Showing posts with label Outlook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Outlook. Show all posts

Saturday, 15 October 2022

Fame and Fortune the Slappers Way

I am contemplating the suggestion that I ought to set up a video link and offering myself to the world on 'Only Fans' or some such channel.  One of my young women has made this suggestion and I have been cogitating on it all day.  
Obviously the days of the week would determine the normal routine, though some may not notice a difference, and carrying the camera through the park and into Tesco or wherever might find some difficulties arising.  Especially with that big bloke on security at Sainsburys.  
However, my daily trip to the laptop ought to be worth something cash wise from DELL, as it is their machine that is driving me mad.  Also Microsoft would get many a mention throughout the day, just as they did yesterday when I could not work my way through 'Outlook' as it has been amended again by a 13 year old maniac.  Their name was used often.
'Firefox,' would get less attention as bad language is rare with that browser, but for a fee it could be mentioned daily.  As indeed would 'Opera,' which I use to scribble this rubbish as it has a much used spellchecker on it.  
A camera in an appropriate place would offer views of me slumming it working during the morning, hopefully with a bit of sunshine creeping in.  I say 'working,' I mean 'reading the online press and Twitter.'  My opinions are freely offered loudly if the neighbours are out.   Surely there is a number of viewers for such a sight?  
Also, when I rise, like Larry the Cat chasing a Fox from Downing Street, the viewers would then enjoy my catering skills at the oven.  Brandishing sauces (donated by a variety of companies) while placing mince pies from Murdoch's Butchers in Forres in the oven would surely acquire interest from the far north.  Indeed even abroad!  The dash and daring with which I stir the pot, throwing in, and I mean throwing, a variety of spices, sauces, and things found at the back of the freezer, would be an encouragement to many in these 'hard up times.'   Enabling the world to note how a large pan can produce enough soup for a week must be worth something, if even only to the 'Food Banks!'  


'Waterstones' and 'Amazon,' not to say 'World of Books,' must be willing to part company with the readies for an advert?  I could pose on the filthy couch surrounded by their offerings, reading the latest (non-fiction) tome that has been obtained through a gifted book token.  My opinion would surely be of benefit to the aspiring author, to those concerned with the subject, and readers desiring to purchase.
Doing this while quaffing 'Sainsburys Red Label Tea,' or 'Bells Scotch Whisky,' surely would deserve a decent response?  
The surrounding scenery, the dust on the mantlepiece, the unhoovered floor, the drying washing hanging around like a bad smell,  would ring a bell with many a man devoid of women to tidy up.  They too would enjoy the coverage of football, even if their team was losing.  After all, it's not whether you win or lose but how you play the game.  All football fans agree to this.
What...?  Oh!
Obviously, with the latest Tory Chancellor denying outright his intention to become the next Prime Minister and thereby making clear his intention to become the next Prime Minister, we can be assured that energy costs will rise again.  This may mean mush of my coverage on these 'TikTok' channels will be somewhat dark.  This, especially when advertising swimwear, which appears to be the only thing that the women actually do, might of course be better in the dark.  
Political harangues,  football commentary, Sunday sermons (that will bring in the crowds, to complain), travelogues of places I have never visited, family history, until the injunctions arrive, and constant references to 'The War,' though I will probably mean the 'Great One,' are surely the stuff to bring sponsors knocking on my door, instead of 'Hermes Drivers' looking for my neighbour. 
I can start planning the camera positions, not counting the one seeking stars in the sky as there is little room in the sink, and then await the many offers that must fall through my door.  
Of course, if successful the price demands rise accordingly.