To A Blogger Quitting Young

Someone once wrote "Blogging is mostly like pissin' off the back porch. Unless you're a 'celebrity blogger' of some species or another the enthralled blog-o-masses generally speakin' haint much gonna be interested in watchin' you piss off your back porch." Despite the poor vernacular and grammar, there’s a lot to the general concept there. Blogging has become the embodiment of that age-old philosophical question about an infinite number of monkeys, an infinite number of typewriters, and an infinite amount of time. Click that Next Blog button in Blogger and 99 out of 100 times, you will be presented with a steaming pile of feces. Or a warm bowl of piss.

That probably sounds cynical, but then again, there’s a metric assload of dreck populating Wordpress and Blogger, interrupted only very occasionally by a small niblet of something that is not shit.  Sometimes you find that nugget of goodness because everyone and their brother has a link to it from their blogs (which happen to consist of no original content at all, by the way) or you just get lucky and find the rare undiscovered gem.

It must be like how it felt to be a gold miner and find a new untapped vein.

Why have I waxed rhapsodic about blogging like this? I hope the answer is somewhat obvious, but I think I may have discovered a rare untapped vein of a gold-like substance in the proverbial pile of shit-encrusted hay. It isn’t pure gold, but there is enough golden goodness in it to keep a jaded old pisspot like me entertained for a few hours.

Dana is a young woman from America who has chucked her conventional life in favor of backpacking around Australia for six months. And at first, I was prepared to beat her to death with the nearest blunt object I could find, as I was met immediately by advertisements, no "Who I Am", no overt "What is this blog about", not even a link to a Blogger profile. Just a dull been-used-a-thousand-times-already template and an archive. I decided to tackle Dana completely chronologically and was immediately put to sleep with the tedium of reading about trip packing and preparations, or the lack thereof.

I almost quit there, sure I was in for a bout of tedium tremens. If this was going to be a blog consisting of lists, I wasn’t going to make it. I don’t care how many snarky comments are made after each packed item, this was not writing. But I take my charge here seriously, so I persevered.

And I am sort of glad I did. Once Dana reached Australia and ultimately left the city of Sydney, something shifted in her tone. Suddenly I was a participant on this trip. I was in the small towns and backwaters with her, living in hostels, couchsurfing, working odd jobs for food money, scratching alien insect bites, worrying about creepy old men (an odd sensation that, since, by troth, I am a creepy old man myself).

In all fairness, she did not make me want to leave the comforts of my lovely witness-protection-program home in the suburbs and run off to Oz and live the life of the bohemian, and there were enough instances of trivialities that mattered not to me or most others that Mark Twain and Bill Bryson need not fear losing their dominance of the travel writing genre to her.

But in the pile of shit that is the blogosphere, she was a breath of not-smelling-like-shit air. She was funny and appropriately self-deprecating. Yet she used enough description and background info that I never felt lost or confused. She wasn’t the world’s greatest writer, but she was a hell of a lot better than most bloggerers I have read.

...

Did you see what I just did there? I used the past tense, and not the present tense. She WAS funny, not She IS funny. Although Dana’s trip was meant to last till right about now (mid-summer 2010), her last posting was in March. A bit of a cliffhanger too, as she was just relating how she took a job in a town that was cut off from everywhere else by a bunch of floods. Which has me wondering what happened? What happened next? Why did she abruptly stop writing about it? Did something happen to her? Or did she just get tired of pissing off her back porch without anyone watchin’?

No one commented on any of her posts, except for herself. One gets the impression that her only reader was her mother, as she kept apologizing to her mother about her foul language.

So, I am reviewing a dead blog, but a blog that once showed great promise. And I don’t know where that leaves me. Smart lass, to slip betimes away from fields where glory does not stay...

Two stars. Minus one for being a quitter.



Note: This review was not due till tomorrow, but I needed to get it off my plate. So you get it a day early. All complaints can be written on a piece of jagged glass and rammed up your ass.

Mundane in Manhattan

One of the reasons that I’m not so good at this gig, and thus only turn up every few months, is that I hate being mean. I’m the nice professor here at the University of Colon. Bright eyed students flock to my course in Introductory Bootology because they know that with a vaguely plausible sob story they can earn an easy A.

So if you are Mandinka, author of Motherhood in NYC, you would have to be pretty happy about your luck. You got ‘The Nice Guy’ at Ask. Easy 4 Star review. Woo hoo!

But.

But, you got The Nice Guy on the wrong day. It’s been a long semester and I’ve given far too many A’s to far too many sub par aspiring bootologists. I’m in a bad mood.

Here’s the thing. I love Mummy/Daddy bloggers. I kind of am one. I respect the genre. I have a high tolerance for cute kids stories and the moaning of the stay-at-home Mum. I can relate to the trials and tribulations, dull as they are, of a parent. Hell, I’ll go out on a limb and say that I love parent blogging.

When it’s done well.

Mandinka, my dear, you don’t do it that well. Or you do it as well as the legion of Mummy and Daddy bloggers around the world. I have a handful of specific issues that I would like to discuss with you:

1. The Bloggess. I like The Bloggess. Her brand of neurotic/obscene humour is pretty original and fairly entertaining. But, there is a disturbing trend among a certain type of Mummy Blogger to try and be The NEW Bloggess. Stop it. She’s funny because it’s kind of her schtick. You aren’t because you come off as a try-hard wannabe. That goes for the rest of you that are pulling this crap. You know who you are.


2. Twitter screen captures. This is plague on the blogosphere. Don’t ever do it again. If people wanted to follow you on Twitter, they would. If they do, they’ve read these inanities. Most people are not interested in your ‘unfollows’ or what the hell ever you’re blabbering about on Twitter.


3. Advertising. Now, I’m tolerant of advertising. Like you, I run a self-hosted site and I feel justified in using a bit of advertising to recoup my costs. But fully forty percent of your site is dedicated to advertising. I suspect that if you could squeeze more in, you would. Do you really need two Blogher tower ads? Is one not enough? There’s a fine line between classy and trashy, darling. Find it.


4. Be fucking original. I will admit that I didn’t tread too far back into your archives, a few months or so. I got bored. The title of your blog is intriguing. Motherhood in NYC . This gal is going to tell us the gritty truth about raising kids in Gotham. She’ll either make us glad we don’t live there or make us wish we did. You do neither. You may as well be living in Orange County or Highland Park or Darien. I mean, a story about the GAP? Seriously? Do you know how writes a great site about parenting in NYC? This guy. And he lives in fucking New Jersey! You’ve got less urban cred than a suburbanite.
   
   Phew. I’m glad we’ve got that sorted. Look, you have a reasonable following. Good on you. Be grateful for that. You’ll get a bunch of traffic for a couple of days from this review; I’ll expect 10% of your advertising revenue as a finder’s fee. But what did you really think we were going to say about your site? Did you really expect to get an IFLY? You’re a Mummy Blogger and a very slightly better than average one (I mean, you can write in complete sentences). What more did you want?
   
   Because I’m physically incapable of handing out flaming fingers, you will be spared that indignity. So take this
   
   
   
   
   
   and be grateful you got me.

The Sham-Wow-ization of Our Lives

So I'm all excited because I'm asked to review a blog, which means that if it's an amazing yet underexposed blog I get to recognize it and let the world know. It's an amazing feeling. That's how Marco Polo must have felt! So I say Yes and wait for the link. And then I get this shit: The Sham Wow of the blog world.

I wouldn't say sites like these ruin blogs. It's like saying The Shopping Channel ruins television. Well, there's room on my TV for HBO, Comedy Central, Rachel Maddow, and Tova's latest scents, so what do I care? I've never bought anything from QVC and I never will.

But why did Amy ask to be reviewed? Just to get the added link? Just to get more people to visit her site and maybe buy some shit? Just for the chance that someone here mistakenly clicks on an ad?

Probably. But it's actually even worse than that. Amy is not just a harmless Sham Wow saleswoman. She's not another Tova. She's not the Video Professor. She's not Billy Mays, Alav Hashalom. See, unlike these people, power to them, Amy's giveaways come with personal stories. She's selling us water coolers while telling us about her elderly Nana. She's selling us some fucking towels while telling us how she was afraid her kid had H1N1. She sells us MOR shitty music while inserting some random family stuff: "My mom likes him, I like him, and even Lovie is pretty crazy about him. He's young but soulful, energetic but smooth." Like my butt!

Maybe it's me. Maybe I expect too much. Maybe I'm wrong to think that whoring the story of your child's H1N1 virus just to get a free set of wipes is evil. Not Nazi evil, just internet evil.

And you know, there's no reason to be too rough with Amy. It's not like she's trying, after all. You don't complain about the acting and the dialog on QVC, so why should I complain about this site? Good luck to you, Amy. I hope the freebies you get to write this shit fill your heart with joy and laughter, I hope Nana is okay, and I hope Lovie gets to see that dude play live one day.

(Oh, and of course you don't really care about this review--only about your ads. So I'm going to Make Mom Happy and click on some of the shit you're selling. You're welcome.)

My skeertuig is vol palings*

The other day a friend and I went to see "Julie & Julia," a sweet little film about a culinary giant and some girl who turned her whiny little blog into a book (and then into a movie). During the film, my friend turns to me and says, "Someday I'll say I knew you when you had a blog." I scoffed, "It doesn't happen like that anymore." And it surely won't happen to me and my sorely neglected little exercise in self-indulgence. But the thing is, as Madame pointed out recently, everyone and their mother and sometimes their cat has a blog now. The field is saturated and glutted and just overrun with folks wanting to be heard above the din.

But what's worse than all those mind-numbing and misspelled and mordant (although I kind of like that bit) forays into blogging, those wastes of space, those narcissistic little microcosms, are the ones who could be so much better but just aren't. Stu strikes me as one such.

He has the ugliest template ever. I wanted to click away immediately. The ads are sucking my will to live. It looks like a spam nest run over by a train wreck with gobbets of banality strewn across the pavement of the blogosphere. I mean, look: He made me use the word "blogosphere." Jesus lord, there are no dates on the posts! Where am I? Also, the whole shebang sometimes gets all wonky with the archives and crap moving under the post.

Just scrap it. It's total crap. It is a hinderance to your writing. It couches your blog in the most off-putting way. Find something simple, roll up your archives, get organized, and for shit's sake put a date on your posts. Stu, you don't need a tab for "blogging." The whole blog should kind of be for that, right? And that header image? That's the header image of a total douchebag.

Stu, your title is so annoying I want to rips its wriggling little guts out. I mean, fuck me sideways, there are ellipses in the title. In the title! I hate it on principle. And merit. And anything else I can hate it on.

But go check out his "About" page, which is really just his Blogger profile (dude -- don't do that). He sounds interesting, right? Ninjas, the word "hogwash," Aston Martins? Well, you never would have guessed from looking at his shit storm of a blog.

Guess what? A "belter" is apparently a hot chick. Just FYI. Learn something new every day. I thought it had to do with people who can really belt out a song, like maybe Babs. But no. Hot chicks. How original. Although I'm pleased to report that the brunettes seem to outstrip (that might have been a poor choice of words -- or a perfect one) the blondes.

Something else I learned? South Africans say "y'all." I can't quite wrap my head around that.

Look, the guy's entertaining enough and he's kind of funny, but do I really need to read another site where a guy drools over hot girls, hot cars, and moderately funny things posted elsewhere on the web? No. No, I don't. And neither does the rest of the world. It's not until about three months into the blog that we get an actual post with more than a paragraph or two from Stu without a picture of a hot car or a bikinied babe or something pilfered from somewhere else. And, you know, aside from some sloppiness and ellipses overkill, it's actually amusing.

Stu, Stu, Stu... cut the crap. You're an amusing guy and your voice is engaging, but you lose me with all the extra nonsense you pepper into your blog. It's useless, overdone, and it completely undermines your genuinely likable writing. You can do better. Strip it down, tune it up, and get real. I stopped reading after about four months because I had to wade through all the flotsam and jetsam of Internet wreckage to get to YOU. And you're lucky I got that far.

You get a flaming finger because you are failing to live up to your potential and your template sucks hind tit. Clean it up, start actually writing, and I might reconsider. You've got something -- you're just hiding it. Stop.






*My hovercraft is full of eels. (Afrikaans)

I Wish This Fucking Day Would End

This isn't his first time guest reviewing here at Ask. Ghost of Keywork, lovingly referred to as Gok around these parts, probably finished having any firsts about the time he was fifteen. According to his mom he's a whore, but whores of a feather flock together and somehow he crossed starry paths with our favorite hooker and they'll be heading down the aisle pretty soon to make it official. Sure he's gone private, but if you want to get a load of the goods, you might want to ask nice and bring lots of lube. - Miss Missives

Hello, I believe we all know who I am. I won't lie, this review is rather short and to the point. I don't know anyone like today's blogger, and after reading his blog, I'm glad. Really, it is that bad. Before I dig into my next victim, go here and have a laugh. Because there is absolutely no humor to be found anywhere at A Day In The Life. Monday's post was the closest that you came to making me contemplate laughter. Seriously, dude, you've been going at this since 2003. Obviously, blogging is not your thing, stick to graphic design. I have friends that work in your field, and they are, for the most part, funny. Entertaining even. I wish they would blog. Sadly, they don't, and you do. Thanks. Ok, let us get to your journal. Tell you what, let me show the good people why you should never post again.


Exhibit A: Enthralling!


Exhibit B: Captivating!


Exhibit C: Oh, Fuck, I Can't Fake It Anymore.


Look, I'd love to know what you did yesterday, but you can't be bothered to give me any fucking details. So, fuck you. No, really, fuck you. Your template is pathetic. So is mine, but my writing more than makes up for it. The only thing your writing does is make everyone feel better about their writing. Again, you have been getting away with this spineless shit for a few years now. Stop. If you want to put your spin on the news, then fucking put your spin on it. I don't want to waste any more time than I already have, so I'm going to lay it down right now:

If I were on fire, burning to death, and you had more than enough water(I'm likening your blog to life-giving water) to extinguish me, I would pay you to take your water(blog) and go fuck yourself. I would rather die in an entertaining fashion than run the risk of living after being exposed to your boring fucking water(blog). Seriously.

Oh, get rid of the ads, shorten up your blog roll, fix your goddamned archives, and hire someone else to write for you. Here are two things that I will now address, from your blog:

This. Yeah, God really has it in for you. Look, a funny raccoon post. What? My blog is being reviewed by a dead raccoon? Fuck. Yeah, you didn't do yourself any favors by posting that lolcoon. The post was fine without it.

And this. What, I didn't link anything? That's right, I didn't. On your blog, you have a link that I can click on to donate money for 'all the work you do around here'(referring to your blog, I assume). This was the icing on your boring cake of a blog.

Please, cut off all your fingers and stay away from the internet. Can we make that a new rating?

The Mayor of Simpleton

Miss Missives would fashion a guess that most of us have an aunt who is always sending this sort of thing via email. I would bet it's pretty safe to say that nearly all of us have worked somewhere with the crazy cat lady that posts these frequently. How about the uncle that is replete with forwards of the scatological variety, with an occasional smattering of jug jokes and other novelties. Now throw in that odd girl you went to high school with but never really talked to who found you on Facebook and now regularly forwards you this kind of stuff so you know which board game she is. Now imagine all of these people, coming together to form the single, greatest collection of email forwards ever, in one place, for your enjoyment.

Oh my, oops is right Amy because this has to be an accident. I dove deep into the archives on this one dear readers hoping that Amy started this blog in earnest but perhaps became overwhelmed with the skill and time required to actually write so started posting this blather. Sadly, this one was a bad seed from the start.

Usually a good thing when it comes to blogging, Amy posts frequently, in April alone she posted 218 entries, an average of seven per day. Granted, she's mostly uploading but still, who really has time to do all this? Likewise, how much time does she spend actually searching for it all? Above her profile is written “Meet the Author.” Author? Really? Amy, that's a bit of a stretch isn't it dear? I don't think reposting Lolcats makes one an author.

What is it about people selling insurance that robs them of a genuine sense of what constitutes funny? Is it perhaps because when your in a room full of other insurance people, you get a big head because you are “the funny one” of the group? Maybe you are but that's like being the smartest kid in special ed, your still in special ed right? Clearly, with regard to blogging, the new rule is, if 'funny' is found anywhere in the title or description, it's not going to be funny.

I'm not even going to get into the perversity of ads all over the site. Amy, there are far more honest and respectable ways to earn a living dear. For instance, you could become a telemarketer, start your own pyramid scheme, bilk old ladies out of their pensions or learn to shoot ping pong balls out of your lady business.

Now I bet you're going to say, Miss Missives where's the artfully delivered constructive criticism you are known and loved for? Let's be honest with each other Amy, you didn't really come here to be reviewed because 99% of your material belongs to someone else. What you want is traffic, more click throughs, a few more votes for best comedy blogger, and to sell some t-shirts at cafepress.

Amy, you post things that most of us summarily delete from our inbox, the only thing that makes this a blog is that you have a template, a rather ugly one at that. This is a repository for lame forwards. It feels like is an old lady's drawer of 'humor' clippings from Reader's digest and McCall's. No one cares what board game you are, or what breakfast cereal you are, or even what utensil you are .

This site is soulless and the furthest thing from funny.

The One Where I Don't Swear

I usually find meta-criticism to be about as useful as peanut-butter on a pool table, but when it’s me taking a photo of a photo, I think it’s a brilliant endeavour. Reviewing a blog that does reviews of its own? Let’s get in there amongst the gristle and bone and delve into the art of critique; let’s get down deep and dirty to the heart of it, the epicentre of analysis, and see if we can’t fish out some...

Wait, what’s this?

Y'know what makes me laugh? The fact that someone out there decided to name their cellphone company Virgin Mobile. VIRGIN Mobile. The company, and all its phone citizens, have never....well, you get it right?

Oh, no.

There are soooo many things I hate in the world. And since I have about two whole hours of Internet time, here are some of them, courtesy of my brain. Don't be mad if you're not included; I still hate you, I just can't list the PEOPLE I hate because I hate everyone, until they prove themselves worthy of my liking that is.

Omigod.

I hate the dentist. Why would you allow a stranger who you never met stick their gloved hands down their throats and scrape at their pearly whites? I'm ready to bet money that the so-called "dentists" are gonna find a "cavity" and "take it out" in order to get some more cash from my mom.

Look, I’m going to be completely honest with you here, whoever it is that is authoring Hazardous Material: you’re fifteen, maybe sixteen; I am going purple holding my profane tongue so as not to be accused of contributing to the delinquency of minors, and you’re not making this very easy for me. Here, let me show you what I mean:

I've been watching a lot of the 08 Olympics in Beijing lately. Every morning I tune in to see what's going on in the fantastic world of sport events, and I'm particular interested in swimming. It has been mostly focused on Michael Phelps, a fellow American who holds plenty of records, one I think for most gold medals. As I watching one day my mom pointed out that he has big feet, so I put two and two together and realized that his large feet help him swim faster than most others. Like flippers, haha.

Now, I’m not a writing teacher; I’m an incredibly insensitive, incandescently irritable sometime-blog reviewer who spends a little bit of his time focusing on the writing of blogs I am set to review. That, up there above that I’ve quoted from your Olympics-piece? It is terrible, and a good example of how spell-check only catches words that are spelled incorrectly – you still need to read the thing over before you hammer that "publish" button – and a stark reminder that there is a massive gulf between "commentary" and "typing words into a blog".

I’m going to assume that you’re still in high-school, and I’m presumptive enough to suggest that you really listen to your English teacher. I mean really listen; take notes, ask questions, ponder, ruminate, cogitate, give yourself the benefit of forethought and actually work through a piece before you post it instead of shoving whatever comes to mind out onto the interweb.

You need to think about what you’re writing and why anyone would want to read what you’ve done, who your audience is, because other than those less-than-stellar attempts, you’re just regurgitating things you’ve read elsewhere while jamming YouTube videos into your posts. It’s the equivalent of having a diary and filling the pages with stickers: what’s the point? Get a sticker book.

I abhor an ad whore.

It's beginning to look like Old Home Day around here. Picket Fence is a blogger who has several of our former victims on her blogroll. Fortunately, they're the good ones - for the most part, so I give her marks for good taste. My blog isn't there, but what can I say. Even I admit that I suck. But then again, I'm not up for review, either.

Unfortunately, she has ads on her sidebar that are front and center. Move your profile information up and get that other stuff out of my face. Roll up your archives, that will save you inches of sidebar.

Those to whom you have linked in your blog roll, get a listing which includes their last posts, date and time which those posts have been published. That's an awful lot to list, don't you think? Maybe get rid of the time line and just list the post names and the site address.

Consider reducing the number of your own posts on your front page. Seven? That's very busy. Especially when you tend to go long. If you're good enough, people will munch up your archives to get more.

Your template is easy on the eyes, but your site resizes when I load each page in Firefox. Check your site in Firefox and see if you get what I mean. It's fine in Explorer. Notice how I didn't mention any bodily excretions when describing your template. That means that I like it.

The writing is nice, but I am just not hitting a groove here. I am sure Ms. Picket has lots of followers, but I'm not one. Not yet, anyway. She writes about her day to day stuff and it goes on quite a bit. She tries to be snarky, bit it's not happening. Ramp that attitude up if you want us to feel the love. Hit us with some good stuff. I can tell it's there, but you're hiding it well. Pick a topic, embrace it, enhance it. Dazzle us with your writing and then stop.

Get rid of the ads, sweetie. Set an example for the rest of the blogosphere, you don't need those ads. I am sure you could make more money from a well-placed lemonade stand. Good work, make it better, I'll be watching.



For the record, one star just means you didn't suck. Aim for three or more. You've got it in you to do better than this.

Auntie Meh'm

Cardio Girl, is apparently 19% body fat. I have her beat! I am 30% body fat and probably headed for forty, so back off, sister!





Cardio girl uses sneakers to show her mood. Different colors and patterns for different moods. Whatever floats your boat. It does fit into her theme of exercise, but, how does a yellow Ked express amusement? I know what red five-inch heels say; but to me, a yellow sneaker says you stood too close to the telephone pole while walking the dog. Not very amusing, now my toes are soaked. I get that it's part of your shtick, but it's overused in your blog, reinvent yourself.

The first blog entry that I read was about her using a device to pluck excess body hair. Ow. She said it hurt like mad, but at the end, recommended a similar device that pulls 30 times as many hairs at one time and I thought, lady, you need to visit this site. Then I looked to the right panel and saw a Google ad touting the exact same plucking torture device. Apparently, Google ads scan your content and target their ads to jive with the reader. Oh baby, you just lost me. Don't pimp your blog. Especially, don't go there when you're up for review.

Content? Just the same old, same old. Like 50,000 blogs that I have stumbled on in the past. Not great. Not spectacular. Average. There are no thought evoking themes, no gut wrenching tragedy (probably lucky for her) just the day to day stuff. She tends to write very long posts. Trim that way back.

Not that her writing is horrible, but Reader, if you find something that really stands out, you link to it, I got tired of looking to be thrilled.

What about the template? It's white, it's geared to promote ads, sell t-shirts and it helped lull me to sleep while reading her entries. It's like the singlewide mobile home of templates. It has no sense of style. She has tabs, but they are under-utilized.

Cardio Girl, you have a long list of categories and archives, big ads, small ads, ads on the left, ads on the right. I sound like Dr. Seuss for cripe's sake. Chick, all you're missing are some Twitter transcripts. Ditch some of that stuff, unless it's the money that you want. If you want our eternal respect, write more compelling posts, measure your words and make your money elsewhere. Roll up those archives and categories into drop down boxes and trim back some of your gadgetry.

Here's my synopsis: Mediocrity at it's best.

and more .

Let's throw in a double spanking for her daily abuse of a sneaker:




But you get high marks for working out. God bless your fat free butt for that, keep at that and start inspiring us, instead of boring us. Come back in a year and let's see how you've grown.

You don't have to put on the red light

I am all for prostitution. Really. You wanna make a little money from your money maker? Have at it. Be safe. Save your money. Stay away from pimps. Don't fuck my fiance, and we're all good. And if you have a blog, let me read it. Because you fascinate me.

But when it comes to whoring out your blog, that gets my dander up. Sell your body, but don't sell your blog. If I see ads and pay-per-posts and ad networks, I'm going to sneer at you for being a mercenary little bastard trying to wring every last drop of money out of the internet. And then I'm going to click away. Fast.

Today's blog has been pimped the hell out: Lofty Matters.

I'm not convinced this is an actual submission. I left a comment requesting verification but haven't received a response. I'm betting this is the work of our phantom submitter because I find it hard to believe someone with this type of blog would willingly offer themselves up to us for sacrifice.

But, much like Love Bites, I'm going to post this review anyway because the world needs to know: whoring your blog is a sin and you're going to burn in hell! I'm going to get myself a megaphone and a badly drawn picket sign and stand on street corners fighting the good fight against the moral depravity of spreading your blog's legs for remuneration and spreading filthy, nasty diseases like adverticankers and pay-per-pustules. Demons will carve Google ads into your ass for all eternity.

This isn't a blog, it's a paid programming channel. And when the blogger isn't shilling for someone she's posting this. Because apparently people might not know what day it is. Or something. And this. Two words. Well, I've got two words for this blogger: "get real." And "bite me."

Blogging, to me, is personal. It's intimate. There's a conversation between the blogger and the audience, a shared space. We let you in. Blogging is not Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman" saying she won't kiss on the mouth. Bloggers give tongue, man. Or they damn well should. But this? It's flat, soulless, empty, sold out.

I know nothing about this blogger because she doesn't share. Even her About Me page is empty. Oh, there are words, but they tell nothing. The most telling part of the blog is I Disclose.

Look, Rambler--if this is real, if you actually did submit your blog for review--here's some advice. Stop with the ads and pay-per-posts. They rob your blog of any validity. By letting your blog be a platform for commercials and greed you become completely unreliable. Aside from that whole selling your soul thing, your blog needs guts. It needs you: your opinions, your thoughts, your experiences, your mistakes, your laughter.

Otherwise, what can I get for $20?

I like a fat boy

They make a hell of an ice cream sandwich, and I do dearly love an ice cream sandwich.

However, fatboy magazine, I do not love you. Nor am I going to link you. Can you guess why? Let's think about it for a moment. You have a splash page ad that is so vulgar that the person originally assigned to review your blog couldn't even view it on her computer.

Now, I like me some vulgarity. I love sex. I like porn, even. I'm just a dirty, dirty girl. In fact, I tend to think that's one of my better qualities.

But you, and others like you who want us to "review you" just so you can get hits on your prepubescent piece of crap blog and ostensibly make money?

Y'all can fuck off. So, I'm not giving you any linky love (this is called withholding), and I'm not looking at your blog. And, for others out there of your ilk, submit to us, and you'll get the same. Which is probably what you are getting in the sack these days, a big fat nothing.

Capiche?

Lawrence, we're going to need considerably bigger buns

It's Friday, and I'm working at home while watching a movie. One of the best things about working at home is being able to wear sweats and a baseball cap, without heels and a skirt. Goddamn, it's so much nicer.

Madame Huff, you're just lucky you caught me in a good mood. I'm not even joking here.

First off, Karen, you are revealing way too much about yourself here. As chief safety officer, you should be aware that teh internets, they are full of freaks. And I'm not even talking about Balls, Nutjobber, or Ryan here. Please don't put this much about yourself "out there." Just not a good idea.

About your template. You've been blogging about a year now, semi-regularly for the past couple of months. Your sidebar should be listed in the following order, top to bottom, for optimal use by readers:

1. Profile
2. Archives
3. Links
4. Ads (if you must, do you really think you're going to make money this way?)
5. Pay per post crap

I see so many "fake" blogs these days, for the sole purpose of generating ad clicks, that if i see an ad on the top, I almost automatically click --- AWAY. Please, stop with it. Secondly, take the two paragraph long description OUT OF THE HEADER of your blog, and put it into your "about me."

The template is pretty, I have no real objections to it, but if you really want to increase readership, you have to do two things. First, start building your blogroll of blogs you read, and who read you. Comment on other blogs, and introduce yourself. You will make friends and get more readers.

Secondly, you must focus on your content. Most of your posts are reposts of e-mail spam, and while they don't totally suck, they are also far too long, and they are the blog content equivalent of styrofoam. This post hcould easily have been broken into five separate posts, over time. The first story, while poignant, could have been greatly enhanced had you posted that short blurb, and then MADE IT PERSONAL. Why did you choose to post that e-mail? What did it mean to you? What did you hope your readers would learn? How has the experience of relating to all people, at every level, changed you? When have you had a similar experience. For the record, I think most of these "stories" in this e-mail forward you've posted here are false and added in just for effect.

Successful blogs don't just repost e-mail spam. They connect the reader to the writer on a PERSONAL level. They are, in essence, a personal journal, that tells a story that engages us.

At present, Karen, you are just regurgitating your daily events with no real emotional hook, and reposting e-mail spam. If you want readers, you have to do more. You have to WRITE.

Let me give you an example from a blog you read. Do you see how REAL it is? How it lets us live inside of her head and experience exactly what she was feeling and thinking? That's what a REAL blog does...

And, if you're going to blog, please do this. For the love of God.

If you do it, though, they will come. The readers, I mean. You don't have to do anything hokey, you don't have to do pay for post, you don't have to do anything but just BE REAL.

Oh, and take a couple of hours to watch Calendar Girls, which will help you get in touch with your own 49-year-old inner exhibitionist.

For now, I give it a . But, I'm going to suggest that you resubmit at a later point.

Get Thee To My Toilet!

Sometimes, there are blogs that I feel shitty about just not liking at all. I know you find this hard to believe, but it's synonymous with that individual that everyone loves and you would much rather shove their head in a toilet and flush repeatedly than actually exchange in conversation with them.

It's not hard to believe that I have tons of people who are toilet flush worthy.

And, that brings met to Bonnie Writes. There's just something about this blog that irks the fucking shit out of me. It might be the Google ads, it might be the money making content button, it may be the second, third, and fourth round of Google ads in the left column, it very well may be the fact that there is so much fucking shit in her left and right sidebars that I have to resist the urge to swear uncontrollably and push the cute red "x" button. I'm thinking it's a combination of all this.

I've said it before and I will say it again: BLOGGING FOR PROFIT IS ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY STUPID. It defeats the purpose of blogging, it's completely tacky, and did I mention it makes the blogger look like a money grubbing whore? It's one thing to have Google ads, but this woman takes the profit seeking to a whole new level. The woman has sponsors, for Christ's sake! She's like the Yankees of the blog world-those that love her love her, those that hate her think the money involved is absolute bullshit.

Along with that, the template is horrific. I have nothing against purple, per se, but talk about fucking overkill! I also hate the fact the entire template is left justified. I tend to think things should be centered [via floating, should you really care] so as to maximize the space in the browser. I'm also not a fan of the three column blog. It can work, but when both columns go down almost as much as the content? Not possible.

The content is decent, at least.

I give it at for all the money making bullshit. I think she's outdone every blog we've seen to date in Google ads alone.

For the content, I give it a . I really wanted to like this blog, I did. I just can't. So, if she would kindly stick her head in my toilet, I'll get to the flushing.

Attack of the Spam Blogs from Hell

Do you ever get ad-spam in your blog e-mail inbox? Well, the blog I was tasked with reviewing today is the equivalent of blog spam. It is sponsored-post after sponsored-post, which in my opinion is a trend that is fucking KILLING the blog phenomenon. It is ad after fucking ad. It is two sidebars full of advertisments surrounding posts promoting products I have no interest in.

It is literally incomprehensible to me WHY IN HELL anyone would read this.

The blog is from malaysia and was set up solely for the intention of making money. This person doesn't want a review, he wants hits and a link so he can try to make more money. I think that is the absolute antithesis of what blogging is about. As a crabby bitch from hell, I have to say the following:

Chapree Du Grande...look elsewhere for ways to promote yourself. I'm not linking you. And, as a trend, pay per post sucks. And you can go fuck yourself. HARD.

bleh.

I give this blog, and every other "make money by blogging" piece of shit spam blog out there a million fucking flaming fingers. I hate you people. HATE, HATE, HATE.