I don’t have any illusions when I write this blog, I know it’s not going to bring me fame and riches and I think I’m fine with that.
To get fame and riches you have to tow the line and I’ve always been lousy at that so I just write whatever the hell I feel like writing because as long as I’m doing that, keeping the posts up, maybe making a few people laugh here and there, I feel like I’m making some kind of progress, slow as that might be.
I also learned pretty early on that when it comes to a blog site, the very most you can ask of people is that they hit your site. Not even necessarily read your stuff, just hit the site so your numbers tick over.
Anything more than that is an added bonus, something unexpected, which is why I value the comments people leave here so much because that’s the highest level of engagement you could ever ask for on a blog site.
As sad as it might sound the hard truth of the matter is that on the interwebs people wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire and I’m not saying that in an angry or bitter way, I’d be a hypocrite if I were because I wouldn’t piss on anyone if they were on fire either.
Ironically, all this preamble is of course leading to the moment where I ask you guys to help a Tiger out, as futile as that might be, so let’s just skip the foreplay and get down to it.
The gig I had writing for Pulpmag.co.za has unfortunately come to an end. They’d still love to publish my content but due to lack of support from advertisers, can no longer afford to pay me for it and that news couldn’t possibly have come at a worse time.
J-Rab is between jobs at the moment and the money is drying up fast.
I need to land something in the next three weeks, a couple of somethings ideally, so that I can bring home a little extra bacon, so I’m firing this out there into the ether to see if you or anyone you know is looking for a writer, doesn’t matter what it is, I’ll write the shit out of it.
Hit me on firstname.lastname@example.org if you know of anything. I can’t really give you anything in return, but I’ll put in a good word with the universe, we go way back
Yours in soon to be abject squalor,