Posts Tagged ‘scratching around your anal region for material for your blog’

I regard my friend Mzzz E as one of my most effective ‘channels to market’  when it comes to my good works as an international trendsetter. After all, when I first briefed her about ‘Awks Giraffe‘, it took less than a week for one of her supercool friends to be using it on Facebook. Yes, Facebook.

So I couldn’t wait to pitch a new trend I’d been working on to her when we caught up the other day.

“I’ve got this idea, right?” I began. “I’m thinking of doing a ‘What’s HOT and what’s NOT list for Christmas’.”

“Tell me about it,” Mzzz E said, all ears.

“Well, because everything I write as being HOT, I end up then dissing anyway and anything that I write as NOT kind of becomes hot simply because I, the NDM, am writing about it… I thought I should morph the two terms so it becomes what is H’NOT this Christmas,” I concluded, triumphantly.

“What?” Mzzzz E said.

“H’NOT!” I repeated, with gusto.

“… And?” Mzzzz E said.

“It’s neither HOT nor NOT. It’s H’NOT!” I repeated again, widening my smile to the point of almost cracking my face in two.

She just looked blankly back at me. At that moment, I swear I could hear a tree falling alone in a forest.

To be honest, I must admit I felt hurt and a little confused. I mean, c’mon people!  She was an instant adopter of ‘Awks Giraffe’ but wasn’t going to touch ‘H’NOT’? The mind boggled. H’NOT was so…. so…. H’NOT!

The topic of conversation swiftly changed and any attempts to put H’NOT back on the table were swiftly dismissed by the obviously discerning Mzzz E. Eventually, I let it go.

Then, yesterday morning, after an hour of sitting at my computer trying to work out what the hell I could write about this week, I burst out of my room, all smiles.

“I’ve got it!” I said to my husband. “I’m going to blog about ‘H’NOT’! And how Mzzz E refused to board the H’NOT train! And how that’s all her mistake because that there train’s an express to the stars, baby!”

[Which, now I think about it, probably makes it more a rocket ship than a train, but somehow, saying Mzzz E was refusing to board the H’NOT rocket ship doesn’t sound as good.]

“You’re really scratching around for material at this time of year, aren’t you?” my husband responded, shaking his head.

“That in its very self is so H’NOT, it’s not funny,” I replied.



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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!


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”.


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


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


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


"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… 


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


Because too much is never enough


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!


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


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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When I was a child, the state I lived in turned 150. A Year of Celebrations and Wonder was kicked off with a big New Year’s Eve concert where “Fat Cat”, “Percy Penguin” and “Rolf Harris” headlined. And then Prince Charles planted a tree! Reports vary but it is generally agreed that someone somewhere stayed up til at least midnight revelling and may even have opened a second longneck of Swan Lager. They don’t call it the State of Excitement for nothing. 

And so “150” has always been Very Significant Number to me and, since this is my 150th post and I totally forgot to do anything special for my 100th post, here are some more special numbers…

Number of days since I started blogging = 192

Number of hits I’ve had since I started blogging = 20,073

Average number of hits per day = 104.54

Frequency which my readership-of-three would have had to hit refresh on their browser to achieve that average and thus keep my spirits buoyant = 34.84 times per day or 1.45 times per hour over a 24 hour period. 

Number of times I would think that I, personally, would be able to refresh my browser every hour if I truly ruly loved someone = 60

Number of comments that I’ve received on my blog = 1014

Number of comments excluding hate mail = 7

Number of times I’ve gratuitously mentioned “lactating asian babes”= 7 (including this one – notice the correlation with comments?)

Number of stuffed bears that I’ve gotten drunk = 1

Number of love-heart shaped cakes I’ve made = 7

Number of days I’ve actually owned the love-heart shaped tin that made those cakes = 8

Number of boob cakes I’ve ended up decorating because of all this pressure from people coming to my blogsite to find instructions on how to decorate a boob cake =  2 (or a pair) 

Number of posts I’ve written while completely rat-arsed drunk on cheap fizz = 0

Number of posts people have suspected that I’ve written while completely rat-arsed drunk on cheap fizz = 150

Number of places my technorati rating has risen since I last moaned about it =  748,092 (I’m ranked 672,523 now. Yep, I’m bloggin’ with the Big Boys now)

Number of people who have officially subscribed to my blog = 21

Number of people who have subscribed to my blog who aren’t a blood relative or have done it under duress because I know where they live = 9

Number of lonely whiskies my husband claims to have sobbed into while I stayed up late at night writing = 150 

Number of actual whiskies my husband has enjoyed while he has stayed up late at night listening to Tom Waits = 450 

Number of further significant numbers that I can come up with for this “Night of Night” post = 0

And without further ado, heeerrrrrrrrre’s Fat Cat!



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