After a few days of frustration in trying to format/upload/preview my book to online retailers and then try to send them my bank info so they’ll know where to direct all those best-seller ebook funds (sideways glance) from the impending mega sales of my memoir—details to follow—I decide to take a breather.
I drive around town delivering posters that announce Pre-Order Now! even though there wouldn’t have been any way to order at all until I sorted out the aforementioned accounting and formatting technicalities.
Since few will see the posters I put up right away, I say to myself (out loud), If no one is going to see these brilliant works of art (thanks Studio Ei8hty8), then why the hell did I pay a small fortune to have them printed—on 100% recycled paper, I might add—and why am I driving around wasting expensive petrol and polluting the damned planet?!
The answer is simple: I’m a (semi-)narcissist and someone might see one! (Actually, someone did—Yay, Tom!)
Anyway, my posters have the new URL to this blog (naughtypottyblog.com), and I’m worried brick-and-mortar retailers may be mortified to put up such trashy text so I target the likely more open-minded, or at least those with coffee-consuming, curious patrons: espresso shops.
I know a lot of people from my former professional days and, even though I know sex sells, baby, I also realize that despite a lot of vendors being easy-going, light-hearted, funny-bone friendly, these posters directing their public to this blog might not jive with what they think their customers find acceptable.
I ponder…
Next scene: The Romance Store. This is an acceptably named adult store selling adult toys and adult entertainment for grown ups who not only know sex sells but are busy loading up their baskets with sex enhancement stuff! (It puts the lotion in the basket? ¹)
This store manager will post my poster. They may even sell my print books (if I do them—the print book, not the manager). And they will sell me this cute-as-ever-hot-pink-with-butterflies-that-match-my-book-cover vibrating rechargeable device! If this isn’t a sign from You Know Who, what is²??
I’m smiling ear to ear as the romance hostess demonstrates how quiet it is. Very. And how flexy it is. Very. And how with only $99 all my problems will be solved. Uh, sure.
Let’s see, based on the commission the store will take on the sale of my books, I only need to sell… however many books to pay for this in-the-pink pleasure provider. Whatever the number, it’s doable, even if I’m not. (I haven’t tended my hairy toes, yet. Refer to previous blog.) Hey, wait a minute! If I give up shaving, I’ll save on razors and depilatory creams and wax strips and that could mean I’d need to sell fewer books in exchange for the pink vibes! This dildo better work magic.
I figure God is giving me a helping hand, so to speak, to the fast track of stress relief. And release. I buy the vibrator (my first) and skip back to my car giddy with excitement, swinging my polka-dot shopping bag with glee. (Glee being both in my attitude and in the bag.)
And since no one can pre-order my book, and my roomie is out of town for the weekend, I might as well skip the rest of these posters for now and drive straight home to try my new toy—I mean, medicate with this modern medical device. I’ve diagnosed myself with poster-pusher-pent-up-tensionitis with a side of carpal tunnel. Time is of the essence, people!
Sadly, there is no juicy next scene. The damn thing needs to be charged before I can worship the temple of the Lord—namely my body—with it.
All that anticipated excitement has me exhausted. I need a nap. No happy ending. Sad face dosing off.
Note: This was last week when this was all going down (pun), but now you can totally preview and pre-order my book! (If you want to.) (You do.)
What have I (re)learned? Sometimes, self love is the answer, people!
Homework: Plug in my new luv-ahh!
¹It puts the lotion in the basket. Famous line in the movie Silence of the Lambs. Totally creepy wrong context, I know.
²So far MLM (my little mom) can’t find anything anti-masturbatory in the Bible. Though she suspects some restrictions apply.
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So, my memoir, Me: A Rewrite. From Vanity Insanity To Self-Acceptance (Sort of.)…
It’s uploaded and now available for preview here! And pre-order here! Warning: It’s not as trashy as this blog and not as Zen as my elephant essays, but since you love love love my blog (please love it) and said blog is free, then you could totally buy my book anyway. Like, as a donation. To support me! Heck, buy it as a gift for someone who likes chick-flick-lit. (But only if you want to.)
There’s also a silly, little interview of me here. Silly because the interview is from a pre-prescribed auto-questionnaire via computer. (I’m having sex with an inanimate object and getting interviewed by another. Awesome.)
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Lastly—I promise—here’s another elephant journal essay and, yes, self-soothing is included therein:
