Several people have written me to ask how the advertising thing is going. What have I done so far and how is it going and what is the plan? I do not have time to instruct all of you in my marketing genius individually, so today?
I present:
An Advertising Tutorial . . . By Kris
Write a blog.
Have vague plans to become rich and famous by virtue of your stellar writing.
Have husband point out repeatedly that “plan” is perhaps not the appropriate descriptive term, as there is, in fact, no plan.
Fail to have plans come to fruition.
Delete all emailed inquiries from marketing folks looking to advertise on your blog, because you are opposed to selling yourself out by monetizing your blog in any fashion.
Delete . . . delete . . . delete.
Realize belatedly that monetize looks suspiciously as though it starts with money letters.
Google.
Damn it.
Decide that you need to make some money and sense that advertising will be required.
Do nothing, in case this is the moment the whole “rich and famous” thing is going to kick in.
Have that plan continue to fail to come to fruition.
Have husband again point out the lack of a plan.
Decide to accept advertising.
Obsess over how to tell your readers about this decision.
Tell your readers about this decision.
Read through the reader comments on that post.
Realize you could have saved yourself a lot of grief by just emailing Ben privately and assuaging his concerns.
Have husband pester you endlessly about putting up an advertising page.
To spite pestery husband, put up a completely unacceptable Advertising Page.
Do some research and make up a pricing sheet for your ads.
Obsess about how you have decided to ask too much.
Obsess about how you have decided to ask too little.
Have husband try to soothe you with alcohol.
Have slightly drunken discussion with husband about how you are only putting up ads that are relevant to the writing you are doing on Pretty All True because you are not just a blogger you are a writer and damn it an artist and you have integrity and standards and shit and you are only putting up ads to which you feel a connection.
Sit down at computer the next morning, and see that you have received emails from two potential advertisers. One is a card company and the other is a bedding company.
Remember all of the times you have ever given or received a card and all of the times you have been in a bed.
Feel an instant and warm connection to the inappropriate hilarity of Lynn’s Across the Line Cards and the luxurious affordability of Beddington’s Bed and Bath.
Ahem.
Place those ads.
Immediately begin to obsess about those advertisers’ satisfaction.
Ask husband about 8 billion times, “But what if my numbers go down?”
Have husband tell you to just “keep the quality of the content high” and your numbers shouldn’t drop.
Remind husband that this is why you never look at your numbers, because you get all crazed.
Have husband suggest that if you looked at your numbers once in a while, that nebulous plan thing might be easier to undertake.
Obsess about how you will never be able to write again because now you are all pressured.
Yell at your husband about how annoyed you are about suggestions like, “keep the quality of the content high.”
Moan about how you should never have looked at your numbers, and you don’t want to have a plan unless the plan is that someone else recognizes your genius and rewards you handsomely.
Lie on the floor and curl up in a ball and announce you are done with Pretty All True.
Hear husband sigh heavily.
Inform husband that he needs to be nice or you will write about the time he mistakenly told you he had seen snuff porn.
Giggle at that lovely memory.
At husband’s behest, agree to chat on the phone with representative of BlogAds about using their services to solicit advertising.
Completely misunderstand the part of the discussion in which husband mentions he will not be home during this phone conversation.
Have husband suggest dozens of questions you should ask during this conversation.
Stop paying attention as soon as you become aware that you don’t understand what your husband is saying.
Obsess about the fact that the advertising lady will realize you are a complete and total idiot.
Obsess about the fact that if husband divorces you, you will no longer be able to blog as you have not paid that much attention to anything Tech Support Guy has been doing.
Decide more blow-jobs are in order.
Answer telephone against your better judgment and listen as lovely woman from BlogAds describes their services.
Try to remember the questions husband told you to ask.
Hear the lovely woman on the other end of the phone say, “So, do you have any questions for me?”
Panic, search your memory, and then say, “No, I have just been so impressed with the amount of tutorial information that is available on your website. I am sure questions will come up as I begin to utilize your services, but at the moment I am confident that I know everything I need to know.”
Hold your breath in case the lovely woman calls bullshit on you.
Exhale in relief.
Several hours later, explain to your husband that the lovely woman from BlogAds was in a rush and did not have time to answer all of your questions on the phone.
Explain to skeptical husband that she asked you to email her any questions that came up.
Try to speak intelligently about the conversation you had with the BlogAds woman and watch your husband’s eyebrows go way up.
Remember about the blow-job thing.
Yeah.
So funny! I just enabled ads on my blog as well. I’ll click yours if you click mine, LOL.
Not even.
You remember what I call these sorts of comments, right?
No, what?
In other news, I’ve never been the first commenter before. Thrilling!
I call those comments little nuggets of whore joy.
Snort!
Also, Adrienne?
Why is your blog not linked to your commenter ID?
Ummmmmm, not sure? I have it listed as the website . . . I don’t have any tech support at home, unfortunately.
I see only two links to two different email addresses.
ooooooh, wait for it . . .
I meant to have a . there, not a @
:-/
Snort!
I’m sure your readers will want to go check my blog out now that I’ve impressed them with my massive intellect and extensive computer skills . . . riiiight.
You are all kinds of fabulous!
Silly you.
There is an impostor among us. I cry foul!
HA!
Hello, you.
I agree that the bed ad is perfect for your site. Where else will this blow job thing happen? Duh!
ps – how is it that the #2 bloggers votes are actually going down? You have a HUGE lead now, where it used to be about 100 different. Seems odd! And yes, I do click EVERYDAY.
Thank you for the votes!
They are doing some sort of rolling total over there.
So instead of votes just being continually added to an ever-increasing total, they are adding up your votes for the last 30 days.
So each new day’s votes are added, but the first day of those 30 days of votes is dropped off.
It’s confusing, but the result is that your reported number can move up or down even as votes continue to come in.
Or at least, that’s my understanding.
Got that?
Exactly!
And then?
Mark can send me a thank-you card.
Because I am that awesome.
Cards are merited.
Snort!
I have BlogHerAd’s. I do love BlogHer. If you still have questions, @elisaC is on Twitter and she’s a sweetheart. She works for BlogHer.
Besides that? Hell, I don’t even notice ad’s on anyone’s page. I think in general, most people are used to them by now. Just keep being you. You’ll be great.
Except me is not that capable.
Or plannish.
Wish me luck.
Ah crap. I read BlogAd’s as BlogHerAds’s.
Sigh. I’m brain dead today.
My aren’t you looking pretty this afternoon.
*slinks away*
HA!
I knew it!
I thought you had misread, but didn’t want to call you out.
HA!
BlogAds.
Silly you.
You can always call me out. Promise. :)
I have no clue about ads. Except that well, I have some. They are shiny.
Good luck lady.
My two ads are very shiny!
Plus?
Jingly.
I am fond of jingly.
Money money money money money money money.
Wait? Did you say anything else?
Love ya.
Oh, yes. Blow jobs. Not gonna let the husband read this one. Sorry. “No, honey, Kris didn’t post today.”
Smart-ass.
Also?
As currency goes?
Oral sex is quite fungible.
Take that, vocabulary woman!
Web definitions for fungible
a commodity that is freely interchangeable with another in satisfying an obligation
hmmm YEAH THAT’s right I had to look it up
This commodity is not however covered under legal bartering right?
But whatever works!
Oh, it works.
It works nicely.
Hilarious…I can just see the thought process going down. That was funny Kris. Seriously, but I don’t see any ads on the iPad version of your site. I wouldn’t worry about the content if I was you…if you keep on being you, and you can hardly help that now can you, it will all work out…I’m sure!
Good luck with those pain in the ass ads!
These ads don’t show up on the mobile version!
So yay for secret way around viewing the ads!
Snort!
Oh yeah… her thought process was GOING DOWN. Hee hee.
Dear Advertisers –
I cannot be held responsible for the potentially offensive and reprehensible commentary of my readers.
Yours sincerely,
Kris
Um, HELLO! If Mark is the mastermind behind the advertising, tell him to deal with those kinds of calls.
Then write about the silly shit he chooses for ads on your page.
Then we can all laugh about it, AND you deal with less bullshit.
I’ll be here if you need any other solutions to pressing issues. Right here.
I have suggested to Mark that my life would be much better if he would agree to be my minion.
Mark is all balky at this notion.
He has things to do that are not me, apparently.
Annoying.
Fucking men.
Mark says to tell you in no uncertain terms that the things he has to do that do not include me?
Also do not include fucking men.
SNORT!
LMAO.
Hee hee!
Kris
I LIKE your plan. You’ll figure it out as you go.
Just bag up those bucks from your blog.
Your only job should be to write and then spend the money.
and maybe blow jobs.
She’s making money from her words of genius and beauty BIT-CHES
heee
See!
Yes!
I have told Mark many times that I need to be kept in a bubble! I need to be protected from all of this bullshit so that my artistic genius can flourish. I need a buffer zone!
I need a bubble, I tell him.
Mark has repeatedly offered to get me a giant Hamster Ball.
He is a way big smart-ass.
Glad to know I am not the only one that zones out when the hubby starts talking tech. Of course, in my case it’s because I ask a simple question and get a lecture. I do not have the attention span for lectures. He knows this.
And now? Seems I have some clicking to do…
Jamie -
Mark cannot just answer a simple question with a simple answer.
If I ask him something technical?
He answers that question, but then tells me a bunch of other shit and then takes advantage of the moment to remind me of some other shit he told me a few days ago that I have apparently forgotten.
Yeah . . . not listening.
Ahem.
I finally started telling my husband (Ethan) when he is wasting his breath. And yet he continues to talk. So I let him…with the understanding that when I need the knowledge he is currently spewing? He will need to repeat himself.
Yes, if it is important?
He will tell me again.
And again.
Kris?
Remember when you said “no tip toe?”
Maybe Mark should use those sharpies to remind you
ut oh!
HA
If Mark were to be crying when he told me these things?
I would pay more attention.
Ahem.
Maybe we should talk about techie stuff while we are having sex!
Not that Mark cries during sex.
He doesn’t, in fact, cry during sex.
But if he reads these comments?
He is going to kill me.
Hee hee!
Serves him right for being all ad-bossy.
So pfffttt to him.
Yeah.
yes good point
Crying is a much clearer indicator of “need to listen” than techie stuff……definitely more visible.
Waving “Hi Mark!”
Mark says real men don’t cry unless they are badly injured.
Or if someone eats the last Oreo.
I made that last part up.
But I did eat the last Oreo, and Mark is not happy.
On another note? I really love the cards. Her site is great! I am already working on a list of people deserving of cards that are fun, edgy and a little inappropriate.
Heee Heee
Oh, you are my new favorite kiss-ass!
I love you, sycophanty one!
Blow jobs, blow jobs, blow jobs, blow jobs, blow jobs, blow jobs, blow jobs.
Wait? Did you say anything else?
:)
Not according to Mark.
Ahem.
Also not according to me!
When people talk about filthy and obscene things, like money, I go to my happy place.
My happy place is innocent, clean and pure. It is a place filled with blow jobs.
That is a fucking awesome happy place!
And what is this new photo?
Also fucking awesome.
I am all ferocious! I was not in my happy place when this picture was taken. My husband will not put his penis anywhere near me when my teeth are bared in a snarl. Smart husband.
Yes, the husband is smart.
That is not a friendly mouth.
A lovely photo, but a scary mouth.
Snort!
You know of course I saw unacceptable advertising page and had to go see before I continued to read…
HAD to!!
HAD to! Had to! HAD TO!
Then I come back and find it works itself out to blow jobs being necessary for advertising.
I think that’s the way it’s been since time started and Adam noticed his penis.
‘Cause you KNOW Adam noticed his penis before Eve even gave a damn…
I like the inappropriate page… I think it’s funny.
M
I am inclined to leave the inappropriate Advertising Page up.
Weed out the G-Rated wussy-assed advertisers right from the get-go.
Mark is not all that pleased with me.
Tough.
I think it reflects very accurately the way you write… You could always title it the Inappropriate Advertising Page and see how many people go to look…
Something tells me Mark is standing behind you shaking his head at that…
M
Yes!
I do want advertisers to know what they are walking into.
And yes . . . Mark is shaking his head in despair.
Always good to know we can set him into despair…
TEEHEEHEE!!!
It’s yet another skill for your resume!
:-)
Oh, I have long had that skill.
I should so put that on resume!
Able to send men into a deep state of despair!
I am all super-powery!
Okay so I hit on both of your ads.
I was not inspired to give a blow job on the comfy bed one.
The other one opened to a really manic scary lady in a party hat that should only be on the front of a card you were sending someone you didn’t like, or possibly she had just given a blow job and was still feeling kind of slap happy ….
perhaps you should let your readers place ads instead – I never look like I just gave a blowjob … ever
Snort!
I will perhaps not include your commentary in my monthly report to the advertisers . . .
And here are some lovely reader comments about your products!
Snort!
Plus also?
It is impossible to NEVER look as though you just gave a blowjob.
Unless you never, in fact, give . . .
Oh.
Never mind.
You know I noticed the ads…
Because I am all kinds of noticey up in here…
I don’t have a Tech Support Guy… I am the Tech Support Guy. And I don’t know that much. So offering myself blow-jobs would do no good.
I’m screwed. I’ll never make any money off this blogging thing…
Hee hee!
Yes, that’s tricky.
You will need to develop both flexibility and a penis.
Oh but wait!
You’re screwed!
You’re all good, then.
Snort!
I really am screwed!
I am not flexible. Nor do I have the desire to develop a penis…
Maybe I need to bribe my Tech Support Guy with other things…
Hmmm..
Let me know what you come up with.
Mark is getting bored with my current payment system.
OK, that is not even true.
Mark adores the current system.
Hee hee!
Oh you can’t go wrong with blow-jobs for a man.
I’ve never come across a man who didn’t like/want a blow job…
I guess I need to bribe myself with food.
I like food. And food likes me.
Hee hee!
Me?
I am big on naps.
Seriously.
A nap is a great reward.
Oooo!
Naps!
Yes!
I need to bribe myself with a nap.
Maybe on some of the stuff from Beddingtons!
Pure Genius!
Hee hee!
I knew you would pick up the Beddington’s thing!
I know you.
Happy sighs.
Pretty All True is doing wonders for my vocabulary.
(Maybe a testimonial will help bring in more advertising dollars?)
That is an awesome idea!
I’m sure Mark is willing to type up a short summary of my oral skills.
Oh wait . . .
There are blogs that I read because they are people who I chat with on Twitter, email, read every day and who have become very real friends to me. Reading those blogs is like checking my email. I need to know what’s happening in their lives, with their husbands and children, etc.
There are blogs that I read because they take gorgeous photos, post recipes I wish someone would make for me, or tackle big important subjects.
Then, there are blogs I read because the writers do something amazing with their words. They draw me in, they tell me stories – even if not chronologically, day by day – they effortlessly choose words that captivate my attention and I’m inspired, both by the stories and the writing. Yours is one of these kinds of blogs to me.
And I tell you this as a long way to say that I don’t care if you sell advertising, sponsorships, your first born or your soul. I’ll read what you put on this corner of the internet. So quit worrying about numbers. Yours will be just fine.
And also, I mean this in the least suck-up-iest way possible. I hate suck ups. :)
Yes, well . . . I do not plan to write about my numbers or the advertising thing again.
Ever.
But I announced it was going to happen and so now I am pointing out that it happened.
And it bothers the hell out of me, even if no one else cares. I am all fucked up and stressed and issued-up over it. So I released that today.
And now I am done.
And I will move on. Promise.
So thank you for your support.
I needed to clear this out before I moved on in my mind.
Love you, sucky one.
Snort!
It would appear there is alllll kiiinddsss of sucking going on today.
Just sayin’.
Plus?
I vacuumed today.
Really.
So that’s just proof that today sucked.
A lot.