An aspiring blogger writes:
Keep in mind, obviously you’re a stranger, and you’re just trying to get your own thing together, and you don’t owe me anything, but your work is an inspiration to me on a personal and professional level and I seek to emulate it in my own way! So feel free to respond or not respond, but hey, questions.
a) obviously, you have the very real problem of people you know in your real life “finding out” about your blog. How do you balance that? I read some things about you going on dates and being worried the girls wouldn’t like you once they’d read what you’d written about them, and about being concerned about the possibility of being fired by HR once they started tracking the sites you visited at work….I want to start a blog/monetize it, and have been worried about this same problem. So I don’t know how much actual advice you’ll have for me, other than “it is what it is”, but I wanted to know how you balance being authentic as possible in your writing and not burning bridges!!!!
My life is meaningless. I don’t care if it collapses. I hate working. I’d love to lose my job. I have no wife no girlfriend no children. No chance at any of those things.
When I wrote about HR tracking my shit I’d already been fired. Waiting to be replaced. I worked in in film & TV in a job I hated, a world I hated. But it was a marginally “creative” field so justified my being on Earth.
Nothing to live for now except that my death would hurt other people. Don’t take this to mean I want to die. I enjoy living. I took out the trash and yellow-crowned parrots flew over. A big flock here. I see them every morning over my office parking lot. I saw this same species in Peru, in the Amazon, at the clay lick at sunrise where they come to eat mineral salts. The seeds in the jungle are poisonous. The clay soothes their stomachs.
Someone stole a bunch of these birds from the jungle, drugged them, hid them in his pants on a plane. Sold them at some shady shop in Koreatown. People bought them as pets. At least two escaped and fucked. Now there are hundreds of them wild. They reconstructed a life they’d have had in the Amazon. Daily route covering miles. Dates grow here, pomegranates here. They live a long time. There’s hope for us all. When I came back in I had diarrhea.
b) you like wordpress? if you were starting over, would you still use wordpress? what site would you move to if you were going to start having the “ads” you were talking about?
You seem to think my shit is good (thanks) and I’m successful. I’m not successful. I don’t make money for this. No one reads it. I get laid from it once a year. I pay WordPress not to display ads on my site. If I didn’t there’d be a “chum box.” It would say You Won’t Believe How Gorgeous Honey Boo Boo’s Mom is after Losing 130 Pounds.
Honey Boo Boo’s mom did not lose 130 pounds. If she did she’d still look like they grafted pig skin on an orangutan skull. Honey Boo Boo’s mom lets hideous men fuck her children so she doesn’t have to be alone. Honey Boo Boo’s fat is a shield so a sour smelling ape from Arkansas who doesn’t shave his back or wipe his ass properly won’t stick a motor oil finger in her little bald cunt. Honey Boo Boo learned to get fat when she was four because her mother needs a man. Ads on your site will celebrate this person’s weight loss.
All online ads feed on stupid people’s celebrity worship. The money comes from channeling you to phishing schemes. Ads on The New York Times are like this. If you believe something you can’t make money from it. How could you say something true and put a lie next to it. No one will pay you for “content.” Liars in your niche will be flashier and louder than you. Any site with ads deserves no respect. Any writing for money deserves no respect. Get “monetize” out of your head.
c. how long have you been writing for?
Forever but I peaked in high school. My father was a pipefitter but I went to a fancy place. Lot of would be writers but my words had a life theirs didn’t. I won a prize and got a free trip where I got laid. They make millions now writing TV shows. New York Times essays about their kids on the side. I’m a 40 year old male secretary with a blog about beating off.
d) I want to learn about your self-marketing techniques, extensively, but obviously you’ve had to work hard for whatever knowledge you possess, so you just let me know what you feel like sharing, lol. Basically, you are under no obligation to mentor me unless you feel like it, lol, but I’m sure I didn’t need to tell you that.
I got popular in 2012 when I posted a joke review of Fifty Shades of Grey in the comments of Chateau Heartiste. He tweeted my review. He was part of a network of men’s sites that talked about fucking. Now they talk about how the Jew uses miscegenation and gay degeneracy to emasculate America. I disagree with this. But him tweeting my shit is more than I’ve done for anyone.
He had 6,000 followers. His tweet got me 3,000 views. Back then half your followers clicked a link. Now 1%. Too many ants swarming one piece of meat. The internet is dead.
After that people would post it on Reddit as their own off the cuff Fifty Shades thoughts. This happened whenever an ad for the Fifty Shades movie came out. Ten comments down someone would say you stole that from delicious tacos. That got me thousands and thousands of views. No one clicks from twitter. Everyone clicks from Reddit.
The next popular thing I did was copy pasting stuff from my OKCupid outbox into a post. I wanted it to be “100 OKCupid openers” but ran out. It blew up because men everywhere are looking for how to have sex. Most “PUA” material is teach a man to fish. Pay Real Social Dynamics three grand plus airfare to tell you how to harass Croatian strip mall shoppers. I gave the man a fish. My messages seem stupid unless you understand how dumb, boring and lazy absolutely all other men are, and women are far worse.
That post was viewed hundreds of thousands of times. The material was used millions of times. My friends would get the messages. Women would message me having gotten the messages to tell me I was an asshole for making messages men used. Every two days there’d be a Reddit thread. A girl saying look at this appalling message I got. Aka look how hard men try to go out with me. Ten comments down: he stole that from delicious tacos.
I was sleeping with a lot of girls from OKCupid. Writing a lot about OKCupid. Pre-Nazi misogynists regaled me as the king of online dating. Rich men paid me $200 an hour to write profiles. Sleazy PUA companies offered me jobs. One day Tinder existed and it was over.
Now there’s no marketing. I have 2,000 twitter followers. When I tweet a post it results in 79 views. If a post has the word “cunt” in the title about 1500 people will read it. If not, 1100. The same guy will comment “fag” every time.
I don’t know where the views come from. Less now than there were. Maybe because when you google me on a phone it leads you to some AMP page that reproduces my work. Or maybe no one reads my site.
The way to be popular would be to embrace the Big Internet War. Nazis vs. SJWs. But I can’t pretend to give a shit about transsexuals’ shitty video games. Depression Quest is good, yet Zoe Quinn is an irritating self promoting cunt. I’m a man without a country. I used to hate women but don’t anymore. My “allies” in that “niche” all went nuts. I can’t leech off their popularity. I can’t get away from being identified with them. It’s hard to say fat chicks are gross but can we leave the Jews out of it.
My first book sold 700 copies. My second book sold 100 copies*. My next book will sell some negative amount of copies. I’ll be paid in antimatter money that sucks cash out of my hands. I’ll get reverse pussy from it that pushes sperm back into my dick. I’m a total laughingstock. I could not fail any worse. But I still wake up early to type shit and leave blood on the floor. That’s what you should do too.
* Update- I was counting wrong, it’s 300.