Power Thinking, with Dr Morris O'Connor

Power Organisation.

‘Morris you’ve got a conference call at 3pm, but you also need to prepare for your meeting at 6pm with the head of new biscuit ideas at McVities, but wait, Dickinson’s Real Deal is on, you like that, have you got time to watch it? Yes you have.’

No I didn’t, and it was those unorganised thoughts that, I think, lost me a highly lucrative snack franchise. Everyone who has seen the 3D cardboard mockups says that ‘Chocolate O’Connors’ would have been huge.

To be successful I realised I had to be organised, but I found organisation more irritating than organising my receipts or Stephen Mulhern. I didn’t want a three ring binder with my life-system in it, I wanted to be the kind of guy who held spur of the moment impromptu business meetings, but it’s amazing to discover the number of CEOs that don’t like you just turning up at their home, even if you have got another good idea for a biscuit. These days I’m like a free spirit that’s been synced with Entourage, but it wasn’t an easy journey.

I resisted organisation for so long for fear it would make me less sexy, but ironically it’s sexual organisation that has most enhanced my personal life the most. My life partner Pae Pwang-O’Connor says she loves to know exactly how long, where, what time, what props and which one us is going to get penetrated, as certain scenarios require she gets on the Bacardi beforehand. It might have taken some of the spontaneity out of it, but at least we have those sessions and the nature of the act agreed and locked into our diary.

It’s hard to tell you how to be organised, annoyingly you just kind of have to do it, in that respect it’s like covering your torso with a t-shirt in the weights section of a Fitness First. It feels like a shame, but that’s the establishment for you.

Dr Morris O’Connor is the best selling author of Rock ‘n’ Roll Organisation Tips For Free Thinking Mavericks. (comes with free life-system binder)

 

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Your problems solved, with Holly Harper

Dear Holly
I have recently asked my girlfriend to be my wife and she has accepted, which makes me the happiest man on earth. However, there is one small problem: she is refusing to take on my name after we are married. She’s saying it’s because of some women’s lib bullshit, but as far as I’m concerned, it is simply not acceptable. One minute they’re refusing to take your name, the next you’re holding their shiny bag while they browse Dorothy Perkins. Isn’t it?
Steve Dickface,
Windsor
 

Dear Steve
Sorry to hear you’re having trouble with your wife’s name. At least you don’t have to come up with a first name for her, because that can be really hard. That must be why so many kids at my school are called Jack and Olivia. I think Victoria Beckham, that great literary figure, decided to name her latest baby after a character from her favourite book. Her other kids are called Scrooge, Rumplestiltskin, Black Beauty and Thomas the Tank Engine. I had the same problem wondering what to call my new gerbils, whom I eventually christened Penelope Bumfinger and Mr Cupcake. I’m not sure they liked being called that at first as they wouldn’t come when I called them, but I poked them with a pencil a bit and after that they seemed a little more keen. Have you tried poking your fiancée with a pencil? Or maybe feed her some lettuce and put her in her plastic wheel until she agrees to do as you ask? Just be careful she doesn’t get freaked out and poo all over your jumper.
Hope that helps!
Holly