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prophet
10/28/2006 = 08:53 AM

This is sort of an ad, but not totally, so if you stick through it, you will, eventually, get to what has actually been occupying my mind this week at the very end. 'Preciate your patience.

You probably have noticed that I've been writing a lot of what I call "splogs" — spam logs — lately. You'll also notice that I don't go out of my way to let you know when I do. That's because I'm not trying to bore you guys, I just want the money.

Which I am actually getting some of.

They will take referrals from me, so if you have a blog yourself, have a little spare time to write and post a handful of extra words every week or so, and are willing to sell your soul a little bit, go to www.BlogtoProfit.com and give them my email address (golfwidow, at gmail, dot com) in the referrer field.

They say they are most interested in blogs that have their own unique domain rather than shared blog services such as blogspot, livejournal, etc. I don't know whether "most interested" means "completely uninterested." I hope it means they would reserve judgment, but I think it pretty much means that they don't want you to violate any agreements you made when you registered for any of those services. Which is kind of good of them.

They send me a spreadsheet with a few URLs on it. I write something about each one, pasting the respective URLs into what I've written. I post them. I send back the spreadsheet, updated with the permanent links of my posts and the dates I've posted them.

They give me money.

Louisa May Alcott wrote things she did not believe, in unfamiliar-to-her, yet very marketable styles, in order to make extra money when she was starting out. She is considered one of the greatest authors of all time.

Stephen King sold a bunch of stuff to Playboy when he needed money for his kids' medical bills and antibiotics. You may not agree with me that he is a brilliant wordsmith, but you cannot deny his success.

I'll never be more than a hack, but I still feel like I'm not in the world's worst company.

And yeah, I'm writing stuff I don't necessarily endorse, but I read the sites, I try to explain what they're about, and I do, at least, try to present them in my own words, which is more than Louisa May Alcott ever attempted — her best sensationalistic fiction was done so closely in the style of just about every other sensationalistic writer of her time that, if you didn't know better, you'd think she was mocking them.

Maybe she was. She certainly laughed all the way to the bank.

How to tell the difference between a "splog" and a real post by me:

• I don't send out notifications when I splog.
• Splog entries are immediately closed to comment, as opposed to being on a time-delay. Blog to Profit is paying me — spam commenters are not. So they have to move on.
• I try harder to be amusing in the "real" entries.
• I'm not proud of the splog entries. I say I'm a whore, but really, I'm more like an exotic dancer, if you will. I sell my skill to make money; I use my talent to make myself happy. And I go to work at night to get paid, then I come home to you. There is a palpable difference in the "care level," if you will, of real endorsements (stuff I truly believe in) and paid ones (stuff I don't).

For those of you who choose to go away because I've sold my soul, I have to live with that.

< brutal honesty>
I'm not going to go into detail as to how I got to the point where that became, shall we say, necessary. Suffice it to say that I'm glad you have enough for everything you need, and I hope to be at that point myself someday. And I will miss you.
< /brutal honesty>

For those of you who stick around, I am making a serious attempt to keep at least a shred of my soul, so thank you for hanging in there and watching for the flashes of brain confetti that will burst onto the scene every so often.

For those of you who, like me, want or need a little extra money, again, the site address is www.BlogtoProfit.com, my referral email address is golfwidow, at gmail, dot com. I've given you more details in here than you're actually going to find on their site, I think, so you should be able to tell from here if it's something you'd be interested in trying even before you visit them. And very good luck to you if you do.

In case you couldn't tell by now, this particular post is not a lap dance for strangers, so on with my real thought for the day, and thanks for sticking around long enough to see it:

If you have a light-up, inflatable, three-foot-diameter pumpkin lashed down in your yard as a Halloween decoration, you might be a redneck.

If, however, said light-up, inflatable, three-foot-diameter pumpkin springs an air leak, which you then patch with duct tape, you have officially lost your "might be" status.

If you then add a light-up, inflatable, six-foot-height-standing-upright black cat to the tableau, behind the light-up, inflatable, three-foot-diameter pumpkin, in a position that suggests that the cat is trying either to make black pumpkins that cause bad luck when they cross your path, or orange kittens with triangular eyes, you might be my neighbor.

Trick or treat, yo.

Tags: Blog to Profit

drinking: hot tea
listening to: the wind howling. it is such an awesome storm outside
today's chore that i am postponing due to weather: professional manicure