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Why do I need an idea blog?


Lots and Lots O' Pictures

This stop-motion video I made contains over 600 pictures. Enjoy!


Half-Assed Creative App, Sure Why Not?

Every semester students at SMU apply to the creative program within the Advertising major. The application consists of a single question like, "Where do you draw the line?" or "What is good?" and you must respond on a single sheet of legal paper. This years question was, "Which way?." I don't need to turn one in, but as the jealous friend of a few folks applying, I've thought about it a little. So, here is one of my early ideas that is probably way to cynical, but fun!




I've realized that an embarrassing amount of my life's energy is spent worrying about my favorite sports teams. What if I were smart enough to divert this energy into something productive? If I converted this passion into something more meaningful, I could probably cure cancer, solve world hunger, and find out why people think Tina Fey is funny...because seriously, who could think she's funny...and WHY??


You'd Tell Me, Right?

Finding life long friends is not an easy task. These true friends are the ones that you can share anything with, whether it be a tiny secret or a failed attempt to shave your loved ones initials into your naughty hair. Personally, I have been blessed with a few of these true friends and it just occurred to me that there is a common thread with all of my individual relationships.

Surely, you have had a similar experience where you are out having a good time with one of these friends when they suddenly say something like, “If I were dating someone you didn’t like, you would tell me, right? I mean, I would want you to tell me.” I have had the same conversation with three different friends and they have all been totally different experiences. The tricky part is finding a way to bring up the deal we made to be truthful without overstepping any boundaries.

The first guy I had this trouble with is a gregarious chap I’ve known since my sophomore year of high school and who loves nothing more than to show off his poor basketball skills in knee high socks and skintight shorts. Never the less, he fell head-over-socks for a cancer of a woman. At first, she seemed awesome. She joined us on several occasions and I noticed that she possessed a level of wit and sarcasm above and beyond that which is found in most everyone in our generation and she seemed like a good match for my friend. I quickly realized that this humor wasn’t actually wit or sarcasm, but that she was just mean and cruel. In fact, I heard she once punched a mall Santa because he asked her to sit on his lap. But how do you tell your friend, a guy you would slap a nun for, that she is evil? In this case I exercised the Fifth Amendment and kept quiet when I should have tried the Second Amendment.

I had the same heart to heart with another one of my close friends that I’ve known since we were in little league together. After our talk, he proceeded to find the perfect woman. Really…she is awesome. Smart, pretty, and rich parents to boot - who needs more? The only problem is: I think my friend is gay. (Unbeknownst to him, of course.) How do you bring something like that up? Either way, I love this guy and just want him to be happy. So, if that means giving me his wife for a while, I will take one for the team.

The last guy has always been the toughest. We are the closest in the group and the most brutally honest with each other. We also had the famous, “Please tell me if you don’t like who I am dating…” conversation, but he still regularly goes against my recommendations. His love life is so eventful that he blogs about it everyday. Here is an excerpt:

“My date with the homeless girl went well, except for the fact she was so needy! Anyway, after letting her super size her happy meal, we took a romantic stroll down the river to her box. She wanted me to come in for a cup of tepid rain water, but I politely declined…honestly, I was just afraid to drink out of the rusted green beans can.”

I told him the only upside to dating a homeless girl would be the fact he could drop her off anywhere, but he should not date this woman. One of our biggest fights circled around a girl he dated who had a lazy eye because I knew she was seeing somebody on the side.
I also know from personal experience that women have the same pact. When I was dating my wife, her friends were always trying to “protect her” from me. I never understood them though because they always sent mixed signals. One day I would wake up with my house on fire and the words, “Leave her alone!” etched into the sidewalk, but the next day they would bring me tart yellow snow-cones and I figured they were starting to like me. Fortunately for me, my wife ignored their warnings that I was chauvinistic and over-bearing. She realized it was all untrue, I got the girl, and we have been very happy for almost eight years.

I guess in the end, it’s really not my job to judge. Like all true friends, I ultimately just want them to be happy and for them to want the same for me. It doesn’t matter if their relationships are successful or if they are happy with their choices, because no matter what the outcome, we will always be friends and I’ll be there to support them just like they support me.

Tomorrow’s Blog: “Women: Cheap Labor or Cheap to Replace”


Hear ye, Hear ye!

Alright, I’ve been thinking a lot about my future lately. Specifically, how I can possibly get a job in this economic climate. Especially since it is so difficult to get noticed in the over-flowing sea of applicants. So I came up with a brilliant plan to get some attention. What if I made my book stink? I mean SERIOUSLY stink, so that when the book is sitting in the interviewer's office, it will demand attention. I realize this isn’t the best association and it leads to obvious puns, not to mention the fact that it would probably really piss someone off, but they’d have to seek it out eventually...right?


Big decisions.

So, I bought 'Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing' for the first time ever instead of my normal money-saving store brand. When I brought it home, my wife and I almost threw a party because we bought the 'real' ranch. It was depressing how excited we actually were. I'm ready for a time where I don't have to worry about buying the off-brand. Not rich, but not EXTREMELY poor. You know what... let's adopt communism.



Don't Wait to Read this Post!

It is that time of the year where students all around the world are slacking off, a tiny bit. I am unsure why we put things off to the last second anyway because it just makes life harder. So this got me thinking about procrastination. Is our proclivity to procrastinate something that is generational or did our fore fathers decide that the other half of that declaration thingy could be written later? I know people always say that older men should have their procrastinate checked regularly, but what about us college students?

I have a new theory. Anytime I do or say something that could be harmful or set me up for failure in the future, I just say, “Sounds like future Matt’s problem.” That way I don’t have to feel guilt for any situation, but I will also, more than likely, hate myself later.

This has happened a couple of times this semester already, like when I had a ten page research paper due, but of course, tried to cram the whole process into the final two days. I ignored the paper for the six or so weeks before the due date, because that was clearly “future Matt’s problem.”

What if my procrastination problem gets worse and I am procrastinating on bigger things, like fighting crime or solving world hunger or worse… watching The Office? Seriously, that is crossing the line.

I realize the only thing that can snap me out of this postponement predicament is already here. The only monstrosity that will make me realize that most simple tasks can not be put off another second: my son.

I am just scared to hand down my same bad habits to my kiddo. The only way to make sure that he doesn’t pick up my bad procrastination habit is to stop altogether. From here on out I WILL NOT drag my feet on any project or homework that needs to be done. Ultimately, I don’t want “future Matt’s problems” to be “future little-Matt’s problems.” So from here on out, I quit the procrastinating… well, maybe I will start tomorrow.


I'm gonna learn you sumpthin'

Here is the video we made for our Intro to Creativity class. We're teaching the difference between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. Enjoy!



Presents or Presence?


Theory of the Day!



Nuthin' Like a Good Pair of Double D's

Wouldn't it be awesome to set a world a city? I had an idea for a festival that would be called "Dance Dallas" that would have the goal of setting a world record. We'd try to get as many folks together as possible to dance to the same song at the same time. Of course, this would have to be a VERY large group. Here's one draft of my logo: (sketched when I should have been paying more attention)

Get it?! The cheesy shoes as D's effect? Anyway, this is crazy thought, but it might be fun. You in?



I'm on the Crazy Train

The following are some thoughts I scribbled while riding the train home from school and turned into a stream-of-consciousness writing exercise:

I am fake writing to avoid talking to a crazy train-person. Now she's talking about being 40 and not understanding how people my age don't choke everyone around them. It's odd the lengths we will go to just to avoid other humans. My generation is not only the most cynical consumer ever, and even though we are constantly told how we live in a shrinking global society, we still can't handle anything outside our 3ft radius of comfort zone. Look at me: outgoing, clever, sexy, self-centered and AFRAID to talk to another human being. Since I've been furiously scribbling, she's fallen silent.

So now that you have all of the evidence, you tell me...who is the real crazy train-person?



Here are a few of the ads I wrote, directed, acted in, and edited, for an Advertising Literacy project. We were teaching the class about our assigned agency: TBWA.


Let's keep the baby trend going.

Okay...this is my last baby post. (Even though I really can't promise that.)

Here is a video I made for no reason. It is hard to watch this video now that I realize that he will never know how much I love him. Does my Dad love ME that much? Hmm...


Pre-baby Writings!

This is a writing from a month before the wife became pregnant..irony....

No Thanks, Babe

There is a clock in this universe that ticks louder than an old man with Parkinson’s playing the drums. It’s my wife’s uterus and it is virtually a ticking time bomb. After deflecting the standard baby debate that every newly married couple goes through, I started thinking about how babies and I don’t mix. Every single step of the process has inherent problems.

Step one: Delivering under pressure.

Frankly, I am not that great to start with, so the added pressure of delivering the swimmers…well it’s a gamble. On the other hand, practice does make perfect.

Step two: Hormone-crazed wife.

Like most of the men in this world, I have come to the conclusion that 97.8% of women are clinically insane. I don’t know if it is a holy punishment or some sort of secret pact that women have, but I have the queen of the crazies. The idea of my wife having heightened emotions because of a chemical imbalance makes me want to hire a 24-hour body guard.

Step two and a half: I have to live with her.

I can see it now. Walking in the front door, tired from a full day of work and school only to find my wife lying on the couch wearing a “Baby On Board” t-shirt commenting on the finer points of “The Young and the Restless”. And when I dare ask what she did all day she will retort with “I grew a lung for YOUR child today. What did you do?” This will ultimately be her default answer for everything; so how do you combat growing major organs?

Step three: Raising the little monster.

Everyone has the fear of being a bad parent - it is a feeling no one can escape. Personally, I have grown up around very few small children. Now that my friends are having children, I have the opportunity to have more interaction with babies. The problem is I have no baby experience and plenty of dog experience, so the only experience I have to draw from is that of raising dogs. Even the simplest task of getting the child’s attention gets skewed into a stereotypical “come here” style dog whistle. This thought scares me. I can’t even communicate with babies without using the subtle grunts that I have used to talk to my furry children. But above all of these things is the scariest thought…I would be responsible for another human life. I don’t even like me. Then comes school, driving, a wife or husband, prison time, and eventually the grandchildren cometh. Just thinking about my child’s life and happiness is stressful, not to mention that I would have to learn to be a friend, parent, and bank.

So, I just can’t do it. No children for me. I don’t care what that wretched wife wants. A wise man once told me, “Do not have kids!” That and, “You always look very sexy.” Even though that wise man was me, I plan to live by his advice. Just these three steps alone are enough to scare me off…I think.

I also realize that maybe you have to take these baby steps before you can learn to walk the road of true happiness. Nah…


What would you do if you found out?

I found this in my archive of writings. It is from...well, you can read.

It’s Hard to Be a MacDaddy
By: Matt Villanueva

As I sit here in my Thundercat underwear, watching MacGyver on my big screen with a cigar in one hand and a half-full bottle of Jager in the other, I realize something…life can not get any better than this. Suddenly, my sobbing wife pops out of nowhere and I react quicker than lightning as I hop up, toss my cigar and Jager to the floor, and offer up a tissue once used to stuff the front of my undies. After my MacGyver-inspired reaction and a quick trip to the fire extinguisher, (Note: Jager and cigar create fire.) I ask my wife what could have possibly upset her so much. She then proceeds to tell me the two words that will change my life forever, “I’m pregnant”.

Dumbfounded, I freeze and ask myself, what would my hero MacGyver do? Would he create some sort of time machine out of two ginger ales and a dredle to stop me from being so amorous on the night of conception? Or maybe he would simultaneously fix our healthcare system and win the lottery with a single turn of a screwdriver? Probably not, but I did see him use a piece of chocolate to…never mind, back to the story.

As I go back to my hysterically crying wife and reassure her that all is well, she starts to throw out all of the normal worries associated with having a baby. In the midst of her rant, I have the terrifying epiphany of a lifetime. There is going to be a person that thinks and acts EXACTLY LIKE ME…the Armageddon cometh.

And all at once I realize that a baby will be the greatest challenge to our ever changing early 20’s life. Once I’ve had some time to think about it, I realize that we are the perfect candidates for a baby. Check out these stats:
• Married over 2 years
• Ample friend and family support
• I think pregnant chicks are hot
• College educated parents
• A good MacGyver loving household

With these new realizations, I grab my wife and squeeze her as I whisper in her ear how excited I truly am. Always the optimist, I start to see how wonderful this new journey will be. I am going to be a dad…whew, that sounds weird.

But still in the back of my mind I worry, thinking that this isn’t the perfect time for us to have a baby. And maybe we’re just not ready!? But, then I calm myself and remember all of the times my friend Mac was caught in stickier situations and how he always comes out unscathed.

So, you know what? I can do this and I am unafraid. (Babies smell fear)

After a little more crying and worrying, my wife calms down enough to call her mother and share the big news. Meanwhile, I flip the TV back on and sit as I stare blankly at the screen thinking only of a new life to come. Deep in thought, my mind abruptly stops on a new fact: I am even better than the great MacGyver. Mostly due to the fact that I made a baby…I mean think about it, I made a person!

Luckily, I’ve already got the perfect name in mind, and let me tell you baby MacGyver will be the greatest kid ever.


TBWA Montage

In my advertising literacy class, I had to make a presentation to the class that conveyed the personality of our assigned agency. One facet of the project required us to share some of the agency's work, so I made this video. It took some time, but I ended up satisfied with the final product and I thought I'd share.

This is another montage I put together for the same project. We took the idea from an Absolut spot and after lots and lots of editing, this is what I ended up with!


Hello Foot - My name's Bullet.

Alright, I’ve been thinking a lot about my future lately and how I could possibly get a job in this economic climate. Especially since it is so difficult to get noticed in the sea of applicants. So, I came up with a brilliant plan to get some attention. What if I made my book stink? I mean SERIOUSLY stink, so that when the book is sitting in the interviewer's office, it will demand attention. I realize this isn’t the best association, and it leads to obvious puns, plus it’d really piss someone off - but they’d have to seek it out eventually, right?


Creative Process

I took a stab at making a visual representation of my creative process. I guess one incarnation would look something like this:



Photo Fun!

Here are some of the photos I took with the objective set to stop motion. It is amazing to see what happens at certain points in time. Makes you realize that time never stops, except in our memories.


My Plate Runneth Over.

I had two great ideas today. The problem with having a lot of ideas is that you want to chase them and I have chased more than a few. That is how I became a softball player, columnist, improvisational actor, screenwriter, and marketing intern; on top of being a husband, father, and student.

Today I added two activities to the "things I want to do because they popped into my head so now I really want to do these things" list.

Number One:
I would love to give a speech at graduation.  Do I deserve to give any kind of speech? Well, no. I don't have the best grades and I am not the president of any club, nor do I have the connections to make this happen. But that doesn't matter. It's a dream.

I'd love to give a "go forth" type speech that was fun, funny, and entertaining. Maybe add a musical number or an interpretive dance.

Number Two:
I want to write a new column entitled "Ask a Dad" where students could ask questions or confess anything to me, their on-campus dad. I don't really have the time for a new endeavor, nor do we know if anyone would actually write in, but surely I could squeeze in an hour or two a week for something fun.

Yes, I'm crazy and asking for more responsibility and work, but if I don't do it now then when?


Food Network, Why do you Haunt Me So?

I am positive that Bobby Flay's perceived sexiness has a direct correlation with my hunger level. In fact, I made a graph:

Also, I just realized how awesome graphs are. Here is another graph about my favorite graphs:



Blog Fail.

Disclaimer: This blog contains many disclaimers and bad ideas. If you have a weak stomach, or are pregnant, please look away.


The Most Creative Man in the World

I have found the most creative job in the world, but unfortunately, the pay is bad, the hours are long, and you get no respect. Many people have this job and some are better than others, but I am here to tell you that there is no more demanding job on earth than that of the parent.

I know it sounds odd, but someday you will understand and agree that being responsible for a child twenty-four hours a day is the most demanding job in the world. This job demands more creativity than any other because you've got to explain the everyday happenings of the world to someone who is new to it.

Try to explain to a twenty-two month-old why screaming "bad guy" at every scruffy old man in line behind us in line at the grocery store is not acceptable.


Teaching them how and why to use the potty.

Being a parent takes a lot of energy, creativity, and cat like reflexes, but it's a job that I'd never trade for anything in the world.


My Mind Map

The assignment was to create a mind map of your mind. At first, I was so preoccupied trying to do the project perfectly that it just got in the way of doing it right.

My wife loved the final result, but said that it portrayed me as a overly negative person, which could not be farther from the truth. I have no explanation as to why it looks this way, but it was therapeutic to get the ideas on the paper and then leave them behind.

In the end, I learned a lot about myself and where these ideas or concepts are positioned in my mind. 


My Directorial Debut.

This may be the greatest video ever made. I put this short film together about eight years ago and have declined several offers to direct feature-length films since uploading it. Without further ado, feast your eyes on, "Toast the Movie!"



S M U Annoy Me.

This week I have encountered the seedy underbelly of what we know as SMU.  You would think it would be underage drinking, the lack luster football program or just KPNI programming, but NO! I have encountered the unintelligent people that plague every classroom and sidewalk.  Clearly, we have all run into the occasional dimwitted colleague, but lately it has been worse than Drew Carey hosting The Price is Right.

First, to the guy who deems it necessary to practice his competition frisbee twirling skills on the lawn in front of Dallas Hall, stop. You should probably focus less on slinging frisbees around while listening to “Eye of the Tiger,” and more on looking for a lady-friend.

A quick second complaint goes as follows: those Ugg boots are called that for a reason.  They are hideous and no one, and I mean no one should ever dawn that repugnant footwear ever again.  The sad part is, the lovely ladies on our campus seem to think they don’t look like Eskimos on vacation.  Please stop wearing those boots, because I could never imagine the vile odor that emanates from those eyesores after a full day of walking the campus.

Last, and most importantly, please follow the unwritten rules of attending class.  To explain, let me share an experience I had earlier this week.

On a normal Tuesday morning, I walked into my marketing class, excited to have my test returned so I could quell some of my post test anxiety.  As soon as I stepped in the door, I realized that some broad had swiped my seat.   This forced me out of my routine, but I figured that pushing through the minor set-back wouldn’t be a big deal.  So I posted up about four rows back on the aisle, trying not to displace one of my fellow scholars.  As the class started, so did the mouth of the sorority sweetheart who had come in at the last second to sit next to her friend. They began to discuss last night's events and continued to talk throughout the ENTIRE lecture.  At one point, I almost interrupted their discussion to ask them to be quiet, but I decided against my plan for fear that they wouldn’t understand me if every other word in my sentence wasn’t, “like”.  So it only added to my frustration when, at the end of class, as everyone was praising the teacher's assistant for a job well-done, "Chatty Kathy" in front of me ads in, “Yeah, you are like, awesome, Gena.” Now, I am not normally picky, but if you are going to tell someone how awesome they are, maybe you should use their actual name and not something that sounds close enough.

These fifty minutes were a catastrophe and I left hating my life. I have since decided to write the three golden rules of attending class:

1.     Do not take someone else’s seat because, yes, there is an understood seating chart.
2.     Do not in the same sentence tell your TA what an amazing job she is doing and also call her a completely wrong name
3.     Never sit in a class that you attend twice a year and talk through the entire lecture because it is very rude.

I guess the only lesson to be learned here is to never be a Ugg-boot-wearing, inconsiderate frisbee-man and we won’t have a problem.


Bad Hair Epoch?

Let me just throw this all out there and try to paint a picture of why I would do such a juvenile thing. I'm 26 years old, a full time student, and stay-at-home Dad who worked in a jail for 3 years where it was "Standard Operating Procedure" to keep short and bland hair. So why, two years removed from the jail, would I do this to my hair?

Let me show you what I am talking about:


(Despite the angle of the picture, I am not struggling with teen angst or in need of an emo picture for my myspace)

I think many times people alter their appearance for attention, but that's not my style. I don't need attention or recognition as long as I am happy with myself, so THAT can't be it.  I've never wanted to be "quirky". Maybe some people think quirkiness equals creativity and they are trying to show the rest of the population how intriguing or intelligent they are, while in actuality they are just as boring and as creative as the rest of us.

In the end, I honestly believe the urge to change my hair stems from boredom, dollar store hair color, and a wife who gave me permission.

***Dear FTC,
          The before and after images depict typical results.




Dirty Filthy Rotten FTC!

How dare they try to censor the common man while munching on tasty Skittles©. Then again EVERYONE should be able to taste the rainbow!

But seriously,  this is another case of "the man" keeping an eye on me and my beautiful, comfy, new Adidas© shoes. So comfortable and reliable that I may just give them to my family for Christmas. As they say, impossible is nothing!

I say we all rise up and take down the FTC after a nice refreshing Coca-Cola©, because you should always enjoy the coke side of life.

***These messages brought to you by over regulation and a complete disregard for rational consumers.


I <3 America.

Only in America could a person make a living painting pancakes on the faces of world leaders and other cultural icons. That man, Dan Lacey, has branched out to painting President Obama nude. For me, these paintings spark the never-ending debate over what is considered art.

So you tell me. Is this art?


Dan Lacey's work can be found at:



Waiting for you

As I sit on the stairs of Meadows quietly pondering what my next blog will be about, my mind slowly drifts to the realization that I have no friends. Now wait. I have a wife and an overactive child, but as a 26-year-old commuter student, I have no SMU friends. It may be my misanthropic attitude or just poor hygiene, but still I haven’t managed to make a single friend.
SMU is a great place with many different kinds of people; so I really should try to make a friend. So I've hatched a plan. My plan is to put a listing on Craigslist, searching for a friend that attends SMU. It is clearly the easiest way to make a friend.

Here is the posting I've listed:

“Subject: Student seeking friend at SMU.

My name is Matt and I am an advertising major seeking an on-campus friend. Applicants to be my friend should be taller than five feet and have all appendages.  Any applicants must be less attractive,  not quite as humorous as myself, and must also have the ability to change diapers. Attractive females need not apply - my wife will murder you.

To apply, please send a friendly response and a picture of yourself. Pay based on experience."

While waiting for a friendly response, I've received a call from my cousin who was asking how my dentist appointment went earlier today.  After describing to him how the hygienist had huge, um…fingers, my cousin said he was going to a movie if I wanted to come along. I politely declined, explaining to him I was waiting for a reply from a potential friend. 

About two hours later, my computer grabbed my attention with the obligatory “bling” sound and I ran to see the new email.  Disappointing. The new email was a false alarm. It was just my sister inviting me to go shopping. Clearly, I could not go for fear of missing a response from my unknown friend out there.

So far the day has been a loss. Just a little while ago, I had just started to doze off for a short nap when my co-worker busted in the door and said we were going to enjoy a Cowboys game on his dime.  Once more I was forced to decline, due to my need to stay by my computer to answer any replies.

It has now been six hours and still no response.  What am I supposed to do?  How will I ever make friends if no one will email me?  Fine. I give up.  Fate has determined that I will have no social interaction whatsoever.

So next time you see me sitting on the steps of Meadows typing away on my MacBook, don’t just drop change into my coffee cup. Say, 'hi!' and maybe we can be friends.

Got to go high school buddy is calling and he wants to play some golf. Not today Jon, I'm waiting for a friend!


W+K Platform Application Part Deux

The second part of the application asked the question, "Who are you?" So I did a very cheesy video where I look douchingly at the camera for extended periods of time. Here is that video:

Only three days after the deadline, I received this email from W+K.

Hello everyone,

Thank you very much for applying to Platform.  We had over 180 applicants and the standard of entries was truly impressive and the competition very tough.

We have spent the last week going through everyone’s submissions and after some tough decisions / heated debate we have finally selected the candidates for our open day.

Unfortunately, this time around you have not been selected.  If you would like feedback about your entry then please email

We really hope you enjoyed participating in the Platform briefs and wish you every success with whatever you do next.

Best regards,

Sam, Lucy and Donna
The Platform Team

 Of course I wanted feedback! Who wouldn't?! So, they sent me this feedback:

Dear Matt,
First of all thank you for your Platform submission we enjoyed looking at it. All in all we received over 180 submissions in total from around the world. We were very impressed by the standard of work, which was extremely high. From the 180 people who submitted projects we have selected 40 people to come to the Platform open day in London. We are sorry you weren’t selected. We thought the least we could do is offer you our point of view on your work, as we know you put a lot of effort into it. Hopefully you will find our feedback useful, so let’s get down to it. So your problem was the big one, the forgetting the towel when you are in the shower. We loved your film it made us all laugh a lot! It was clearly a totally over the top solution but we loved the way it was dramatised by you. I guess the sticking point for the judges was, is this guy funny and talented or just funny? We needed to see some clear evidence that you had the talent to back up the humour, evidence of grounded creativity I suppose. We had other entries that were high on humour too but also delivered the creative goods and so the decision was to go with the candidate that had both the solid idea, humour and great execution.

Thank you for really making us laugh, there weren’t many entries this funny! I hope that was of some help. Thank you for applying to Platform and best of luck in whatever you do next.

Kind regards,
Creative Director

So there it is. They didn't know if I was funny or funny and creative. Somehow, through two 1-minute videos, they figured me out. Amazingly, they pinpointed the crux of my life and punched me in the face with my insecurity. Thanks for the feedback. 


The Real Effects of Advertising.

Last weekend, my dad and I went to a flea market. This is no unusual Saturday -- we ARE Mexican after all. Upon getting out of the car, I realized that my dad did not bring his normal rolling cooler that is a staple of these bargain-shopping trips. Instead, he brought an over-the-shoulder rig that weighed close to thirty pounds. Realizing that he would be carrying this monstrosity around all afternoon, I asked him if the more convenient, rolling cooler was broken.  He looked at me and said, "I was going to bring it, but haven't you heard the Real Men of Genius commercial?" I had heard the commercial, but the ad-student inside of me told him no. He went on to explain that they made fun of the guy for pulling a rolling cooler, so he didn't want people to see him and think of that ad. I told him that was understandable and let it go, but it was amazing to see the unintended effects of advertising and made me realize that sometimes the industry has more power that it thinks.

Mom n' Dad


Vertical Intertextuality!

In my Intro to Creativity class, we have been talking about 'intertextuality,' which is basically referencing old or new cultural texts and drawing on the "common knowledge" of society. For example, these ads are great examples of vertical intertextuality because they reference the video game genre. By using the video game iconography within an ad, they have stepped outside of their own genre, making this vertical intertextuality. Any further questions can be sent to @wgriffin !



W + K Platform Application Pt. 1

This summer, I applied for a program called "Platform" through Wieden + Kennedy London. It is basically the opportunity to be an intern via satellite.  You gain experience through solving problems with team members via the internet.

The first prompt was to solve a problem in an unconventional way. Here is what I did:


Top 3 Reasons Not to Commit Suicide:

1. With his piercing stare, and endless knowledge, watching MacGyver tops the list.

2. The second reason, only behind watching MacGyver, is returning to your table at a restaurant to find your meal waiting for you. In fact, I would rather the waiter do as his name suggests and wait for me to leave the table to bring my food. Like a mini surprise party... without the sombrero.

3. Family and junk.


My Birthday Again? It's only been a year.

It is my birthday this week and I have started to wonder what that means anymore. Once you turn 16, life is great because you get a drivers license. At 17, you don’t have to sneak into rated R movies anymore. The 18th birthday brings the ability to buy cigarettes and more importantly, porn. Birthdays 19 and 20 are all building up to the point where you can buy alcohol, but after that…then what? What do I have to look forward to? I will turn 26 only to reinforce the fact that my life is over a quarter spent. Since I am almost dead, I figured that a birthday bash is the only way to go. Therefore, I have decided to invite all of you to my party. To save on postage I have attached the invitation:

Since you have all been formally invited I hope you can make it out to the party! Also, if you are wondering what I want for my birthday, the list is rather simple and it goes something like this:

Birthday list:
1. Socks
2. The revocation of the 19th Amendment
3. Yosemite Sam mud flaps
4. “Yentl” on VHS
5. Do-it-yourself embalming kit

I gave this same list to my mom and she said she would get the socks. So anything else on the list would be appreciated.

Since I am getting older, that means my wife is getting older to. She is 26 now, so I'm thinking maybe I could trade her in for two 13 year olds? No, I am only kidding, she would kill me if I only got two 13 year olds for her; she’s thrifty like that.

I have always heard that you’re only as old as you feel and I think that is a bunch of crap! Sometimes, I feel about 120 years old when that alarm clock goes off and I struggle to climb out of bed to get to class. I bet whoever made up that saying never had 6 Mai-tais and 8+ shots of tequila before trying to get up for an eight o’clock Ethics class.

I hope to see you all at my party this weekend, and remember gift cards will not be accepted due to lack of thought on your part. I am not really worried about getting older, because Abraham Lincoln had it right when he said, “It’s not the years in your life that count, but the life in your years."



First, Last, and Only poem I've ever written.

Let me start out with the fact that I am not a fan of poetry on any level. I can appreciate it, but it does nothing for me. This fact makes the idea of me writing poetry even more ridiculous.

I wrote this poem after the death of my grandmother. She lived with us and we were very close. Honestly, no one has ever seen this. I haven't even told my wife or shared it with my closest friend, but with the "anonymity" of blogging, I am just going to throw it out there.

Out of the Box
By: Matt Villanueva

This is life
Much like a game
When all we have is loss and gain

And the dice we roll always take their toll
especially on the body and soul.

Then you take a chance and hope in advance
that you’re not getting your very last glance.
At life and the love that comes from above
to protect us in this oblivious trance.

Because bad gets worse and the worst get worse
Only then, do we realize were only moving in one direction

Different paths we may take
With the decisions we make.
While the paths only lead you to the next space.
Though the number of spaces is on a case by case basis
It is the same fate that always awaits us.

Now that it is all over with no ticks on the clocks
we see we are just pieces waiting to be put back in the box
This, is life.



The first Blog --- What an awful title...

It is now October 1st and I've completely given up on trying to make a good post. This blog has really been haunting me and not for lack of ideas. Certainly, from the outside it looks like I'm a lazy student or some sort of procrastinator, but this is just not true.

I've been stressing on how to start this blog. In fact, I've already made and taken down several posts. This leads me to my latest idea that I hate every idea I have. Written or spoken, good or bad, I am my own worst critic - to use a hackneyed adage.

Are all creative people this way? Will I ever be able to like and enjoy an idea I have without being so critical that I talk myself out of my latest epiphany? Who knows.  What I do know is that this first blog is done and I hate it already.