talk over a rectangular desk. Too much wood in your boardroom makes you come across as old, environmentally angry and frankly a little up your own ass. Add gold to the foyer and you’re basically Donald Trump with less money. A boardroom is a place of business where no one should laugh for more than 5 seconds; anything in polystyrene - be it human, beverage or food - is frowned upon; only one person should talk at a time. Experience has taught me not to fidget, stare or whistle in a boardroom. Quipping, “Nice jugs” when the receptionist walks in carrying two jugs of orange juice is also not ideal. Whenever I walk into a boardroom, I like to note where my superior takes a seat. The client will invariably take position opposite him, which means I must sit two positions down from my superior so as to avoid direct fire from the client, but at the same time not appear to be unwilling to engage. Art in a boardroom is to be appreciated from a distance. Stroking the art - or knocking it to the ground sliding against the wall trying to avoid physical contact – is not only unnecessary, but disruptive and potentially embarrassing. When the PowerPoint in the boardroom does not work, do NOT under any circumstance stand up to try and fix it yourself. Call someone from IT. Make a prompt apology for the delay and the IT guy who, no doubt, will appear wearing jeans and tekkies and commence with small talk. Depending on the quality of your IT guy, you could be talking for anything from 5 to 20 minutes. If you see a sign outside a boardroom with the words ‘MEETING IN SESSION’, it means the boardroom is booked out and occupied. If you see NO sign outside a cutting edge boardroom it’s easy to look through the glass walls to see it’s booked out and occupied. Any boardroom occupied for longer than the allotted time is playing host to a discussion of such high importance that schedules become redundant. A boardroom in this state must be left alone. Any disruption subtracts precious seconds from the discussion, adding countless minutes to the time you are going to spend outside waitting. Once inside, people often suffer adverse reactions to boardrooms ranging from turning red to being unable to speak to falling asleep without intending to do so. In extreme cases, an individual not getting enough eye contact in a boardroom can drift off into their own thoughts for several minutes only returning to the boardroom when the speaker asks, “Garth, are you with us?” The victim will answer “yes” but the boardroom will know he or she means “no”. Anyone turning red in a boardroom not speaking or being spoken to is suffering an allergic reaction to nuts found in muffins found in boardrooms. This is a physiological response to the nuts and can not be directly attributed to the boardroom. It’s probably a good idea to evacuate the boardroom and call in emergency services at this point. Unlike most office spaces, boardrooms don’t have emergency evacuation plans. The general consensus is to go with the flow: board members first, executive committee members second, chief executive officers third and so on. Managing directors are required to switch off the lights. Managing members must please remember to put a dustbin outside the door to let everyone know the boardroom has, indeed, been evacuated. Cuting edge boardrooms obviously do not need the dustbin. It’s easy to see through the glass walls someone inside is suffering an acute allergic reaction to nuts found in muffins found in boardrooms.

Parties

A party is the last thing on my mind. In fact, I think freelancers who have the time to party misunderstood the ‘free’ part of their job titles, and are missing out on the opportunity to make cash. Freelancers who don’t party are of immense value to your business. Here’s why:

Performance

Pay close attention to a freelancer on-site and you’ll notice a specimen operating at the very peak of his or her powers, wholly detached from his or her environment in a display of focused disassociation found in sociopathic serial killers. Small talk decreases in size to be virtually non-existent, which leaves little room for office gossip and even less room to slander you, the boss. Shrouded in silence, the freelancer can complete a day’s work in the same time it takes to describe how you, the boss, have zero compassion, below-par dress sense and a laughable Instagram account.

Savings on Coffee

Any freelancer worth his salt fills his bloodstream with superior-quality caffeine before he sets foot out of the house. Roaming the office with pupils sufficiently dilated, the freelancer can go up to five hours without having to dig into the agency’s, admittedly, B-grade stash. Including water, milk, sugar, electricity, dishwashing liquid and man hours wasted waiting for the kettle to boil, the potential savings for your agency could run into the tens of hundreds of rands.

Less Talk of A Raise

The day a freelancer walks into your office to demand a raise chances are you have kept him or her on for too long which gave him or her the impression that he or she is now a full-time employee. Such behaviour by a freelancer is a gross violation of a number of sections of the freelancer’s code and brings into question the mental capacity of an individual clearly unable to process the information contained in a boilerplate service level agreement. There’s no point engaging. Simply get HR on board and escort the freelancer out of the building.

Space on the Team Photo

Freelancers are not into team building, which is why they’re freelancing. This “outsider” attitude might not appear beneficial on the surface, but look a little deeper and you’ll discover a worker irrationally invested in work because work is the only thing that stands between a freelancer and a life on the streets spellchecking the cardboard posters of his or her “new friends” freelancing at robots across the city. Cut the freelancer some slack and allow him or her to finish the job while the rest of the office fool around. Freelancers might not be part of the family, but like well-paid mercenaries they’ll keep their heads down to deliver work of the highest standard to ensure they’re called back to freelance another (half) day.

Emailing

The universally accepted way to start a formal email is “Hi”. “Hi” is the standard; the norm. Not “Hey” or “Hey there” or “Hiya”. Just “Hi”. After a solid “Hi” you can continue and sound as formal as you like. Try to wrap things up in 100 words or less and finish off with a widely accepted and often insincere, “Regards, so and so”. Your regards can be “best” or “kind”. I prefer “Best regards” over “Kind regards” and just a simple “Regards” over the lot. Under no circumstances should an emoticon come into play. Regards should end after the fourth email. When you’ve emailed someone and they reply and you reply and they reply you have established what’s known as a rapport. Regards now become redundant and should be avoided. Unless of course it’s part of your email signature in which case it’s redundant anyway. In extreme cases even “Hi” falls away and the emailing takes the form of a casual conversation. Sentences get sent back and forth with little or no punctuation. One word emails start to appear: “thanks” “ok” “excellent”. This is where you want to be. It’s the digital equivalent of having a drink with your colleagues and clients on a Friday afternoon. Everyone chills a bit and conversation becomes easier. Just like with Friday afternoon drinks though, you want to avoid using swear words and getting too personal. “What are you up to tonight?” and “That’s fucking great” are frowned upon.

The Bank

A while ago I emailed Absa bank to lodge a friendly complaint about birds in their (bank) branches. The matter was referred to customer service manager Magrietjie Dreyer (not her real name) who addressed the issues head on with a pr ompt reply and apology. Apparently, the white Cockatoo has been a problem in the branch for a while.

TO: ABSA

Hi Magrietjie Due to circumstances beyond my control I had to head down to your physical address to make a deposit recently. Having not been out for a while I was looking forward to the outing. Regrettably, it was an awkward experience. As I came through the revolving doors, immediately to my left, there was a man with not one, but tw o birds on his shoulders. On his hand was another one. All three birds were alive. The two on his back could have been Cockatoos or fancy Cockatiels; the one on his hand was definitely a budgie. Walking a wide circle around the freak I made my way to a marble table where I filled out a deposit slip. After this I headed t o the queue where I took position facing a guy named Gar y and with my back to someone named Larry (I knew their names were Gary and Larry because they greeted each other as such and s tarted conversing about balustrades and building practices and things straight "through" me like I wasn't even there. Gary kept nodding his head but I could tell by the look on his face he didn't agree with what Larry had to say). Eventually I made it t o the front of the que ue, but when the digital contraption went off, Larry dashed straight past me to teller four. After a while he look ed up and asked if he "jumped" me. I said if b y "jumped" he meant took my place then, yes, he "jumped" me. About ten minutes later I made my deposit at teller five and on my way out - a little flustered by what just happened - I bumped in to the guy with the birds upsetting one of the Cockatoos setting it off on a viole nt rage - the animal squawking and flapping its wings some thing awful. I doubt any of you noticed this. How could you? Working behind glass that thick how were you to know the front-of-house was descending into anarchy? For this reason - and because you have better things to do than teach your customers manners - I took the liberty of penning a letter you can send them to improve conditions. Please find it below. I don't bank with Absa, but I'm happy to do this for the greater good.
Regards,
Hans

[PROPOSED LETTER TO ABSA CLIENTS]

Dear Absa Client
It has come to our attention that people still frequent our branches to do their banking offline. To accommodate this we’d like to remind everyone of some basic rules and regulations.
Queues
Queues were designed to create order in front of the tellers and elsewhere. The way a queue works is everybody lines up front to back to form a line. The person at the front of the queue has first option to be helped when a teller frees up. A digital device in the roof above the queue will indicate the next free teller with a red stick figure running towards the number of the teller able to help. The person at the front of the queue can then briskly walk to the teller indicated. Please don’t run.
Birds
Please leave birds and other pets at home when you visit Absa. If you absolutely have to take your bird(s) with you when you go on errands, kindly leave them in the c ar with the windows cracked while you do your banking. Our banks weren’t built with birds in mind and w e most certainly do not have the manpower to deal with a situation should one of them decide to take flight. Please respect public spaces reserved for humans and enjoy the company of your bird(s) in the comfort of your home.
Thank you for your time. We wish you happy banking moving forward.
Sincerely,
Absa Bank

FROM : ABSA

Hi Hans
Thank you for your e-mail. We had complaints from clients on 25th April as w ell, and the moment I saw the client with his birds on Friday, I called him to my office to speak to him in p rivate. I explained to him that he is not allowed to bring his pe ts into the bank, and that the white Cockatoo walked into one of the consultants offices the previous day and damaged a clients handbag. We have not seen the client since Friday in the ban king hall again.
I also want to apologise for another client jumping the queue.
Kind regards
Magrietjie Dreyer

TO: ABSA

Hi Magrietjie
My condolences to the client and her handbag. Thank you kindly for getting back to me I accept the apology.
Regards,
Hans

Social Media

This was a piece of satire for the Mail and Guardian newspaper.

Hey everyone, welcome to social media class. My name is Stacey and I’m super-excited because today we have a sequence for the complete beginner. So, if you’re new to social media, or you have been curious about social media and all its beautiful, wonderful benefits, this is a g reat sequence for you.
You don’t need any blocks, you don’t need any blankets; all you need is an open phone and an open mind. If you have an iPad, that’s great; otherwise, slide to unlock and let’s get started. Place your right hand on the phone’s screen, slide your index finger on the surface and open Facebook. Remember to breathe, everyone. Go to the keyboard and type what’s on your mind. Click on “public” and hit “publish”. Your post can now be seen by everyone. Are you with us, Dianne?
Good.
Now take your palms and dive forward on all fours. On your next inhale, move the shoulders, drop the belly, and look forward. A little Cat-Cow stretch here ... Curl your toes, walk your fingers back and come up for a little rest. This is a great opportunity to roll the wrists out and reflect on your post. Did anyone denounce Islam or post a picture of the Prophet Muhammad? No? Great. We’re doing great, everyone! Stay connected to that breath. Walk your palms out and slowly bring the knees back to come into our first Downward Dog. Pulse in and out of it a few times and visualise your post. Are there any hints of racism or bigotry? Are your spelling and grammar correct? Did you call black people monkeys? Penny? You did? That’s okay.
Penny, I want you to slowly rise up into the Mountain Pose. Now lift your shirt so I can lay into you with this sjambok. This is called a Twitter Backlash, everyone. It’s a perfectly normal reaction to something that was said on the in ternet. It’s important to remember that all social networks are connected. That’s why they’re called networks. Okay, everyone, extend the right toes out long. We’re just going to take a few seconds here to breathe into that back leg. Notice that I’m rocking a little back and forth here. Chris, you tweeted “Apartheid victims are increasing along with a sense of entitlement” 30 seconds ago. That’s okay.
Chris, I want you to press away from the earth, press on the tops of the feet and just check in with one Hovering Cat or Suspended Banker. This is a gr eat pose to gather your thoughts and punch out an apology.
Awesome.
Okay everyone, let’s come back to Table Top, bring the two big toes together and bring the knees as wide as the mat. Great. Inhale. Loop the shoulders, heart radiates forward, exhale and send it back. Extended Child’s Pose. Here I want you to hold the pose for the rest of the week. I think it’s a good idea for you guys to lay low for a while and think about the hurtful things you said.

Secret Santa

This was another piece of satire for the Mail and Guardian. Emails to the top staff of a failing Fortune 500 company.

Hi all,
And happy August. Just a quick heads-up that this year’s Secret Santa cap has been dropped to R500 000 post-tax, down 50% from last year’s record high of R1-million.
The focus on this year’s event will pivot away from material values to the much more meaningful principle of giving for giving’s sake — for isn’t that what Christmas is really about?
We’d also like to extend a sincere apology for the awkwardness of last year’s event that saw gifts exchanged between our chief executive and chairman only. A thorough, and fiercely independent, audit revealed that buying the world’s foremost racehorse, wrapping the animal in g old paper and delivering it via drone down a chimney was indeed out of reach for most Steinhoff employees.
That being said, it’s a bull market and nothing says you care like a controlling share in a top performer such as Walmart, so get out there and buy, buy, buy! Enjoy Spring Day and good luck with the shopping spree.

Happy Movember everybody! A quick update on Secret Santa: R100 000 is the maximum you can spend this year. That’s an additional 50 percentage points lower than the grossly inflated amount we communicated previously. We know this is highly irregular, but it se ems we’re heading for a highly irregular Christmas that will have to be celebrated in the highl y irregular shade of an irregularly small Christmas tree.
We’d also like to take this opportunity to inform you that your Christmas bonus will come to the irregular sum of zero.
But keep those chins up g uys and don’t let it dampen your appreciation for your colleagues. Our very own Pep Stores is having a remarkable sale on socks and soaps with up to 80% markdowns so go out there and buy, buy, buy!

Hello everyone,
We’d like to squash the toxic rumour going around that the delay in the publication of our financial results points to fraud in the company and that this might have an effect on Secret Santa. Secret Santa will go ahead regardless of hearsay drivel.
To keep the event afloat our intrepid chief executive made the snap decision to buy himself a Christmas gift in the form of all the R5 Stores and Cash Crusaders in the country. There is no shame in shopping at these stores so go out there and buy, buy, buy!

Dear staff,
It is with great regret and sadness that we have to inform you that this year’s Secret Santa has been cancelled. The Steinhoff family will not be e xchanging gifts in 2017.
Instead, we’d like to ask you to write a message of hope on stationery brought from home and slide it under a colleague’s door. For isn’t that what Christmas is all about? Giving each other the things that money can’t buy? Season’s greetings everyone, and a happy New Year from all of us in top management.

Igor the Goalie

More satire for the Mail and Guardian.

Hello friends! This is note from Igor, your goalie. I’m just writing to say hi, we haven’t spoken for maybe forever.
How is it going on other si de of field? Wait, no, I have answer for that. It’s going great! We are attacking, attacking, attacking. Keep going!
Me? I am doing ok ay. Resting a lot. Thinking. Bit sad, really. Missing all of you. But I must be strong. We are strong team. Attack-minded. I must also be honest with you. I am lonely here. If you look back you will see. It is just me. I have water bottle, yes, but, of c ourse, water bottle doesn’t talk. The net doesn’t talk. The people they just shout and scream, no talk.
So I was thinking, Merka, my friend, what if you hanged back? Keep me company? What do you think? We have good relationship, no? It will be fun. I can walk out of my box, no problem. I will bring water, we can get ball, kick it around.
But, if you’re busy, Merka, I will understand. Everybody is busy. The life of a professional soccer player, very busy. Off the pitch I am also very busy. A real “busy body”, as they say. This morning, while you were signing autographs with the team, I was already busy packing. I have a lot of clothes to pack, Merka, more than you. I have long shirt, long pants, underpants, shoes, socks and also gloves. It is true, the kids don’t want my autograph. They say I am like drummer of team they don’t care, but I don’t c are too. The drummer some times the most important part of the band, the loudest. Without drummer, who will be at the back?
I know what you’re thinking and, yes, you’re right. To be alone with self is import ant. Introspection, important. But also important to remember no man can be island. I say that, but it’s not entirely true. I am an island, Merk a. I am being honest again. I am feeling lonely even here in a stadium of 80 000 people. Why? I don’t know why. Very hard to explain.
I come from good home, good school, good village. Before goalie, I play golf. Before golf, I hit tennis ball against wall. Do you see a pattern? I have been to doctor, psychologist (he tell me to take up team sport, football) and priest — no one can help. I am still single, Merka! Thirty-two and still single. I bring shame to my family. I bring shame to the team. I am no good. I’m thinking coach might take me off, tell me to “hit the showers”. I will probably cry in shower, I am so sad right now. New low.
What is all this cheering now? Crowd is restless. It is counterattack! I am going to end note now, must make defence. Merka! Are you waving? Yes, you are! Run to me, Merka! My old friend! We will make defence together.

Smile and Wave

I wrote this for a publication called Post Matric aimed at school leavers going to college or university.

The worst thing you can do standing in the shade of a large oak tree in front of an admin building where the miracle known as student life was handed to you moments ago in the shape of a roster that indicates Monday classes only start at ten and you basically have the whole of November and December off and the birds are singing and the sun is shining and you see the next three years flash before your eyes and there are parties and siting on grass doing nothing and more parties and a bit of studying and a lot of sle eping and more parties and you come back to the present and there are your parents standing in front of you - your father beaming with pride, your mother fighting off tears. The worst thing you can do in that special moment is to turn around and run, kicking your heels in the air screaming, “Free at last! Free at last!” at the top of your lungs.
Saying goodbye to your parents on your first day as a student calls for some restraint. The two people in front of you – your mom sobbing openly now; dad consoling her – were by your side for nearly two decades guiding you, loving you, bathing you and embarrassing you pretty much the same way they’re doing now from the bottom of their hearts. The least you can do is to tone it down and say goodbye with a fake lump in your throat and make-believe regret that the years fighting over curfew times have come to an end.
Now. Faking emotion requires energy and practice. The face has 43 muscles, all of which are hard wired to express the deep joy you feel about the prospect of embarking on a new life. It’s called muscle memory and, for the purposes of our exercise, is enemy number one. Saying goodbye to your folks as campus life erupts into life around you will trigger your face muscles to respond with smiling or laughing or both. Training those muscles to say the opposite of what your heart is telling them is therefore of the utmost importance when parting ways with your guardians. At that point, you want to communicate sadness and intense fear of the great unknown that lies ahead. The internet tells us that sadness is best conveyed by crying, but I’d advise steering clear of such an outp ouring of emotion so as not to arouse suspicion. Besides, mom might be crying already which could make dad feel left out. I therefore recommend drooping your eyelids and furrowing your brow.
Fear is in the eyes, more specifically, in large eyes showing enough white to blind an owl. You want your eyes to scare your parents, but not to the point where they revoke your scholarship. The right amount of fear will move your mom to say “Shame, did you see how afraid he looked?” to your dad in the car on the way home. Nothing more, nothing less.
Body language is a clear indicator of where your head is at and I think it goes without saying turning on your heel, running away from your parents as fast as you can, is not the bes t way to go. You want to be subtle. Drop your shoulders and kick in the dust while looking down. Lifting your hand to touch dad’s shoulder won’t hurt either.
Wikipedia advises actors to “gaze at nothing in particular” to convince audiences of their sadness. I would advise against that for the simple reason that everywhere you look on the first day of the rest of your life will fill you with excitement about a lot of specific things: the people around you will appear to not have a care in the world. They will walk in groups, not lines. They will carry their textbooks for the day in one hand, or not carry textbooks at all. They will look happy and content.
Looking at them – your future fellow students – will only fill you with hope and hope is the shortcut to unbridled joy. Maintain your composure. Try to stay focused on your parents and keep looking sad for as long as possible. When you feel happiness coursing through your veins and push up into your face, turn around and slowly walk away from your folks. When you are about ten metres away, turn around and face your former house mates. Smile and wave.