Ra Get Rich Quick!
Tuesday 6:00 p.m.
Are you there? Jack the Spam Robot? Are you there, Jack?
Nobody visits anymore, Jack. If I wasn't writing this blog, I wouldn't visit it either. But maybe we should just stay like this and be glad that it's quiet. Just keep a straight record with no embellishments. They're all flatheids anyway and almost none of them will get ra bliss because they don't meditate. Can you believe that, Jack? The nicest thing we can say about them is that they are indeed unfortunate creatures.
Someone going to college decided to make some money and set up a million pound advertising webpage. He sold the pixels, whatever they are. And he's not going to college anymore.
My problem, Jack, is that most of the folk I know are too old. I don't need a literary agent. I need a manager. One under twenty years old would be good. A kid who likes technology and things. One who doesn't mind working his butt off for thousands and thousands of pounds a week. You have to go and find this person, Jack.
You've got the set. It's to look like a cave, but not too much. Any old Santa's grotto would do. I just sit surrounded by toy penguins and such like. There is a webcam of some kind. You have to have contact with the punters so you'd need .... whatever they use for porn sites. I'll be the whore, but all I'm going to do is sit there. Bid for meditation time. Have your name stuck up on the site for the duration. Meditate for anything. Dead goldfishes, lame horses, it doesn't really matter. Maybe you could type answers to folks' questions. Whatever.
Anyone who thinks this wouldn't make a fortune is a total flatheid. How much would the initial investment take? I could pilot it over my summer holidays.
Of course, I'm too blissed to be bothered! What I should do is write my book more and stop wasting time blogging! My book, which I'm supposed to be writing just now, is going very well, by the way. What I should do is publish it myself and sell it from the cave page! Essentially, the story of how I got to the cave. And didn't have to go to work tomorrow!!
11:50 p.m.
I have a wonderful job. It would be better if I was a wonderful person.
My maw and I talk a lot about poverty, the like of which we do not see anymore. 1930s Scottish poverty. She asks why people complain. There must be a dissatisfaction default. I complain. Dearie me. If I can complain, anyone can complain. I'll have to think of something to complain about.
Are you there? Jack the Spam Robot? Are you there, Jack?
Nobody visits anymore, Jack. If I wasn't writing this blog, I wouldn't visit it either. But maybe we should just stay like this and be glad that it's quiet. Just keep a straight record with no embellishments. They're all flatheids anyway and almost none of them will get ra bliss because they don't meditate. Can you believe that, Jack? The nicest thing we can say about them is that they are indeed unfortunate creatures.
Someone going to college decided to make some money and set up a million pound advertising webpage. He sold the pixels, whatever they are. And he's not going to college anymore.
My problem, Jack, is that most of the folk I know are too old. I don't need a literary agent. I need a manager. One under twenty years old would be good. A kid who likes technology and things. One who doesn't mind working his butt off for thousands and thousands of pounds a week. You have to go and find this person, Jack.
You've got the set. It's to look like a cave, but not too much. Any old Santa's grotto would do. I just sit surrounded by toy penguins and such like. There is a webcam of some kind. You have to have contact with the punters so you'd need .... whatever they use for porn sites. I'll be the whore, but all I'm going to do is sit there. Bid for meditation time. Have your name stuck up on the site for the duration. Meditate for anything. Dead goldfishes, lame horses, it doesn't really matter. Maybe you could type answers to folks' questions. Whatever.
Anyone who thinks this wouldn't make a fortune is a total flatheid. How much would the initial investment take? I could pilot it over my summer holidays.
Of course, I'm too blissed to be bothered! What I should do is write my book more and stop wasting time blogging! My book, which I'm supposed to be writing just now, is going very well, by the way. What I should do is publish it myself and sell it from the cave page! Essentially, the story of how I got to the cave. And didn't have to go to work tomorrow!!
11:50 p.m.
I have a wonderful job. It would be better if I was a wonderful person.
My maw and I talk a lot about poverty, the like of which we do not see anymore. 1930s Scottish poverty. She asks why people complain. There must be a dissatisfaction default. I complain. Dearie me. If I can complain, anyone can complain. I'll have to think of something to complain about.
posted by Hotboy at 6:03 PM
4 Comments:
I think you're right that you could simply adapt the same software that the nude webcam women use. This is your best idea yet, a serious winner, just two things you need to do:
1 - check that nobody's done it already. That college student wheeze will only work once, and the same probably goes for the sponsored meditation site.
2 - stop writing and blissing for now, and go find someone who can set up the site for you. I'm not teaching Web Programming, otherwise I could set it as a student project. I can ask around after I go back to work next week. You might need to remind me.
I almost forgot to tell you - I was talking about you over at Nanbugg Castle, can you clarify how you get to work?
Also, I've responded at my place to your interest in my Aunt Ina. It should help.
Adolf! Zeig! I leave here when the clock says half seven. Two buses and forty minutes later I'm surrounded by young people. Hope this helps! Hotboy
HB - Understood.
Sorry, Ina died last century, a few years after my namesake her hubbie Uncle Robmcj. Interesting? I thought not.
I trust your weekend has started well, and that the sobriety is paying off blisswise.
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