How To Create a Successful Blog, and How To Get a Lot of Followers

September 28, 2022September 29, 2022Chel Owens 40 Comments

First, you gotta write some blog posts. On a blog. Here are your rules to follow:

Be hot. Seriously.
Have a site that’s EASY TO READ.
Keep it short. Keep it simple. Use easy words in easy formats.
Be entertaining. You know, like with jokes or sarcasm. Or, just throw in cat gifs.
Include pictures. Or cat gifs.
Write with a good mix of informative and anecdotal. <—That, right there, was not easy words.
Publish something every day. Cat gifs count.

Then, you gotta fish for followers:

Be hot.
Find new bloggers and Like, Comment, and Follow. Reading is optional.
Search for similar blogs and Like, Comment, and Follow.
Reply to every.single.comment on your posts.
Enter contests; answer writing prompts.
Respond to other entrants in those contests and prompts. Not sure what to say? -Pretty sure you can leave them cats.

As a Bonus: don’t fall for The Big Ones as a newbie. I’m talking Christian Mihai-types. But, those are a great place to pick up new ~~suckers~~ bloggers those guys have tricked into following them…

I was going to do a ‘last week I posted this’ breakdown, but the most important thing is the Terrible Poetry Contest. Deadline’s tomorrow, so randomly generate some text and format it poetically.

Just Bad. And the Driving is, Too.

April 14, 2022April 15, 2022Chel Owens 29 Comments

Oft I venture
down
The road but
then there’s some idiot
On her phone

Oh.
thats a him
I think

who Cares the point
is
That person’s putting on makeup and drifting and just picked up a cell phone and then cut off a semi
and
Honked
at
all of
us.

And I’m supposed to be the stereotypical bad driver
On acc
ount of being
a woman
and Utahrn.

*Photo by RODNAE Productions on Pexels.com*. *It’s funny how we all do this now, when we really shouldn’t.*

Ah. Terrible Poetry is always so cathartic.

That’s a Moray

February 19, 2022Chel Owens 36 Comments

I found this oldie-but-goodie online. If the one source I found is correct, we’re not sure who penned this parody:

When the moon hits your eye,
Like a big pizza pie,
That’s amore.

When an eel bites your hand,
And that’s not what you planned,
That’s a moray.

When our habits are strange,
And our customs deranged,
That’s our mores.

When your horse chews dried grass,
And then begs for more, alas,
That’s some more hay.

When your sheep go to graze,
In a damp marshy place,
That’s a moor, eh?

When your boat comes home fine,
And you tie up her line,
That’s a moor, eh?

When Othello’s poor wife,
Becomes stabbed with a knife,
That’s a Moor, eh?

When you ace your last tests,
Like you did all the rest,
That’s some more A’s!

When on Mt. Cook you see,
A long aborigine,
That’s a Maori.

When your chocolate graham
Is so full and so crammed,
That s’more, eh?

http://homepage.ntu.edu.tw/~karchung/intro%20page%2024b.htm

*Photo by Jonathan lajoie on Pexels.com*

Rebooted TV Series are just like cheating husbands: a TV Review – Dexter: Next Blood (2021) – Season 1, Episode 1 — Bookshelf Battle

November 14, 2021November 14, 2021Chel Owens 32 Comments

I’ve been a fan of Bookshelf Battler’s reviews for years. He’s hilarious and often says exactly why I didn’t like a film or show but couldn’t figure out why…

He’s baaaack. BQB here with a review of the sequel series about America’s favorite serial killer with a code. I’ve often said being a fan of a cable TV show is a lot like being the long suffering wife of a husband going through a bad mid-life crisis. There we stand at the doorway in […]
TV Review – Dexter: Next Blood (2021) – Season 1, Episode 1 — Bookshelf Battle

Chelsea, Thy Name is …Aimee?

November 13, 2021November 13, 2021Chel Owens 90 Comments

I’m in a mental crisis. For years, I knew my parents planned to name me something different than the one they switched to. They’d told me. But only yesterday did I learn that they’d intended to also NOT. USE. ITS. PROPER. SPELLING.

*Deep breaths* *Deeeep breaths*

See, a little-known fact about me is that I’m bothered by grammar and spelling errors. I certainly won’t return your birthday present over it, but I can’t help but notice. I can’t help but correct the problem.

A little-known fact about Utah Mormons* is that they are guilty of unique name spellings -including Jaxcon, Danieell, and Stephenie. Yes, these are names I’ve literally seen applied to people. I hate it.

So, naturally, upon learning that I might have not just been an Amy but might have been an Aimee, I’ve been reflecting on how my whole life would be different:

I would be blonde. If not, I’m sure I’d have curls and blue eyes. At the least, I’d be cuter.
If something were funny, I’d legitimately giggle.
My pants size would be …well, at this point, about where it’s at. I would’ve had kids as an (*shudder*) Aimee, too.
My husband would be named Michael.
I’d be interested in “The Bachelor.” Heck; I’d know who The Sexiest Man Alive was instead of needing to Google it every time. Not only that, but I would actually know who he is and would likely fantasize about his running away with me on the back of …an oversized ant.
I would get weekly mani-pedi‘s instead of one in my entire life.
My favorite book would be the latest Eat, Pray, Love sort.
I’d be a frequent shopper at that place that sells scented stuff.
My children would also have unique names. I’m thinking Cashe or Leeder.
Most of all, I would NOT vomit a little in my mouth every time someone spelled my name aloud.

And don’t say I’m overreacting. That would be a Karen thing to do, not an Aimee.

*Mormons are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Business or Pleasure?

November 6, 2021November 6, 2021Chel Owens 56 Comments

I am a Business Showerer.

The instant I’ve guaranteed ten full minutes of distraction for my cute, little distractions; I’m in flight-control checklist mode:

✔Shower curtain, in position
✔Nozzle, adjusted
✔Hot water, started
✔Shampoo, secured
✔Bar soap, on rack
✔Razor, located
✔Towel, ready for reentry
✔Water temperature, adjusted
✔Hair, secured with safety loop

And … go, go, go!

My husband is a Pleasure Showerer.

The hour or so after he’s leisurely caught up on cell phone heralds from his porcelain throne; he’s in contemplative mode:

Tap water released
Phone, atop muddled towels
Awaits naked return

Meanwhile, I take bets on whether the hot water will run out before he does.

*Photo by Tristan Malpelli on Pexels.com*

A Freudian voyeur can analyze our freshly-scrubbed psyches by studying our bars of soap: mine is always a flat, overworked strip; his, a perfectly-caressed quenelle.

Ted and Trudy

September 17, 2021September 20, 2021Chel Owens 27 Comments

Ted and Trudy had been married forever; four years, in fact. Each still said he or she was in love. Still, each found himself or herself dreading the drive home after work.

Their marriage counselor tried. “What you need is to find and speak each other’s love language,” she said.

Ted and Trudy tried.

Physical intimacy didn’t touch on the issue. Spending quality time together made the evening drag on and on. Neither received gifts presently. Words of affirmation didn’t speak to either of them. And we won’t even mention how self-absorbed each became when performing acts of service.

It wasn’t until Ted finally snapped and complained about it all that Trudy felt an unexpected spark.

“Ooooh. Say that again, Ted,” she cooed.

Ted blinked. “Uhhh… the counselor’s charging way too much for something that’s not working?”

“Yes, Ted! Yes! What else isn’t working?”

“Uhh…” he thought for a minute. “That plumber we hired this morning was late, incompetent, and left a mess.”

Trudy sat up and perked up. “What else??”

“No one knows how to drive anymore?” He was starting to get excited as well.

“Yes! Yes!”

“Whenever I go shopping, I can’t ever find a good clerk! How difficult is it to know where the polos are?”

“Ohhh, Ted.” She drew right up to him. “What else?”

“The governor’s an idiot and this country’s being run by imbeciles!”

“YYYYYESSSSS!”

…..

Their counselor was surprised to see them practically bouncing at their next (and last) appointment.

“We did it!” Trudy gushed. “We found our love language!”

“Oh?” the counselor asked, intrigued. “Which is it?”

Ted and Trudy looked at each other, smiled; then, in unison, answered, “Complaining!”

A Voter’s Paradise

April 24, 2021April 25, 2021Chel Owens 40 Comments

All of those attending school
Will get it paid for, as a rule
And all of those who don’t feel up
To working jobs still make a buck.

Doctors, nurses, surgery
Do pristine work, completely free!
For your baby (if you keep it),
You’ll never worry how to feed it.

And parents wanting free day care
Will have a government au pair.
For your dog or cat; chinchilla
Vets will never, ever bill ya.

And all the lawns will get a mow
And all the driveways, free of snow.
Heck! Any leaks or cracks or breaks
Are covered, FREE, make no mistakes!

Food will grow without a weed
Fulfilling everybody’s needs
And, though y’all are sitting ’round
A fat person will not be found.

Your bank accounts will all be full
And backyards all will have a pool.
A mansion’s waiting for your lives;
A sports car’s waiting for your drives.

There’s nothing anyone will want
There’s nothing anyone will need…

Don’t you see?
A vote for me,
Will make things nice:
A paradise.

Hey, it might be possible. Dunno who’s gonna pay for it all, but who cares? Cast your own entry for this month’s A Mused Poetry Contest. You’ve got till May 14th.

Secret Snitch Will Scratch That Itch!

April 15, 2021April 15, 2021Chel Owens 10 Comments

♫ If she says, “Come here!
“My dear!
“There’s something no one else can hear!”
Think of us, and never fear:
The secret-selling championeers!

We pay top price!
We sell, rock-bottom!
And promise no one’s e’er forgotten!

A secret’s safe, till you can pay;
Visit Secret Snitch today! ♫

There are still a few more hours to write a humorous jingle for a product that shouldn’t be sold! C’mon! It’s for the A Mused Poetry Contest.

Grampy’s Burlap Underwear

March 26, 2021March 26, 2021Chel Owens 51 Comments

♫ When your life is without care
And when your nether’s without hair;
To follow laws, you can’t be bare,
So try our burlap underwear.

Grampy’s Burlap Underwear!
Grampy’s Burlap Underwear!
You’ll want to swear
If you’ll but dare
To wear
Ol’ Grampy’s Underwear! ♫

I’m sure to get hired by a PR group soon… Try your own hand at a humorous jingle for a product that shouldn’t be sold for this month’s A Mused Poetry Contest.