You are what you ad?

So. A while back, like some time before I left for Italy, I signed up to advertise with Project Wonderful, and so far, I think I might be able to take one other person out for a soda with the money I’ve earned. But they’ll have to drive because I wouldn’t be able to afford the gas. Don’t get me wrong – I’m having a lot of fun with it, and the Project Wonderful people are, indeed, wonderful. It just hasn’t been all that lucrative for me. It has, however, been entertaining.

I’m not exactly sure how advertisers find me or decide that they’d like to place an ad here on Onward Hoe!, but most of them have clearly never read anything I’ve ever written. I don’t mind, though. I consider it part of the whimsy I’ve got going here. You never know what you’re going to get. I could be talking about water-skiing squirrels or ripping off Paula Abdul lyrics. I could be gushing about people I love or linking you to ridiculous internet videos. I could be advertising for funky jewelry on Etsy or for weird sci-fi gaming websites.

But tonight friends, tonight I’m advertising for the NRA and some ultra-conservative, right wing women’s group that wants lower taxes. And I’m doing it because they don’t know that I’m a quasi-vegan, who has gay friends and works very happily to improve the lives of immigrants regardless of their legal status. With their tax money. They don’t know that’s who I am, and it amuses me to no end that they are paying me (on top of what their tax dollars pay me to teach illegal immigrants English) to host their ad on my site in the middle of the night when the only people who are going to see it are the spammers in the Middle East.

Maybe I’m selling out here. I don’t know. But maybe one day, three or four years from now, when I’ve finally got enough money earned to withdraw some (there’s a $10 minimum), one of you will get to go out with me for sodas AND fries because of it. Eyes on the prize, people. You are not what you advertise. You are why you advertise. I do it for y’all. And for the future hope of deep-fried potato sticks.

Blast from the Past

I was reminded of these little films on Monday at my writing group, and then I was telling Rae about them later – particularly #11, Bluebirds in Spring. But they’re all still so good (well maybe not #5 – it’s not my favorite). If you haven’t seen them in a while, do revisit them. If you’ve never seen them, then ladies and gentlemen, I present to you…

MUFFIN FILMS!!

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner FAIL

It’s always a pleasure to catch up with either of my Joshes, but last night, Whitney-Josh had THE most amazing story for me. Ever. And let me just say that you know a story is going to be good when someone like Whitney kicks it off by saying, “So I was watching the Tyra show…” because people like Whitney do not just watch Tyra – not unless they are too ill to change the channel, or maybe if they happen to be passing by the channel just as Tyra says something like, “I like to cook with condiments at the table.” Really, Tyra? Cook? I’m sorry, but I thought that required some sort of heating implement. Is she planning on using the candles at the table? Or perhaps the bald head of the man eating the Vindaloo at the next table? No, no. She had no such plan, and I’m so glad that Josh was also intrigued enough to stop flipping channels and hear Tyra out because, y’all. It is incredible, and by “incredible,” I mean literally incredible. Unbelievable. Too weird for words.

So Tyra tells her audience she’s going to show them how to make fried chicken using things you might find on the table of a restaurant. And she whips the lid off of a platter to reveal several pieces of fried chicken, and she says, “We’re going to make fried chicken” (this is important). Now I don’t know about y’all, but my first thought was, Ok, she’s going to use the salt, pepper, olive oil maybe, red pepper flakes and oregano if she’s really stretching, and maybe some bread crumbs to season and prepare chicken. And then she’ll fry it. But that is where I was OH SO WRONG.

Tyra then tells the viewers that she’s going to use an ingredient that’s old. It’s really old, she says, like a hundred million trillion bazillion years old, like as old as food itself, like the dinosaurs ate it. Ok I don’t know if she said all of that, but I know she said it was old. She then opens it up to the audience to guess what this mega-uber-old ingredient is (my guess: salt), and one girl raises her hand and says, “Um, is it, like, soup?”

“No!” Tyra says, “It’s not soup. What’s your name?”

“Angelica!”

“Come on down here, Angelica!”

And now we have two idiots onstage.

So the first step, Tyra says, in making fried chicken at your table is to take a piece of bread from the bread basket. And everyone in the audience magically had a piece of bread under their seats! So the whole audience is pulling out bags of bread to make fried chicken along with Tyra.

Is it starting to sound really weird yet? Yeah, just wait.

So you take the bread, and you put a lot of butter on it. Just slather it right on there. Butter it up. Then, you’re going to need a little salt, but just a little because the butter’s already salted. And then you need a LOT of pepper. I mean really, a lot. And Tyra is shaking it and shaking it and shaking it onto the buttered, salted bread.

And THEN (and this is the key step, I think, because making fried chicken out of bread is 100% mental and 0% culinary skill), just before you take a bite, you say to yourself, “Fried chicken.”

Seriously. That’s it.

And the whole audience is eating this thing they have just made at their seats that is clearly not fried chicken, and Tyra is chowing down on hers and saying, “Ohmigodyouguys it tastes JUST like fried chicken!” while the audience – both in the studio and at home – is thinking, There is no way in this world or any other, or on any planet or in any parallel or fictional universe that that tastes anything like anything resembling fried chicken in ANY way.

Perhaps I am too harsh, though, having not tried it. But most likely not.

Not About the Boat Show

I know many of you are just squirming in your office chairs waiting for me to post pictures and VIDEO!!!! from this weekend’s Powerboat Show and Sale. I can’t post them yet, though, for two reasons:

  1. I’m waiting for SOMEBODY to scan and email me The Picture because the one I have is not good. It wasn’t that great a photo to begin with (technically speaking – the subject matter is fantastic), and I took a picture of The Picture with the camera on my PunkBerry, and we all know what happens when you make a copy of a copy (She touched my pepe, Steve). So I need the original in digital form to share with the people. Pretty please??
  2. I can’t find the cord that hooks my camera up to my computer. It’s here somewhere, and when I find it, you’ll not only get to see more photos and video from the event, but you’ll also get to see pictures of Ugly Sweater New Year’s 2010, but until then, I got nothin’.

So for now, I’m going to tell you that until about five minutes ago, apparently I still had a myspace account. Why? I don’t know. I think it had something to do with planning my high school reunion and needing to find people, but I’m pretty sure all those people are on facebook now, so if I haven’t given up on facebook eight years from now, the next reunion should be easy to plan. I am not confident, however, that facebook will still exist in eight years. Or if it does, no one will be using it because something better will have come along, and facebook will be the thing that only old people, rednecks and internet prostitutes use. But I guess in eight years, if I stay in the mountains and never find a day job, I could become all of those things.

At least I deleted my myspace account. That’s a step in the right direction, I think.

What has two thumbs and internet at home??

That’s right. THIS gal.

The Charter guy came over this afternoon and hooked us up just in time for the afternoon soaps, which I promptly turned off. I’ve been trying to get the wireless set up with a password and everything, but I seem to have failed in choosing my own password and have had to, instead, type in a 26-digit code. I know I definitely typed in a selected password. I just don’t know what has happened to it now. But whatever, I’m online. Wirelessly. IN MY HOUSE!! Oh it’s glorious, and now I can learn Dreamweaver from the comfort of my jabambas! It’s a good day, friends. A good day indeed. And supposedly, it’s going to snow tonight. I don’t know how much, but I haven’t really seen snow since last winter. I mean, it snowed in Raleigh for like ten minutes that one day, but that hardly counts. I’m excited. Maybe I should go out and buy bread and stuff just in case. And by “stuff,” I mean things to bake lots of cookies and cupcakes. And chips.

How to Get People to Come to Church with You

If you always want to invite people to church, but always feel tentative about asking and often chicken out at the last minute, here’s a simple five-step process to getting those butts in the pews:

  1. List an item for sale on craigslist. Make it ridiculously cheap, like, say a 30″ TV for $25.
  2. When your buyer comes to pick up his/her item, be overly generous and offer to load it up in the car for him/her.
  3. (You’ll have to set this up ahead of time.) Park your car(s) and place your trashcans strategically so that the buyer will have to park in the middle of the street so you don’t get a hernia carrying that monstrous TV all the way down the road.
  4. As the neighbors line up on either side of your buyer’s car (which is in the middle of the street), casually ask where they live and mention that your church is near there. Even if it isn’t. Give them directions.
  5. As they get into the car, wave enthusiastically and tell them you love them.

True story.

Wow Wow Woopsie

I wanted to just make the title “Wow,” but then I wanted to double it, but then I decided to just toss the woopsie in there since it appears as though more and more people are stumbling across Onward Hoe! by searching for this very puzzling phrase. Y’all, seriously, if it is something dirty or illegal, please tell me.

But on to today’s business. There’s not really much. I just figured I’d give you a little somethin’ since I didn’t give you anything yesterday. And the little somethin’ I’m going to give you is just downright spectacular. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

I come to YOU!