Lately I've been thinking about two things:
1. Getting a goat.
2. Whoring myself out.
Don't worry, the two are not related, although I guess they could be.
First, let's talk about the goat. I agreed to move to the woods because Mr. Ashley promised me we would have a really big yard and he would turn it into my very own little forest wonderland, with paths and squirrel feeders and bird feeders and garden gnomes and twinkling lights and benches and wind chimes and he'd keep the grass mowed.
Let's just say that Mr. Ashley has lost all input on future real estate purchases. Let's also say that our next house most likely won't have a lot of land.
So while I'm stuck here...why not have a goat? They are cute and fun and will help eat the grass/trim the underbrush. The boys could go out there and feed it goat food or whatever and it would make cameo appearances on the blog and it would be amusing to be people who own a goat.
There are a couple of road blocks with this plan: Mr. Ashley and my Noah-like tendency to acquire animals in pairs, even though I've regretted this move every time I've made it. I'm not that worried about the whole Mr. Ashley thing...but how could I leave a goat out there in the woods by itself? At night? It would be better to have two goats than to have one goat sleeping on the lanai, right?
Also, it would have to start out as a baby goat. Something teeny tiny that Mr. Ashley would have to get up and bottlefeed every two hours and that I could hold in my lap. I'm going to start looking in the paper, can't hurt to keep an eye out for a baby goat or two in need of a home. Okay...moving on to our next thought:
Whoring myself out.
I enjoy doing it, and God knows I'm doing it enough, might as well get paid right? It is something I'm good at and I definitely put forth the required effort. I could get my own little place, meet some interesting new people, start bringing in some paychecks. I could yell, "GO AWAY! MOMMY'S WORKING" when the brats come knocking at the door.
I used to think it was trashy and tacky...but who says I need to be above all that?
If a dickhead like Perez Hilton can make $111,000 a month (you read that right), who is to say I couldn't make at least a fraction of that? I mean SOMETHING. I was just reading about how hard he works, with up to 24 posts a day....whoopdeefreakindo. For that kind of money, your ass better be able to sit down at the computer and come up with a couple of pages of content a day.
People, I will work that hard for far less money. I'm up to 3 entries a day lately just because of all of the recent attention I've been getting (that whole Class Clown Syndrome thing), imagine if I could call it my CAREER. You'd see so much of me!
Unfortunately, I have no idea how to make that happen. I have googled it, read a ton of stuff on it and am no closer to understanding any of it. So if anyone would like to purchase ad space on this page...please! Take advantage of my cluelessness and of my absolute willingness to sell out. I get lots of traffic from women who LOVE TO SHOP.
Don't worry, I won't do the annoying Google adsense things...since they place the ad based on content can you even imagine the links we'd have to put up with? Things relating to poop, penii and bald beavers, I'm almost certain. We're not THAT trashy, not yet.
Also, no one is coming in here and trying to run the show. I reserve the right to say fucktard whenever I want. I'd have to be making a lot of moola to give up that right.
So, if you have any information on goats or making money with a blog, please comment it to me or email it to me at the email address located right over yonder------------------>
Thank you for your help in these matters.