On days like today I like to take my Grandmother’s antique wedding ring, hide it in the flat, and wait for my cat to discover it.
The anxious look on his face when he thinks he’s being proposed to.
It started with a modest proposal, ‘If I post Will Smith’s face adjacent to a street sign near my flat which bears a similar, albeit not identical, version of his name then the interest it generates will bring Twitter, and subsequently the entire internet, to its knees’.
People seem to think ideas for great tweets just appear out of nowhere but they’re dead wrong. It takes a Herculean effort to come up with this stuff, usually it’s the labour of more than one mind.
You see I only decided on ‘closer than you think bro…’ after several painstaking days brainstorming potential captions with the staff writers here at DLMFO.
Rejected were ‘You’re damn right he is!’, ‘Well it sure as shit ain’t Jazzy Jeff!’, and ‘Gettin’ shrubby with it!’, the latter for being in the words of our head writer ‘by far the funniest, but perhaps too niche…will our readers really get the reference?’.
My fellow creative was highly supportive and, as always, had some vital input to the social media content creating endeavor.
Hold your horses Richard, let’s not run before we’re walking.
First of all, I needed to print this Bad Boy off.
As you can see, it wasn’t perfect. Something went wrong with the printer and Will was left with a dramatic scar running down the right hand side of his face.
I also seriously caned the ink in the printer at work. Thankfully I waited until everyone else had gone to lunch to do this.
Next up, laminating!
I love using the laminator at work. It’s not often that I have an excuse to do so. In fact, the last I time I retrieved it from the stationery cupboard was when I had some Nicolas Cage faces to preserve in plastic.
Following on from the low level excitement of laminating came the high risk pay off to my content generating scheme.
I was very anxious that someone might stop me and ask why I was temporarily affixing reputed Scientologist Will Smith’s face onto a street sign.
I had no ready reply and in my heightened state I messed up the first picture. The laminated surface was reflecting the sun’s hard glare, this was turning into a disaster!
I persevered and ended up with an acceptable photograph.
Even better, I managed to make it back to the office without being apprehended by a curious resident of William Smith Close or by a representative of the law.
It was now just a case of putting it up on twitter and seeing the retweets roll in. Brand awareness would surely skyrocket…
Wow! It certainly did. 9 people retweeted it! Pretty good going I think you’ll agree.
Admittedly one of them was another account of mine and another was the same friend I ran the idea by.
Nonetheless, I thought it was all well worth the effort as it stimulated DIALOGUE.
Some of the dialogue did linger on the similarities between this tweet and one from a few weeks earlier:
Personally, I don’t see it. The only major thing the two posts had in common was that the exact same nine people retweeted on both occasions.
But surely that just suggests I have a core audience who support me no matter what, and to that 0.09% of my twitter followers I’d like to say ‘thank you’.
As your blog is about sad meals for sad and lonely people, I thought I’d share my sad, and potentially fatal, food story involving hijiki seaweed.
I went through a stage of really enjoying eating the dried seaweed that I’d cook up with coconut milk and spring onions. I’d go through kilos of the stuff. At the same time I started working in a hospital. I soon was suffering bouts of severe gastro, with sweating, dizziness, nausea. I just thought I was picking up every bug in the hospital and soon my immune system would be bolstered.
Feeling somewhat smug about my new seaweed superfood, I decided to Google what awesome nutrition it contained.
I found out that the seaweed has extremely high levels of inorganic arsenic and should not be eaten in large quantities. Small sprinkles on rice is safe. I was eating roughly 2 cups in one sitting. My ‘immune-system toughening-up to hospital standards’symptoms were actually acute arsenic poisoning symptoms.
There I was, living alone, and every night sadly eating my arsenic seaweed death meal for one.
Let this be a lesson to others with dimly lit meals for one. Stick to toast, beans, cheese, tinned pies and frozen dinners.
Some sage advice from Sarah for anyone who’s just mildly depressed and doesn’t feel like eating themselves into oblivion, avoid the seaweed…