Taylor the Teacher

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Just in case the set of commands in place for this page on myspace calls for the above text, images, and links to change all the time, I took this screenshot ~and no i’m not linking to it. someone might come get me~ This particular arrangement of text is temporary. And it’s funny.

As I was scrolling, the first thing I saw was “cosmic guidance,” with a promise to let me know what the planets have in store for me so I can plan my week. ~if the planets don’t know more than a week out, what’s the point?~

Then I saw it was right underneath content ~ads?~ on how to seduce random people on the beach according to their birthdays. Just in case I already have a lover, their authoritative source can let me know FOR SURE that I’m compatible with him.

After the hey-baby-what’s-your-sign article, the expert profile, the cosmic guidance that’s just a click away, it’s no problem if I start to feel confused. I can just get a tarrot card reading. From an EXPERT.

I said all that to say this:

I put some ads up on my blog— what with the leaving teaching thing. I hated doing it because I’d rather remove my ovaries with an oyster fork than watch television advertising. It hijacks all activity in the room by being UNBELIEVABLY LOUD and incredibly stupid. It’s just rude.

Television commercials feel way too much like someone’s making me his bitch. They violate my mind and the space in my home.

I would never want you to feel that way.

If you see something good, click on it. If you don’t, please ignore. Forgive the asinine shit the code throws my way. ~or point it out & laugh. or make a poem out of it~ I’ll try to keep the capitalists to a dull roar. If you have suggestions, I’m all ears… but please don’t stop reading.

That would make me cry. ~plus, i need new clothes for next week’s photo shoot~