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Posts Tagged ‘great ideas that haven’t passed the blogging stage’

Before I know it, it will be upon me: the inevitable return to more “gainful” employment. With two out of three children potentially at school next year and Mr McGee starting kindergarten, it is only a matter of time…

Of course, mostly I’m relying on an anonymous but incredibly wealthy patron offering to pay me to write about my children’s amusing vomiting escapades. As far as planning for the future goes, I think this is entirely realistic

ANYWAY, of my local mothers’ group, MW will be the first cab out of the ranks next year with both her kids at school. Everyone keeps telling her she won’t know herself. I suspect that she will still know herself but will probably advise her to have her name and Tax File Number tattooed on the back of her hand. Just in case. 

So there MW was the other day, talking to me about how she’d been trying to think of a business plan that could utilise all of the various skills we have in our mothers’ group. Perhaps an idea for a business in an area where we weren’t necessarily experts but where we might had some untapped talents that could be developed and earn us a bit of money.

I leant forward, slightly incredulous and yet excited at the same time: “Are you thinking of starting a brothel??”

MW laughed. “Nooooo!” she said. “I was thinking more along the lines of a catering business!”

But it was too late. In my mind her business plan was set. We were going to start the Best Little Whorehouse in West Blah-Blah-Blah. Although possibly without actual sex on the menu – I mean, c’mon! Who’s got the energy for that shit? Maybe men could pay to watch us nap. Or watch us hang out the washing, empty the compost bin or rearrange the plastic containers cupboard. You know, all the things that seem to drive our poor neglected husbands crazy with desire.

Or, if we wanted to get really racy, we could stand around licking cake mix off our fingers, Nigella Lawson-style. Or iron and fold the patron’s underwear for them. Or even count to three and then put them on the Naughty Spot for hours at a time…

But then something happened which pushed this Business Plan into a whole new exciting direction… At a mothers’ group gathering the following evening, I made a special point of telling everyone – including the menfolk in attendance – about MW’s Business Plan. As the mothers started excitedly bandying about ideas, I became aware of my husband and a fellow dad standing quietly in the corner, “Just Listening”.

And I realised then and there, that men might even pay us just to talk about starting a whorehouse. Which, when you think about it, is exactly my kind of Business Plan: all talk, no action. Sorted.

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A lot of people say to me “There must be a way to make for you to make some money out of this global phenomenon known as ‘Not Drowning, Mothering'”. And I laugh gaily at the idea that some guy in Paris occasionally reading my blog makes it global. Because it so totally does. And as for “phenomenon”, you could argue that what has recently squirted out of my children’s bottoms is a phenomenon, so yes, “global phenomenon” this blog must surely be. 

But how to make money from it? Getting advertisers on board my site seems near impossible since Huggies won’t touch me because I drink too much and Smirnoff won’t touch me either because I drink too much and all while in charge of small children, no less. And in any case, I could end up like The Bloggess and have to advertise “coochy shaving cream” (True story. See her post entitled “It’s like a cross between being insulted and entertained. I’m insultained.“). Knowing my luck, I’d end up having to do some contractually-obliged and oh-so-casual product placement in my posts (“A lot of people say to me ‘How do you get your coochy so smooth?’…”).

So, other than using this site as a platform to auction off my vital organs, I really couldn’t think of a way of capitalising on Brand NDM. But then a passing comment by regular contributor The Lion Tamer about the nature of the Incredibly Pathetic Crying Lady’s costume got me thinking… The next thing I knew, I had stepped into the heady world of custom merchandising and, after a few hours of pissing about in PhotoShop, had sketched out some initial ideas. Here they are:

The Incredibly Pathetic Crying Lady Action figure!

ipcl_actionfigure

Okay, okay, so her waist is about as thick as my arm and I've got Buckley's chance of walking in those heels - but what's the point of having an alter-ego if you don't get to look Shit Hot?

The NDM Novelty T-shirt Range

“Because if it ain’t worth saying on a t-shirt, it ain’t worth saying”.

tasty2

Top Tip: Spice your look up with fresh food stains!

latepass

For the record, late passes are best eaten pre-salted with tears.

newblack

It's funny how just putting it on a t-shirt makes it true.

team3

"Team Aniston" and "Team Jolie" t-shirts are soooooo 2005.

The NDM Apron Range

For the Happy and Not-So-Happy Homemaker in your life… 

cupcakeapron

As the Viscomte de Blah Blah Blah said in "Dangerous Liaisons": It's beyond my control.

morebutter

Because too much is never enough

beer_apron

A Mr NDM Concept. He told me: "You can wear while cooking, and I can wear it when I'm a bit queasy after the pub"

The NDM Home Library

Like my five posts a week doesn’t give people enough to read already…

All Amazing True Stories!

All Amazing True Stories!

easyvirtue

Not quite an accurate depiction of my family since we stopped cross-dressing Tiddles shortly before he turned 2. But still...

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So there you go. Now, if I can just put these pictures in a PowerPoint presentation and add some animated bullet points, I’ll have myself a marketing plan… And once I’ve got myself a marketing plan, I can start doing complex financial modeling (and that) and maybe even knock up a few charts in Excel. Then I can present those charts to the bank and make them give me Free Money. Free, I tells ya! Well, free for at least for 30 years, but by then it will be my children’s problem…

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You can usually spot a local council rep a mile off. For one thing, they tend to wear little name badges, stride about writing things down on clipboards and drive vehicles that have been strongly branded with the Council Logo.

When Mr Justice was an Angry Young Toddler and I had a newborn Pixie, I was lucky enough to encounter one of these Important Types in the local park doing some kind of assessment of the play equipment. The friend I was with and I took the opportunity to go over and give some unsolicited feedback about the park – you know, Voice of the People and all.

Now, I can’t remember but I might have mentioned my Champagne Drinking Fountain Concept to this particular council rep, which, quite frankly, is Pure Genius. But, come to think of it, I don’t recall this particular rep backing Right Off and calling the authorities, so it’s possible that I restricted my comments to the fact that the park would be perfect if only it had a gate at the main street end.

“Oh, but surely,” the council rep responded with a small patronising smile. “That’s just a matter of supervision.”

Of course, only being a few weeks past giving birth, I wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders. So it wasn’t until much later that I thought I should have politely enquired whether he, himself, had any children and if so, whether he had ever had to run after a toddler heading towards the main road while heavily pregnant and with his pelvis on the verge of spontaneously dislocating. Somehow, I think not.

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