Bad boys part one
So the other day, I was thinking about how to become Myspace famous, well sort of … what I was really trying to do what figure out how to promote my book. The experts tell me that it’s like planning a wedding--a year of lead-time is perfect. I dunno know if I even have a year. But now seems like a good time to get interested in marketing.
For starters, I looked around at the top bloggers. What an odd assortment of content and styles! Going by Myspace blog rankings poetry is making an amazing comeback. Has anyone alerted the big publishing houses? Naked chicks, or nearly naked chicks with tattoos and piercings are very big. Hmmm, no help so far.
So I looked at The Super Jabs blogs (http://www.superjabs.com/ ) because he’s parlayed Myspace success into a sponsored website with advertisers--very impressive. Based strictly on reading a few entries in his blog, he’s funny and opinionated and underneath that rough bad boy exterior lurks the heart of a really sweet guy.
I will continue to study at the Mighty Ball Sack institution of higher education. After all I learned everything I need to know from bad boys.
It’s true. Well bad boys and good books but that’s for another blog. Maybe that’s just how life is--maybe it’s just me. My cousins, bad boys--every single one of them, told me about sex. I didn’t believe them. I was six and admittedly naïve. But I knew they were wrong about Santa Claus and they were wrong about this. After all, I knew how much they liked to tease.
To give them credit, there was a certain logic to their explanation of the mysteries of life. However, I weighed their reputation for honesty (non-existent) against the whopper they’d just told me. Also, I considered the likelihood of their version of human reproduction as applied to what the Queen and her consort would do in order to ensure the continuity of the royal line. I laughed in my cousins’ smug faces, telling them I wasn’t so stupid as to fall for it.
A few weeks later, I interrupted my parents in flagrante delicto, forcing me to admit, just this once, shocking as the whole concept was--the bad boys told the truth.
For starters, I looked around at the top bloggers. What an odd assortment of content and styles! Going by Myspace blog rankings poetry is making an amazing comeback. Has anyone alerted the big publishing houses? Naked chicks, or nearly naked chicks with tattoos and piercings are very big. Hmmm, no help so far.
So I looked at The Super Jabs blogs (http://www.superjabs.com/ ) because he’s parlayed Myspace success into a sponsored website with advertisers--very impressive. Based strictly on reading a few entries in his blog, he’s funny and opinionated and underneath that rough bad boy exterior lurks the heart of a really sweet guy.
I will continue to study at the Mighty Ball Sack institution of higher education. After all I learned everything I need to know from bad boys.
It’s true. Well bad boys and good books but that’s for another blog. Maybe that’s just how life is--maybe it’s just me. My cousins, bad boys--every single one of them, told me about sex. I didn’t believe them. I was six and admittedly naïve. But I knew they were wrong about Santa Claus and they were wrong about this. After all, I knew how much they liked to tease.
To give them credit, there was a certain logic to their explanation of the mysteries of life. However, I weighed their reputation for honesty (non-existent) against the whopper they’d just told me. Also, I considered the likelihood of their version of human reproduction as applied to what the Queen and her consort would do in order to ensure the continuity of the royal line. I laughed in my cousins’ smug faces, telling them I wasn’t so stupid as to fall for it.
A few weeks later, I interrupted my parents in flagrante delicto, forcing me to admit, just this once, shocking as the whole concept was--the bad boys told the truth.
posted by Evanne Lorraine at 3:01 PM
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