For some reason Bravissimo don’t consider my physique at all suitable to advertise their buoyant range of bras and glandular support devices – this despite my enthusiastic championing of all the marvellous work they do – and so my pleading to feature one of their banner ads on my web site fell on deaf ears. Even after I’d offered to do it for next to nothing.
Clearly their business brains are suffering from a poor blood supply. They might want to consider a cross-your-heart bra in future.
So I had reconciled myself to a life of non-monetary recompense for all my wonderful web work. I even turned it into a virtue.
Ha! Let others whore and sell themselves for baby wear lines and cholesterol lowering products. For me it is all about the writing. The written word. The art, my luvies, the art.
And then Marks & Spencer – or rather an advertising agency working for Marks & Spencer - approached me via email and offered to pay me $90 (yes, you heard that right: $90) just to feature a text link to their wine page on my main web site, pocketropolis, for a year.
Ha! I thought. Easy money if it’s kosher.
‘Cos I must admit I was a bit dubious about the payment actually being made. Despite my Willo The Wisp and fairy light demeanour (ahem) I am a cynical soul who wouldn’t so much look a gift horse in the mouth as give it a CT scan.
But – and this is what persuaded me – I haven’t updated pocketropolis in about 2 years. I’ve neglected it badly. It’s like a garden slowly going to seed. You know how it is – too many other pressing things to do; too many other creative projects, work, kids, life. But nevertheless this is where M&S and their advertising lackey wanted the link. Not on my blog (whose stats are looking so good they could be on a catwalk). But on my main web site that is starting to resemble a torched car left on a roadside in Essex.
Money for old rope then. (Hey, wonder if Bravissimo have ever thought about designing a bra made from old rope?)
So I added the text link. Not exactly in pride of place. And waited for payment.
It took a while. The old cynic in me began to hover its index finger over the delete key. All those prompt replies from the lackey when they were chasing me had stopped. I heard nothing for days.
And then just when I was about to give up the money arrived electronically.
Real money.
Just over £50 given the current crap exchange rate.
Shit. I’ve finally made money out of this internet thing. Money for nothing. My chics for free.
Easy.
And I don’t feel like I had to hack off a bit of my soul and hide it in an old locket for Harry Potter to find at a later date either.
It’s good. I think I have the bug. Now I want to make some real money. Big bucks. Amounts that would make a Swiss banker cry.
See, I have this idea for a web site... kind of a social networking thing where people can upload photos and tag people in them only I’ll assume copyright of all their images and then secretly deploy face recognition software which can be abused by third parties to identify everybody on the site and all of them can pay me loads of money to trample all over everybody else’s human rights...
Cool, huh?
Or do I need to hack off a bit more of my soul before I'm able to leap onto the Facebook bandwagon?
P.S. I was going to illustrate this post with a nice picture of a fulsomely filled bra. A rope bra. 'Cos it would fit the gag I made above. I typed "rope bra" into Google's image search.
Sweet Gee Zus. I thought I'd seen everything and could stomach about the same.
You learn something new everyday.
I need to start practising my double carrick bend.
It's a type of knot (in case you were wondering).
