It’s not like we’ve had content to slather upon your eyes like careless mustard gobs on a stadium dog because you’re too busy watching who’s on first. Or maybe because LaBron and the Big Hurt are too busy out back guzzling Jolt and Test-O-Max. Nor is it because we don’t want a hippopotamus for Christmas or none of the above. No.
Not at all. Perhaps it’s because everyone is now a digital marketer, and unless your butt is perfectly tanned and you have Italian 10-pack abs or 2 huge globes of silicone propping up your chin and rent, you’re a loser. Give up and jump off the bridge.
You are NOT one of the beautiful privileged elite. You DON’T carry a pink chiwawhatever-it-is in your purse nor are you RRRrrrrrrrrr(role of the tongue) ico Suave. ( Gotta dig deep when you pronounce SWA-vaaaay ) No.
What to do? Now that the 5-yr-old next door is punking algorithms for a fortune 500 company and earning more in one week than his baby daddy has in his entire life, WTF do you do?
Because nothing will be the new marketing. The generation after the Millennials will be SO SICK of everything they’ve been FORCED to see, they’ll seek out the unseen. And there you are, sitting on a billion in back stock. Meanwhile, the Gen X’r who’s kept 5 mini storages full of geek glory’s gonna rave on with his nothing business.
Meet me out back at the mini storage shack for that $1000.00 Motley Crue Shout At The Devil original vinyl. And I’ll throw in some notebook p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p- ( say it like the guy in Water World ) paper.
No cats were harmed while writing this post.