If I were Oprah and had a T.V show, I’d totally give away a bunch of shit just like her. So, here goes nothing: a bunch of favorite things for Christmas this year. Except, I’m not giving anything away. If you have a Christmas list of people to shop for, here are cool and trendy ideas for kids, women, men, and that hard to shop for person on every list. All my favorite things come from Fancy.com. YOU MUST check it out.
There are so many trendy clothes for kids here including these awesome onesies that make great gifts for the new parents. For more gift ideas check out Trendy Gifts for Kids.
Need I say more? This naughty decal says it all. Everyone on your list needs a few!
Too cute! This bean bag chair thingy for small pets is the perfect home accessory.
Back in the day, social networking was simply called MySpace. Instead of photoshop, we introduced ourselves with music that defined us. That’s networking homies!
There were no fancy terms designed to amplify views or user engagement. Content Marketing was something the bigwigs of NYC did from nine-to-five. We logged on, stalked like crazy with advanced searching that was on point, then spammed the hell out of everyone with friend requests, and potential dates.
I’m pretty sure I was a rock star at age thirty-two, kickin’ it on MySpace. No joke, my son was ten at the time, he set up my account for me. OMG, he’s going to be a fantastic writer — my crazy antics have made it easy for that child (now eighteen), to fill journal after journal with notes for future Psych visits, and queries to book editors.
He was also a personal photographer for my online dating profile picture.
Facebook and Myspace collaboration would’ve been cool.
In less than 30 days, I’m turning 40. I know this because I started the countdown last week. I had this brilliant plan to turn my 40th birthday into an “Oprah-esque” viral phenomenon. But, like most of the ideas created in my head…..they’re still there.
You’ll want to contact me to plan your next party, I just know it. There’s a contact form following. :) Here are my ideas:
The Launch of Robin 4.0
In an effort to NOT turn 40 and to continue to live in the past; the party theme is “Prom 1993.” Yep, all guests will have to dress the part. Here’s what they might look like.
The theme song: Duh!
Hold on(For One More Day) by Wilson Phillips — Here’s a sample:
I’m linking a gift registry to the invite.
OF COURSE, I’ll be registering for diamonds.
And in lieu of gifts, we’ll be doing a canned food drive for needy families.
FYI: I qualify. Here’s my shopping list.
And finally……….. it’s a surprise!! SHHH!
So don’t tell her boyfriend. Old school, old ladies, on the verge of BINGO are about to bust-a-move in his garage. You know? Like back in the olden days.
Guess what I did today? Spent 3 hours designing an invitation for the Surprise 40th Birthday Party I’m throwing myself. Of course there’s a twist—the surprise is for my boyfriend who doesn’t know we’re having a party in the barn. I bet you’re dying to know the theme I chose, right? Well, the official theme title is still in development. The creative department for my Firm has been high on sugar for two-days straight and unanimously decided to release a solid lifetime of repressed anger, and despair about the horrible conditions of their lives. Honestly, 4th grade boys are bitches. I will offer a hint: A strict dress code will be enforced: 1993 Prom Attire Guess who found her custom made, hand-stitched strapless? Yep! This loser. On a side note – my mom is going to shit when she sees how well 20-year old fabric from Gemco holds up. Bonus points for this blogger for incorporating trending keywords into the invite. 1993 and Gemco are like #hashtag sensations. Emailed two content writers with a proposition to eliminate the middle-man, and partner up on a badass blog with direct links, and triple the spam fun. 853 word email…. no response… Copied and pasted that email into a MS Word Doc and lit up the grammar-check. Upon proofreading (LOL!) the email I realized I’d unknowingly shared my prediction about the future of content writing. Based on my expert level in the field of writing, a solid reputation, and a few previous blog posts bashing other freelance writers; I’m also predicting my prediction to be flagged immediately by the upcoming Danielle Steele writing prodigies, kickin’ it on G+. Felt like high-fiving Deepok Chopra for his guidance in perfecting phony spirituality. My prediction? Words are An Endangered Species —Content Writing Nears Extinction Authorities have been hard at work preparing for what they’re calling, “the worst infiltration of public school graduates” since the “kids” from 90210 finally graduated. Eighteen year olds can’t spell, understand how people look so different in real life, and have vision problems when trying to focus on printed media, thanks to text messaging, PhotoShop, 2″ screens, and SnapChat. Double bonus points awarded to this blogger for using a keyword that’ll automatically alert admin that the flag from Google do-gooders on this piece is legit. Isn’t That Ironic….. OMG, again…Alanis Morissette from ’95? Bring it…. Worked a couple of graphics into the blog to depict the cycle of content ———- end result was a Jetson-esque version of YouTube. Logged back on after the creative department passed out all over the living room at 6:47 PM. Thank you to the creators of time change! Kicked around this idea I’ve had to start a 40-Day Challenge to coincide with the upcoming 40th birthday. Realized I’m 10-days late to do what I wanted. 45 minutes into social stalking myself on 36 platforms, I dozed off and hit six buttons on the keyboard at once—ended up on a Twitter page for NaNoWriMo. In the words of the Canadian sensation who paved the way for hip-hop artists with her “dirty” lyrics and sexual implications:
An old man turns 98, he wins the lottery and dies the next day Well, isn’t that ironic, dontcha think?
It turns out I’ve hit the lottery in terms of irony; which never ceases to amaze me. After years of mocking those who follow “trending” topics and #hashtag fever; I took two minutes to read the premise behind this National event celebrated by writers all over. Turns out, words will never die, being a follower is cool, and today happens to be 30 days until my 40th birthday. Perfect timing to enter a writing event specifically designed to reduce the population of losers who can’t follow a dream. Sounds a lot like my idea: 40-Day Challenge to Get Head Out of Ass 40-Day Challenge: How to Cram 18 years of Procrastination into a Pinterest Project Quit Being a Pussy in 40 Days. Joined NaNoWriMo and right away emailed my excitement to a perfect stranger because all the people in my life think irony is a word I made up with my imaginary friend(s) while doing laundry one day. Copied and Pasted this email and it’s hitting the “blog” tonight. Realized I have no choice but to lie in the Hobbies tab of this new profile….. Prom theme just entered my head: Hold On For One More Day based on the hit single from the all female singing group, Wilson Phillips. It accurately depicts my inability to grow the fuck up. More irony? I’m pretty sure they’re making a comeback. I’ve chosen to send this post into cyberspace without visual content to attract readers, an affiliate link attachment, OR grammar-check. IRONIC of course if this post actually gets read. With my luck, this will be the one post out of 60 that my Facebook friends actually share. Fuck you irony!
This text message honestly happened this morning. Forgive me if it’s not the most hilarious thing you’ve heard in weeks; I don’t get out much and nine-year-old’s are totally NOT FUNNY. So, with that, I nearly pissed myself when I saw this:
Here’s your key:
My boyfriend will be referred to as “THE BF”
His brother will be referred to as “THE BRO”
Text Message arrives:
“THE BRO” What time is the soccer game?
“THE BF” 9
“THE BF” checks his phone, reads the next text, looks at me, pauses, reads it again, I yell at him, (“you’ve got time to read a damn text message but not enough time for a hug!! I’m a raging b*tch these days…FYI), “THE BF” gets flustered, wants to cuss at me, sends a response text, and then stares at me.
Hysterical laughing is coming….
“THE BF” is shocked, and manages to read the text history to me without laughing. Here’s what you missed:
“THE BRO”Received the letter ‘g’, need a number.
OMG… there are so many things about this that are funny!
Who talks like that–in all seriousness. “THE BRO” is commando!
“THE BF” was so confused when that text came in; it literally took him 4.5 minutes to get it. HAHAHA!!
Time for AT&T to update their font! Lawsuit!!
Speaking of upgrades, “THE BF” is the last man standing who still carries a flip phone-side-slide for texting—WORD!
Thank YOU for small moments.
“THE BF” NINE:30A.M
That’s not it folks; “THE BF” hopped into the shower, laughing, of course at “THE BRO.” The shower is a time for inspiration I suppose–after three minutes, “THE BF” bursts into the bedroom…..
“ROB! ROB!” (That’d be me), “I’m gonna text him back now!”
“THE BF”101 Dude….
“Get it, Rob? Get it? Instead of LOL, I sent 101!!”
Honest as shit!? I just received an email from “Apple” informing me of a security breach. GASP!! What do I do? What do I do? Calm down Robin!! Keep reading. Oh, phew! Click here. Thank God!
You haνe receiνed this email because our sγstem has noticed some susρicious actiνities with ΑρρleΙD ,all what you need to κeeρ enjoying all the benefits of your id is to confirm γour identitγ , follow the linκ below to start this ρrocess
If you’ve read anything I’ve ever written in the past, you’ll understand that I am not bashing the tactics of the fine young team of thugs; my beef is with the horrible (dare I say it?), grammar. Please note, once again, that I am not attacking the “misplaced comma” or the “horrible use of CAPITAL letters”—God, and spammers know, I’ve got no room to judge. I am attacking the idiotic MISUSE of words, and the slang that clearly implicates them as ridiculous fakes.
Kindly Ignore Me if I’m Offensive, BUT….
Oh yah…another indicator this was bullshit, (for the record, I didn’t need a second opinion), I’m a writer (air quotes). There was obviously a mix-up of email lists—The only Apple product I own is well, nevermind…man, I’m hilarious. (Please note from my highly technical graphic above)–I need nothing fancier than a kids tablet to get “work” done.)
If they really want to hook someone with a pansy-ass sucker punch, they need a new content marketing strategy. Why the hell hasn’t someone already pitched this idea? Damn writers! I’ll pitch my idea first (you can go next!):
I’ll pitch my idea first and you can go next!
Dude!!! Our bad!! You’re AppleID is all jacked up. Yah, I’m at the gym with my homies, working out ( I SOOO love sweating to Taylor Swift! LOL), when myApple-Nano-Redunculous-Retro-C573982-Customer-Service-Management-Device alerted me to a compromised situation occuring with your shit, dude. Here’s the dealio: You can click this button to confirm your identity, or me and my boys are gonna have to quit it at the gym early and hit the office for a total re-boot of your system. MAN!!! We were about to get down in here. J/K! Anyway, it’s your call.
Questions? Real Quick
1. Who the hell is in charge of the organized “Spamafia” group? This bullshit has gone on long enough. Here’s the email I received:
2. Who keeps clicking the damn spam links??? For real! In order for a scam to continue, it has to work—-> STOP CLICKING on the links! Stop it!
In addition to supporting a group of complete morons who should have spell-checker or grammar software by now, you’re making an entire group of people look idiotic!
In closing, I leave you with these thoughts.
Spammers: Use a stolen credit card and pay for a program. Duh!
People: Quit clicking the links. Duh!
Do you honestly believe tech support at Apple talks like this? Do you not think PayPal has a quality control department that proofs emails before they’re sent out? Do you STILL think your Internet is safe?
I’d like to gracefully dive back in as a writer who shares a unique voice, and a seat at lunch with Oprah; however, I’m belly flopping into content marketing and sharing a seat at lunch with the cool kids at every writing forum I can find.
Sometimes I wonder…. I can’t understand it, and I’ve said it before— I’m the hardest working broke chick I know. On the flip side-poverty has taught me: website design, visual design, content marketing, networking, WAY more about how GOOGLE operates than I should know, WAY more about nerdy shit then I should know, how to be a pimp and annoy everyone, how to properly index a site, how to rank a blog, how to beat F’book at their own game (just kidding, just kidding, don’t cyber-slap me Zuckerburg), how to spam like the brilliant Nigerian, and finally, patience. <—-oh wait, that’s the medication, not poverty.
Not sure if I’d rather have had knowledge or money to pay someone else to do all this…. I’ll let you know the verdict when I’m living large as a “Thousandaire” —-
In dealing with mental health problems, it’s natural to also deal with self-esteem and self-worth issues which I find more and more ironic every day. Statistics indicate a significant amount of writers and authors who produce brilliant work, are also inflicted with issues concerning mental health. My favorite list is one from Listal that details award-winning authors and their actual or assumed diagnosis. Jack Kerouac was thought to be schizophrenic, Kafka endured years of severe depression, and many others were diagnosed with similar ailments.
Here’s an article about famous actors with mental health disorders.
I’m a PIMP! Yes, you heard me. I struggle daily with my talent to produce words, with overwhelming feelings of poor self-worth, inadequacies, and self-esteem problemos! BIG TIME!
AND still…. I spend 5-8 hours a day pimping myself out to editors, social media sites, friends, family, and any damn person who’ll read something I wrote. I’m still baffled.
I’m too poor to hire someone so I pimp my writing out. A lot. My experience with pimping myself out has turned me into a modern day Madam—more commonly referred to as a “SPAMMER” — I admit it.
EVEN MORE ironic?
After intense pep talks with the friends living in my head (we need encouragement to “promote” my work), I become more depressed because of the obsession to check the stats on an hourly basis.
Like clockwork, I share a new blog on Facebook and almost ALWAYS immediately receive mobile notifications—“One friend ‘liked’ your new post.” My heart races, anticipation mounts….