Showing posts with label blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blog. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Temptation

My office has a deck that serves as a fabulous cafeteria during the months when it's not covered in snow. Sadly, yesterday the door to the deck bore the following message:

Please do not step onto the deck. The [building management company] is having electrical work done on the deck. Please. for your own safety, we encourage you not to open this door until further notice.
When I told G about this sign his response was, "don't do it, babe . . . even if you think opening the door would make a good blog post."

So far so good...

Thursday, May 15, 2008

I'm Rich Bitches!

A week or so ago I was approached via email by a marketing company about placing a few test ads on a few of the posts on this very blog in exchange for MONEY! Obviously I was intrigued. And by intrigued I mean "My sell out dream has finally come true! Where do I sign? I can only hope that my blood makes good ink!" Finally the capitalist system is recognizing my genius by paying me $.67/post!

About that selling out thing. I suppose that as a arteeeeest I should be unbuy-offable, unwilling to compromise my writing for the sake of a few measly bucks, etc. Certainly just like all rock stars I expect all of my paramoures to read and adore every word I've ever written but, again like a rock star, I would like very much to get some paychecks and radio play (and, most importantly, some groupies). I have no shame because I know that secretly everyone wants to be a sell out ("I want ads. I'm jealous" -- Lisa (aka one smart cookie)), selling out your art is the new dotcom, the new pyramid scheme, the new cam girl, the new prostitution. And like all fools before me armed with only greed and laziness I am here to pimp myself out. After all, I sell out my project management skills everyday and I'm a much better (or at least more consistent) project manager than writer. I should probably consider excel spread sheets comparing actual hours to estimated hours and well crafted emails about exactly how bad things will be if I'm forced to build an entire web application by myself my real Art. Luckily, no one, save myself, considers being super anal a form of artistic expression and so no one judges me for going into the office everyday. The point is, mama has to pay the JCrew bills somehow and since my blogging is typically done from my bed while sipping a vodka gimlet I'll happily choose it over this building software racket. Moral of the story? Send me money and/or a new cashmere cardigan and I will happily do your bidding.

In addition to making me $175 closer to living on a yacht in the Caribbean this advertising adventure affords me the opportunity to link back to a number of old posts. This is fortuitous because I fear that many of my newer readers do not take the proper amount of time to thoroughly read and comment on every single post in my archives. Such an oversight could lead to people thinking that I'm not the most awesome and hilarious writer ever just because most everything I've written in say, the last 4 months, has been crap. Obviously this would be a disaster. Please, for your own good, take some time to peruse the writing (and the somewhat hilarious "Third Party Resources") that I give to you for free even though random marketing companies totally think it is worth money.


Now, there is the question of how best to blow my $175 in advertising revenue. Ideally the money would go to something frivolous that also somehow manages to benefit the blog thus easily masking the frivolity. My only idea so far is a class which I could somehow parlay into at least one (or possibly 1, 2, 3, 4, 5) blog post. Or I could just buy $175 worth of liquor and live blog my slow decent into drunken stooper. But in the spirit of community (and in homage to my never ending laziness) I'm open to suggestions from the peanut gallery -- How do you think I should spend my loot?

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

My Vanity Extends to Venues Outside of This Blog

The upside of guest bloggers is that the large majority of such posts (83%) are vanity pieces focused solely on the awesomeness of the blog owner and god knows that we need more gratuitous praise in these parts. But I am generally opposed to guest blogging, mostly because I like to think of this website as a place for fans of Brianna to come for all Brianna content all the time and to allow someone else to step in and taint that purity would be like letting Santa Clause run wild in Vatican City. Other bloggers, however, do not maintain the same strict standards of perfection practiced by the Random Access Babble Staff (me.) and one of those people is Lisa who let me play guest blogger today.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Best Case Scenarios

People are constantly asking me about my long term plans for the blog and even though I have, in the past, claimed that this is just a hobby I think we all know that blogs are a modern day get rich quick scheme. All bloggers seem to harbor some dream of blogging for a living or becoming a "real" writer or a highly paid panel guest and deep down, despite practical protests to the contrary, I'm no different. And so, while I know that this little dream is as laughable as your average pyramid scheme I present...

Ways My Blog Could Pay My Bills


Book Deal


While, like other less creative bloggers, I do occasionally dream of being given a regular writing job (on the side of course, god knows entry level writing gigs won't support my Richie tendencies) in reality I suspect I would suck an awful lot at writing as a career since I'm pretty sure that paying writing jobs require you to write about things that other people pick out and also that you deliver your writing on time and that it be of the requested length. My art cannot be contained in such a stifling box. I might have some hope of pulling off being a real writer if the job were along the lines of "go to a crazy event and document the insanity; here's some money to buy tickets and booze!" but it's probably more likely that I'd get assignments like "write something about life in New York" and then I'd sit in front on my screen in terror until 5 minutes before my deadline and then quickly try to write something nonsucky through the tears and then get fired. Not a pretty picture or a fantasy likely to result in purchasing my own cabana boy.

A much better option would be for someone with money and a publishing house to stumble upon this blog and think "Wow, this is some GREAT writing, I should give this girl a book deal!" only the book deal would not require ANY new writing -- all I'd have to do is pick out my favorite already written essays and hit "print" and then figure out if it is more comfortable to sleep on a mattress filled with $50 or $100 dollar bills (sure, you're thinking "of course $100s!" but the guilt of such extravagance might get to me.).

Big Ad Money


The other option for the blog bringing home the bacon wrapped foie gras is getting some sort of awesome advertising offers. Greedy folks with no eye for a 5 year plan often ask me why I don't have Google Ads on my site and the answer is because I am not a cheap whore. I am an expensive, sleeping with sketchy famous dudes, apt to cause political scandal whore. Not putting up Google Ads allows me to maintain the illusion that I'm doing this for THE ART. As we all know art is super pricey so when a big company approaches me to cover the entire blog background with some really ugly animated gifs likely promoting tampons or porn or a movie staring Eddie Murphy as Eddie Murphy if he were reborn as an 85 year old woman with 700lbs of extra flesh I will be in a prime position to act offended and concerned about my image thus forcing OB or Joe Francis or Miramax to offer me big bucks for compromising my artistic integrity. Warm up the swimming pool full of liquid gold cause mama's ready to be plated!

Monday, November 26, 2007

Template*

Grand statement. Flippant comment that negates grand statement. Mock serious comment that negates flippant comment. Grand statement.

Obvious fact. Huge leap of faith. Coy rewording of grand statement.

Devil’s advocacy. Brief exploration of implications of devil’s advocacy. Contemptuous dismissal of those who dare to go against grand statement. Fools. Reference to Beverly Hills 90210 that proves grand statement.

Self deprecation. Just kidding, I’m awesome. Look how quirky I am! Swear word. (edgy!) You wish you were me. And if you want to be more like me might I suggest grand statement?

Witty banter (astute but still funny parenthetical comment). Song lyric by band you’ve never heard of that vaguely references grand statement but which I am mostly including as a pathetic attempt to seem hip. Wry contradiction of grand statement.

Declaration of success.

*the first person to actually use this as a template for a blog post gets either a picture of my knee cap OR free promotional quote in support of the blog your your choice – your choice!!!

Thursday, October 18, 2007

R*nd*m Acc*ss B*bble (Radio Edit)

People often confuse me with Snoop Dogg. I never quite know which of our many shared traits to blame for these gaffs (I’ve always just assumed it was the way bitches are drawn to both of us like stoner moths to the flame of a sweet doobie) but one cross that we are both forced to bare is the inability of the mass media to handle our art in its most hardcore and raw form. And so, when the Fordham NPR affiliate, WFUV, asked me to record my NYC Supermarket’s blog post for their Cityscape program I knew there was bound to be some censoring to create a more “radio friendly” version of my emotional outpouring. That's just the way those wanksters roll. That sanitized version of the post will air this Saturday at 7:30 am, you can be outraged in real time by listening online here but we all know that you and Snoop will both still be passed out at that hour so why not come to terms with your own limitations and subscribe to the Cityscape podcast?


The episode is now up in the archive -- go listen!

P.S. OH MY GOD Y’ALL I AM TOTALLY FAMOUS.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

How To Get Out Of Jury Duty

The title of this post is a flagrant attempt to draw Google hits, I’m fairly confident that “How to get out of jury duty” will prove even more popular than “naked girls next door” but I may be seriously underestimating the number of 13 year old boys on the internet. After Thursday’s painful trudge through the halls of justice I returned on Friday to continue my attempts to prove that I was not at all suited for the role of decider on matters other than, “Do V-neck make my boobs look hot?” (yes, always) “Does this recipe have too much butter?” (Not even possible!) and “Do programmers *really* need sleep?” (Sadly, yes.).

Unsurprisingly, much of the questioning on day two focused on my annoying beliefs that independently gathering information to assist in making an informed decision was generally a good idea and that the internet houses a few valuable and accurate pieces of information hidden amongst the gigabytes of lies. The lawyers were insistent that all important information would be given to me at the trial and that any googling I did would result in hit after hit of inaccurate information (“Not everything you read on the internet is true.” “Nor is everything you hear in a court room.”). We debated the evils of the internet (with me citing this and this) and my abilities to distinguish fact from opinion for a good 20 minutes before the lawyers left the room to discuss ways to kill me that would be easy to cover up. I felt pretty confident about my impending dismissal and even the remaining potential jurors commented in a congratulatory tone that I was definitely going home. I have to assume that the lawyers were out of peremptory challenges and were not creative enough to come up with a way to dismiss me with cause because they returned to inform me that I would be serving as an alternate juror. After eliciting a promise from me that if the judge instructed me not to look up information on the internet I would refrain from googling rather than be held in contempt (*gulp*) the defense lawyer jokingly asked how I would feel if people went out and googled me. I replied that I wouldn’t care since I knew exactly what the search results would be and that I could make things easier for him by giving him my blog url. I admit that this generous offer was made with personal gain in mind, I was hoping that both lawyers would read the blog and come to regret their decision to put me on the jury. If I was going to spend the next week tethered to the court house I didn’t want to be the only one wishing I was somewhere else.

Monday morning I reported back to the refrigerator of the Queens County jury waiting room and whittled away two hours of work (thank the god of irony for free wifi) while awaiting my turn in the jury box. Finally the bailiff arrived and lined myself and the other 7 unlucky jurors up to take us to the court house. It’s amazing how much jury duty resembles an elementary classroom trip to an assembly. After being led down a winding path through the court house library and up a back staircase that had clearly once been reserved for slaves, maids and hunchbacks we petulant eight were left to stew in a 10x10 room on the 6th floor. Only a few minutes passed before the bailiff returned and summoned me to the court room. I steeled myself for what I assumed would be my promised lecture on the evils of Google.

The judge’s uniform combined with the courtroom setting proved extremely effective at keeping my big mouth shut – two smarmy lawyers in a room full of plastic chairs I can handle, but stand me in the old carved oak jury box in front of a robed and scowling black lady judge and I all but melt into a puddle of apologies. I was ready to turn yellow and swear off the internet at a single word but it turned out that I wouldn’t have to.

Big Scary Judge: Have you corrupted any of the other jury members with your views on jury duty?

Little Insignificant Brianna: No, I’ve been doing work all morning; I haven’t spoken with any of them.

BSJ: Ok, we’re going to dismiss you as a result of your views.

LIB: Thank you!


I cannot say definitively that this blog saved me from jury duty but I think it’s a pretty safe assumption. I don’t know exactly which of my views the Queens country court system found objectionable enough to give me the heave ho though there seemed to be some implication that the main problem was my general desire not to serve on a jury which ignores all of the evidence pointing to “getting out of jury duty” as American’s new favorite pastime. Personally, I suspect the main problem was my referring to the prosecutor as hip heavy.

In all seriousness (just kidding, I promise to continue my trivial ranting) I think it’s clear that when it comes to the internet the US justice system, much like newspapers and record companies, is caught somewhere between denial and full freak out so for the time being if you want off of a jury (or if you just like to mess with lawyers) blog about it.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

I'm Official

Look what I got: http://www.randomaccessbabble.com/

(thanks Garth)

Saturday, June 30, 2007

This Will Only Make Things Worse

I would like to claim that the most popular page on my blog is my United Airlines post. I'm even confident that most of my readers would believe this little lie but getting away with it wouldn't make it right. The actual most popular post should surprise no one -- we all know that the internet's fame and glory is owed not to witty ranting but to naked ladies. There is exactly one picture on this blog that includes bare boobies so at least 50% of my traffic on any day lands on Holly, Bridget and Kendra mid pillow fight.

I hate to be to judge-y when it comes to masturbation material because we all have our quirks but boys (a note to girls who find this picture hot: I cannot help you), this is pathetic. I'm going to let slide that all three girls were born without the pretty gene because I generally encourage people to find beauty in everyone, even girls who look like horses, but this picture is sorely lacking in sexiness and that I cannot abide.

Let's start with the obvious problem: Bridget's ass, or rather, the trapdoor exposing Bridget's ass. This is not hot. Trap doors (or "drop seats" as I learned from this sketchy website) are for toothless rednecks who are too lazy to pull down their pants when nighttime business must be attending to in the outhouse. See? Not hot.

Next up: Glassy eyed stares. Even though men are not known for seeking out porn where the woman looks engaged I find this particular image more disturbing than average. Look at them! Holly's dreaming out the bouncing pile of loot (whoops, I mean baby) that she's gonna have Heff turkey baste into her womb any day now, Bridget's wondering if the kids who made fun of her in high school are finally jealous enough to quit this act and Kendra is thinking... who am I kidding? Kendra can't think. Are these really the girls you want participating in your pillow fight orgy fantasy? You're a smart guy with an internet connection and a little cash in the bank, can't you do better?

There are boobies plastered all over the internet -- you guys should stop settling for the sub par nakedness offerings on this blog.

In other news my popularity grows everyday: I'm hit number 79 for "meth cooking."

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Honey, We Have Guests!

On Monday ProfessorBrainbridge linked to my United Airlines post and he must be pretty well respected because on Tuesday his praise resulted in 299 hits on this little blog. Only about 10 of those were me putting out guest towels, cleaning behind the toilet and pretending that I never eat in front of the television. Mama done brought me up right: always lie to guests. If only I'd had time to prepare I would have totally had pants on when all the new folks arrived.

Thank god for site meter (and stat counter, my ego demands two forms of behind the scenes blog-y goodness) or I'd have never known that I was on the cusp of fame and would be ill prepared for the day when I sell out to advertisers, quit my job and blog full time (next Thursday). 300+ visitors and not one of you can leave a comment? Don't you know that I live for comments and die for comments from people who don't know me in real life and therefore have no obligation to care about my ramblings?

It's funny how my ego has gotten so tied up in this blog. Seeing all of those people poking around has me acting like Sally Field, "You like me!!!!"

Update: Today I got linked by The Curious Capitalist over at TIME MAGAZINE. Let me quote his eloquent description of yours truly, "one of the great blog posts of our age." I have only one thing to say to you Mr. Capitalist, "Your place or mine?"

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Snazzy New Look

Banner Awesomeness by Gillian
Distilling my entire life into one sentence by Mike
Annoying whining about what a pain it is to edit the blogger template? That was all me.