There’s this little series of blog posts I did years ago when (I think) I was trying to give myself a publish pep talk about being a better blogger. To be honest, I literally don’t even remember what those posts contained. For all I know they were full of grandiose commitments that I’d share a video riding buck ass naked atop an obese unicorn by that year’s end. Maybe I put the declaration out there that I was going to become a super-sexualized monk to make my content more interesting. Like I said, I don’t know.
I do know that I used this stock image with them:
Look. That stock photo is innocent enough. It’s just a finger with a reminder screen wrapped around it.
Then, when I redid my website this last time around, the process re-cropped all the featured images for every blog post. And, if you haven’t noticed, there’s a fantastically not-annoying-at-all popup which shows up on most devices telling you of other fantastically way-too-awesome-don’t-think-of-not-reading-them blog posts you might enjoy. You know. Try to make a living and all that jazz.
Long story don’t-bore-you-too-much-so-better-make-it-short, that popup shows past posts found in the same category you’re currently reading. Sometimes, when I tag a post under the “blogging” category, those old super-sexualized guru posts show up again on the popup.
And every… single… effing… time…
I see it out of the corner of my eye, my heart jumps through my throat, and I think the extremely panicked thought: WHY THE GOOD F*** IS THAT SHOWING UP ON MY WEBSITE?!
This, in turn, is followed by heart-stopping panic that my site has been hacked, and now is full of porn, and I’m going to have all sorts of work to now do, and half my life is about to be wasted, and I’m going to lose 108% of my readers, and I’ll probably now die sad, alone, and broke, and worst of all, my dreams of riding a big tubby unicorn into the sunset will wither and die.
Mind you, all of those thoughts takes place in the 0.0003th part of a second that it takes me to violently jerk my gaze to the thumbnail in question and realize, once again…
Oh, it’s just a finger. Whew.
Then I laugh to myself. I mentally tuck away the firm resolve to fix those thumbnails later that day. And I promptly forget to do it until the whole thing happens once more.
I guess I could do it now. Obviously I’m thinking about it, and I’m thinking about it a lot. But at this point, why? It has become funny as all heck-on-toast to me.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing