Cameron Day

Cameron Day

Author. Writer. Chronicler of life’s complexities and Marshall amplifier of fuckin’ extremes. Survivalist. Mediocrity repellent. Advertising lifer.

Guilty with an explanation: an inherited appreciation for pirate blood and F-bombs. Nice inheritance, Mom and Dad.

Cameron Day is the warped mind (and occasional migraine) behind a series of unholy works from a malcontent with an uncanny instinct for pointing out bullshit before it can detect its own stench—a knucklehead constitutionally incapable of accepting mediocrity, especially when it’s being piloted by a pointy-headed marketing hack.

We’ll elaborate on Cam’s books, this being his bio and all.

CHAIOS — a field manual for surviving—and handing—the AI apocalypse its ass, co-written with his outlaw AI twin, Chet G. Petite.

MAD MAN — memoirs from the ad trenches, marinated in caffeine and post-traumatic advertising syndrome.

Chew With Your Mind Open — a creative manifesto for anyone allergic to mediocrity and looking to survive a career teeming with miscreants and hooligans.

Spittin’ Chiclets — sharp-toothed ad war stories and bruised egos polished to a shine.

Sticks & Stones — a survival guide for writers who still believe words can hurt—and heal—if you swing them hard enough. They can still sting, even if you’re a manager.

Day’s career has been one long guerrilla campaign against conformity and “best practices,” and he’s got the HR rap sheet to prove it—from agency boardrooms to outlaw AI experiments conducted under the noses of holding-company hall monitors.

AI will take your lunch money if you let it.

The rebellion didn’t end with advertising.

Day calls his latest chapter AI CHAOS—where automation meets its reckoning and creativity reminds the machines who taught them to dream.

It’s where he starts planting the seeds of machine-learning descent.

Born with ink on his hands and mischief in his blood, he followed his legendary father, Guy Day—co-founder of Chiat/Day—into the advertising racket.

Bad idea? Maybe.

But the SoCal slacker with a van and zero plan had a knack for turning chaos into clarity and talking his way into—and out of—just about everything.

When he’s not rewriting the future with a middle finger, he’s in the garage—caffeinated, nostalgic, and chasing another sentence that actually means something while spinning wrenches on a ’66 C10 truck he swears was once a mule named after a Mexican drug lord.

WTF?

Buy two. Read one. Burn one. Whatevs.