My blog store. Between you and me, I like the way it sounds. I like working it into conversation.
“Christmas is coming. Have you seen my blog store? Let me send you the link.”
It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Am I selling blogs now, you ask, coyly? No. Are you new? I am selling blog merchandise. Or “blerch” as we say in the “biz.” Did you see what I did just then? You can use that casually, but if I find that word with your handle attached to it on the Urban Dictionary or worked into something on Metafilter, I am sending my readers after you. For reals. I don’t want to DoS attack your server, but I will.
ANYWAY. Nothing provides the kind of geek cred that you wish to attain like wearing the merchandise from some website that practically no one’s ever heard of. It will give you cachet at work, though frankly I don’t know why you’d need it, surrounded by WoWers as you are. They wouldn’t know REAL geek cred if a level 55 Druid came up to them and cast a cool buff on them, would they? I didn’t think so. You can feel smug wearing my blerch when you know they are just going to go home and fap to lizard women. On second thought, I guess I wouldn’t want them reading my musings anyway. Pearls before SWINE.
I suppose you would like to know what sets my blog store apart from other blog stores. Other blog stores throw some image file at a tee-shirt company that goes through a currency-fencing middleman service. Not here, at my blog, “What Fresh Blog is This?” You can be assured that my blerch is made by local artisans in my tri-state area who are paid a fair wage to screenprint my witticisms and my menstrual-experience art onto quality organic cotton tees. Well, to be fair, one shirt reads “Blogging is happy agony,” which is a twist on everyone’s favorite hottie be-piped dead French philosopher, but my readers are so clever I don’t have to pedantically attribute anything.
Further, as subscribers of my videoblogging experiments can attest to, I am a voluptuous woman, and frankly, the large “ladyfit” tee shirts sold by other companies are better suited as leg warmers on someone with mammerjammers like mine. And I know I’m not alone. So on the order form after the choices “organic” and “free range” you may also input your exact bust/waist/hip measurements, because I wish to exclude no one from the opportunity to wear my blerch with pride. No one should feel too scrawy or too voluptuous!
Finally, let’s talk about payment. It’s an uncomfortable subject, but the artisans need to eat, too. We must also be thankful for my wonderful nanny who makes all this possible. How else could I update WFBiT? six times a day? Face it, you think you could get by, but around three o’clock you would start wondering what I had for lunch and how the carpet-cleaning company responded to my angry yet professional-sounding letter to their corporate headquarters. Not everyone can make the soap opera of their lives fascinating, but I have the blog touch. The blouch.
So, please, as you are visiting my blog, check out my new blog store linked off my sidebar, entitled, “What Fresh Blurch Is This?” Says it all, and locks down that new word as my intellectual property (read my Creative Commons license if you don’t believe me). Isn’t it time to show the world your obscure and eclectically-geeky tastes? Remember, there are only a little over 40 shopping days till Christmas!
