Burger King is famously all about giving customers what they want, how they want. It made a lot of good sense for the website to do the same. Users could dial up the fancy do-hicky sliders to deliver the content exactly the way they liked. (Give me some creepy King clips, hold the stock prices). FACT: To date, nobody has dialed the fun slider down to zero.

Things I Learned During This Project: The King is always played by the same actor. He has skinny knees.

FWA Site of the Day

Q: If you found a celebrity’s cell phone, would you look through it? A: Of course you would. For the mobile version of BK.com, we didn’t create a cut down micro site, we created a sneak peek into the life of burger world’s most notorious celebrity. Users could see all the usual corporate BK info, but they could also poke around the King’s private photos, videos, and voicemails. And as you browsed the site, texts from his favorite peeps would pop up.

Things I Learned During This Project: Making an iPhone website (as opposed to an iPhone app) means you don't have to wait for App Store approval.

In addition to straight up brand communication, CP+B also does a load of product innovation. Duh is the brand that showcases all the prototype ideas cooked up by the agency. I was the lead creative on the duh brand, and also contributed a few examples of crowd-sourcing for department VP John Winsor’s upcoming book Flipped.

Things I Learned During This Project: The Product Department's 3D printer is unfortunately unable to duplicate $100 dollar bills.

Ever been in a bar listening to some drunk guy telling you what's wrong with a sports team? Or how the NCAA runs? I know I have. So it's lucky we created the Coke Zero Dept. of Fannovation. They've put out a call for NCAA fans to suggest ways to enhance the fan experience. Any and all ideas welcome. From the ridiculous to the realistic. The winner gets $10k.

Things I Learned During This Project: Crowd-sourcing works best when it's steered in a certain direction, rather than being left open-ended.

To show how refined Burger King Spain’s new desserts were, we showed them next to one of Spain’s most antiquated, low-brow comedians: Chiquito. He's basically the Carrot Top of Spain, and is believed to have been considered funny for one brief week early in 1974. The Chiquito ads had a big impact, doubling Burger King dessert sales and even spawning a bizarre YouTube remix.

Lessons Learned During This Project:Writing for Spanish TV is doubly hard: Their spots are 20 seconds long, and their language adds syllables in translation.

Buell is a tiny motorcycle company based out of East Troy, Wisconsin. Their company ethos revolves around giving the finger to the Goliath-esque Japanese manufacturers. So when a Buell rider upstaged the Kawasakis and the Yamahas of the world to win the AMA Championship, the big guys got upset. Fittingly, we gave people this easy tear-out print ad. Fans could stick on the fridge. Haters could douse it in propane and set it ablaze. Win win.

We also did an accompanying banner ad in the same theme.

Things I Learned During This Project: Motorcycles with a split radiator vent at the front not only look good, but will cut through the air with greater efficiency.

Happy Meal ads are usually full of starbursts and jingles. Watching one is like injecting artificial sweetener into your veins. When it came time to relaunch the brand in Australia, we were given the good blessing of McDonald's to push in a different direction. 1970s Sesame Street, Michel Gondry, and silly childhood fun were our inspirations.

Things I Learned During This Project: It takes about 70 man hours to create 30 seconds of stop motion.

Bronze, Silver at the London Internationals. Bronze at the Australian AWARD show.

Banners are fun. They're like a tiny challenge to be as creative as you can in a restricted space. Instead of making a retail charity ad for Wesley Mission's Christmas campaign, we made this little blanket-in-a-banner. That's actually me in a wife-beater lying in a pile of makeshift garbage.

Things I Learned During This Project: My wardrobe closely resembles that of a homeless person.

Finalist at Cannes, The One Show and Clios. Winner at Spikes Asia and ADMA.

The Sydney Morning Herald asked people to envision a product that would get people in impersonal big cities talking to each other. My proposal was to create sets of giant fridge magnet words and distribute them across the urban landscape. Like ethical graffiti.

Things I Learned During This Project: You can actually buy and print on magnetic paper.

SMH Young Designer of the Year (Runner-Up)

My Dad loves far-fetched, Tom Clancy-esque airport thrillers. So as a Christmas gift last year, I wrote him a novel. Red Forest is the story of Wil Arkin, an American tourist in the abandoned city of Chernobyl. He discovers a terrorist group is using the area’s radiation cloak as a front for experimenting with chemical warfare.

Lessons Learned During This Project: It takes around 1,000 words a day for two months to complete a 60,000 word draft.

Here's how it opens:

15,000 feet. There’s no precedent for falling out of a plane to your death. You’ve never experienced any thing like this sensation before. Your body begins to flail like a corpse as it adjusts to the brutal swarm of air from below. You’re dropping at a mammoth speed, however your brain can’t comprehend it. You look down and see the ground. But it’s not ‘rushing up to you’ like people remark after they’ve say, gone skydiving on the weekend. In fact, the Earth looks like it’s not moving at all. The feeling is new and cozy and orgasmic.

12,000 feet. Your head starts to hurt. Your heart fights to pump blood to your brain. But it’s overwhelmed by gravity.

11,000 feet. Adrenalin begins to wear off. Slowly at first, but then rushing out your veins with a kick. You begin to perspire. But of course you don’t know it. Sweat seeps out your skin and is instantly freeze-dried by the noisy bullets of air swooshing past. You begin to panic as your situation becomes apparent.

10,000 feet. A skull-splitting, deathwish-inducing, mother-fucker of a migraine.

9,000 feet. Everything is silent. Your vision has been downgraded to black and white. It's like you’re in a surreal old time movie. Except there’s no Charlie Chaplin or Harpo Marx. And you’re about to die.

6,000 feet. Adrenalin fully depleted. It’s been replaced with lactic acid, thanks to how hard your body is fighting to not-fucking-fall-to-its-death. You’re hyper aware of what’s happening. Your thoughts race. Inside your brain, the synapses are pulsing at the speed of light. They’re attempting to calculate the approximate velocity at which the planet is rushing up to crush the fragile skull they call home. You try to lift your arm to pull a cord (any cord), but your hand feels like a fat man’s.

3,000 feet. Most people talk about blacking out. But they never talk about redding out. That’s the one you’ve got to worry about. In comparison, a black out is like spending a night at the Playboy Mansion when Hugh is hosting An Evening For Women With A Fetish For Average-Looking White Guys. Blood starts rushing to your extremities. To your fingertips, your toes, and here’s the lovely part, your eyeballs. Everything you see is awash with a coat of red blood. The clouds. The lightning cracking on the horizon. The tiny trees far below. A hellish vision at a heavenly height. It’s the exact polar opposite of seeing the world through rose-colored glasses.

1,000 feet. You actually do black out. Seconds to go now. No life flashing before your eyes, or other assorted clichés. No time. Cshhhhhh. TV static switches on as your brain switches off. It knows what’s coming. Sweet relief from visions of your impending end. All in all, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Or ever will again.

In 2005, The Glue Society invited some Aussie creatives to be locked inside a giant glass box. During an overnight brainstorming session, briefs were sent to my partner and I from all over the globe. And we had to answer them as fast and as best we could before they let us out. We also drank beers.

Things I Learned During This Project: Beer is a lesson, right?

D&AD pencil. For the overall campaign, not my late-night ideas.