BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

“Tits!…Why… There must be 57 tits up there.”

Back in the days of vinyl record albums containing recorded concerts of such funny folk as Richard Pryor, George Carlin, and Robin Williams, there was also Steve Martin. Mister Martin is arguably one of the funniest people of the late 70’s / early 80’s, and is still insanely hilarious to this day, albeit with a different bent to his humor. In case you haven’t done the math just yet, the line about “tits” was from one of his comedy routines – quite obviously the “odd number” being the major component of the punch line.

And, of course, this brings me around to what I am really here to talk about – that being, web marketing. You see, targeted web marketing has become the big thing over the past few years. These days data aggregators look at your searches, the personal info that you’ve put out there, and everything else they can glean from your time spent on the Internet, and  then proceed to customize a barrage of ads specifically for you.

However, sometimes their aim is a bit off – as is the case with this odd number of tits on my screen. Not that there is actually an odd number of breasts, mind you. Just that it is odd that there is any number of them on my screen whatsoever. You see, some of the really major culprits where targeted web ads are concerned happens to be the sidebars of social networking sites. In the case of “Myspank” they tend to get really obnoxious. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been approving friend requests, only to have an embedded shockwave-flash video of some twenty something cutie giggling and smiling at me as she ostensibly carries on a chatroom-esque conversation with yours truly. Problem is, I can’t see what she’s supposedly saying to me… However, my also unseen replies must be pretty damned witty, because she giggles a lot and makes bedroom eyes at me. Too bad I’m old enough to be her father. If I was a hormonal twenty-something single guy, I might be flattered. If I was a hormonal teenage guy, well hell, I’d fall for it in a heartbeat. But, the fact of the matter is none of the cuties they’ve paired with my profile to date can hold a candle to E K, so it’s a moot point. (Just for the record, she didn’t make me say that… This time, anyway.)

However, lately, even though I’m listed as married, the web marketers of the Myspank platform seem to be under the impression that I am single. Either that, or they know something about my marriage that I don’t. Obviously, this is where the “tits” come in.

As you can see, thus far they have actually managed to keep the breasts to an even number. However, for fear that I might become bored with the same pair of “tits” in my face repeatedly – see, I told you they knew nothing about marriage – they have made sure they have a bevy of busty young things arching their backs through various chest thrusting, cleavage revealing, shirt stretching poses. And, all of this appears to be for the express purpose of getting me to join a service that would let me hook up with “Local Singles”.

Interesting…

I mean, what with it being targeted marketing and all, they should already know I’m married. So, if they are trying to tease me into being unfaithful, why in the hell would I care if the other party is single? Just something to consider…know what I mean?

Of course, that’s not even the half of it. Just have a look. Based on the photos they keep pushing at me, it would seem more like they were advertising doubles, not singles. Pairs, not Aces. But, I guess that’s all just a matter of semantics, eh? But, even if we follow their logic, the fact of the matter is, I don’t feel like I’m looking at “singles”… I feel like I’m looking at the public teaser images for a porn site. Either that or an advertisement for brassieres.

And, on the note of targeting the marketing… Since all manner of aggregating bots pick up all sorts of keywords and such from my blogs, text entries, and what have you on the web, it would seem they might have run across the fact that I’m not really a “boob guy” at some point. I’m thinking they’d be better off trying to tempt me with a shapely set of gams…

But hey, maybe they know what I like better than I do. Maybe “tits” will grow on me… But, let’s hope not.

Now, don’t get me wrong. All of the ladies they have paraded across my screen are perfectly lovely. And, in the endowment department they definitely aren’t lacking by any stretch of the imagination. I’m fairly certain they have a good bit of the alphabet covered.  In fact, a couple of them look to me like they would benefit from a lifetime supply of Doan’s Pills. (For the younger crowd out there, Doan’s Pills are a pain reliever that was originally marketed for backaches. They are still around these days, but they don’t seem to be advertised anywhere near as much as they were in the past.)

But, you know, the thing that gets me the most about these particular ads isn’t even their frequency – which is high. And, when I say high I mean, as in at least every other refresh, and often times even more. Nor is it the fact that undoubtedly not a single one of the ladies pictured have anything at all to do with this supposed “singles meeting service”. Nope. Even as disturbing in a sense as all that is, it’s not the real kicker.

I mean, let’s face the facts, in 5 minutes on “Myspank” I end up seeing more “tits” than if I spent all afternoon with a copy of “Big Busted Babes,” “Melons On Parade,” or some other breast-centric porn magazine, so in reality it gets to be just a bit numbing to the senses.

So, nope, none of the above… The thing that stands out – pun not intended – is the fact that if I don’t click on the ad, which by the way, I never have, they get pushy about it. And, by pushy I don’t mean they show me a model in a push-up bra. They’ve already been doing that, in some cases anyway. Nope, you see, what they do is go out of their way to draw extra attention to the “tits” in question. How? By writing on them, of course. These poor women suddenly become living Goodyear blimps… (I say blimps, and not just blimp, because there are two, and well, you get the idea…)

Anyway, the marketing geniuses seem to believe that I will somehow get a vicarious thrill by placing the mouse pointer over the two dimensional “tits” and watching it turn into a hand. I suppose if I was a little perverted… Well… Wait… Actually I am a little perverted… In a good way though… But, that’s beside the point… If I was into the whole “boob thing” and I was also just a little off kilter in the braincase… Or a little desperate, I suppose… I guess maybe I could get all excited about moving that virtual hand around a bit before clicking on a strategic location or two. My guess is, that’s exactly what they are going for. Maybe I should do a poll of the 18 to 24 year old males with pages on “Myspank”. I bet they could tell me…

You know, if they are going to all this trouble to get my attention, I almost have to wonder what they are showing the women users when they log on?  And, do they tailor to sexual orientation? I mean, come on… I have lesbian friends who would probably like to see what I’m being targeted with… And, I have gay friends who I suspect would rather see what’s being dished out to the women, if it is in fact what I think it might be.

See, now, in my mind that would be targeted marketing.

Finally, on the note of what the ladies are being shown. Truth is, I have no idea. But, if I had to speculate, I figure they are probably seeing some buff guy with a Kielbasa stuffed into his pants… Or maybe a parsnip if the model happens to be a vegan. Of course, I suppose it could just be a pair of socks or some such. But, I really don’t think I have any desire to go looking for a picture in order to figure it out. I’ll let you do that yourself.

In any event, I guess something like that would explain why E K suddenly started spending so much time on “Myspank” as of late…

More to come…

Murv

I have literally lost track of the number of emails, tweets, Facebook & Myspace comments, and other communications I have received from folks following the deployment of the “Gimme Mai Shooz” blog post. In all honesty, I never expected that story to go as “viral” as it did. Granted, it was a weak virus that played out quickly, but it was probably the first blog post I have ever written that was re-tweeted and linked to from other blogs/sites more times than I could count.

And, who knows, maybe the virus is merely dormant for a short period. I suppose it could re-awaken and spread some more. I mean, it definitely is a funny story.

However, the purpose of this particular blog entry is to address the adjunct “virus” that came along with the post itself – that being the plethora of faux bets on the how and when of my demise for publicly retelling the story in the first place. This is where all of the emails, tweets, comments, etcetera, come into play. I had thrown the “want to play Clue and start a pool?” comment out as a joke, but folks picked it up and ran with it. Not something I really expected, but I don’t suppose I should have been surprised. And besides, it was fun to watch.

There were plenty of the old standby ideas submitted:

• E K in the kitchen with a knife…
• E K in the dining room with a poison sandwich…
• E K in the driveway with her car…

There were even a couple that left me wondering:

• E K with a cheese grater and razor wire…
• E K with Dr. Pepper in the bathtub…

I’m not entirely sure if that second one was a “Dr. Pepper bath” type of Beauty Tip, or if the intention was to use the carbonic & phosphoric acids in the soda to dissolve my remains. In addition to the Clue-like wagers, there were even several suggestions for torture and punishment. I’m not entirely certain that the majority of those suggestions actually fit the crime… In fact, I think maybe some folks have seen way too many episodes of the “Jack Bauer Show” .

Still, when it came to bets on how I would meet my end for embarking on this horrible transgression, the suggestion I received most, and the odds on favorite method for my death was:

• E K somewhere in the house with stiletto heels [add description here]

– The “somewheres“ tendered for consideration ranged anywhere from her shoe closet to just about any other room you could imagine, including some we don’t even have.

– The stiletto heels varied quite a bit in color and style. (Obviously the fashion statement was just as important as my demise.)

– The [add description here] AKA “method” by which the deadly footwear would be used to affect my untimely death varied only slightly and always involved an enormous amount of gleeful stomping and grinding on E Kay’s part, and even more bleeding and suffering on my part.

Not surprisingly, 100% of the death by high heels suggestions came from women. At first, I assumed that all of these ladies had read the RGI Miranda Trilogy, since that happened to be how a particular victim met his demise at the hands… well, feet actually… of a sociopathic killer dominatrix. Then I discovered that several of them had not yet read that far in the series.

That was a bit of a surprise…

What was really shocking to me, however, was the obvious delight most of them took in outlining the details of the scenario for me. There seemed to be a whole vicarious thrill built around it. Some of them even seemed to have spent quite a bit of time dwelling on it… Like maybe even before the whole blog ever happened, if you know what I mean… I even kind of had the feeling I was suddenly becoming a virtual surrogate for some husbands and boyfriends out there who had committed various infractions over the years.

Kinda scary… Kinda really scary, actually…

Because of that, I hope you ladies realize I’m going to be maintaining a safe distance from here on out… Especially if you show up at one of my book signings wearing high heels.

So, anyway, there’s something y’all probably need to know. E K really and truly is an extremely laid back gal. Very little fazes her, and her Evil persona in my blogs is for the most part satire. Now, this is not to say that she won’t tap dance on someone’s head if they cross her, because she definitely will. I’ve seen her do it. I even have pictures. And, I’m also not saying that she isn’t on the dominant side, because that would be a lie.  She is very much the alpha female. And, in our relationship I’m the clown in the mailroom and she’s the CEO – actually, she prefers to be referred to as The Queen, but let’s not take that side road… My point here is she actually knows about my blogs in advance. Maybe not the exact wording and such, but she definitely knows which stories are being told. So, in essence I really had little to fear – from her, anyway. The rest of you twisted women… Well…  I’m not so sure…

At least, that’s what I thought…

You see, as it happens E K gives pretty amazing back walking massages – trust me, that’ll make sense in a minute if it doesn’t already. I figure she was probably a Geisha or something of the sort in a previous life,  – (Egads, please don’t email me and tell me I’ve offended someone with the whole Geisha thing… I realize it’s a whole cultural thing and that I’m probably just focusing on a hyped aspect or something, but give me a break…) – My point being that with sitting in front of a keyboard as much as I do, I will get a crick in my back every now and again. Whenever seeing the Chiropractor isn’t affordable time-wise or money-wise, and E K notices me twisting and stretching quite a bit, she asks with much wifely compassion and concern, “Is your back hurting? Do you want me to walk on it for you?” Then she’ll go all “E K-Geisha” on me and run up and down my back a few times while it goes POP! CRACK! SKRUNCH! After that I’m all good. She really and truly does have a talent for it. Trust me, I’m not the only person for whom she’s done this. She could probably get you testimonials without even threatening anyone.

Anywho, such was the case Saturday evening… As in, the Saturday evening immediately after the blog had been going a bit viral…

I should have known something was up when instead of the normal concerned question, her offer to pop my back came out a bit differently this time. With more than just a bit of a wicked grin and an evil twinkle in her eyes the redhead pretty much issued the following order, in no uncertain terms –

“Lay down and I’ll step on you…”

I didn’t notice her shoes until it was already too late.

I blame you ladies and your suggestions.

More to come…

Murv