Maybe I'll get ads about ads now

Dude, Google AdWords is so lame. I added it to my blog thinking, hoping, praying against every sense of rationality, decency and pride that I could make a bit of extra cash off of it. 

I don't really know why I thought it would work -- my friends are too smart to fall for banner ads (They're also too smart to get sucked into reading whatever swill I'm jotting down here every week. Damn my awesome taste in people.), and I don't think my parents trust the Internets enough to click anything.

Even if my friends and parents were the sort of mythical, click-happy, Web-trolling consumers that all these ads are made for (and who are those people? Do they really exist? I imagine they're all in some godforsaken place, like Arkansas, trapped in a 1960s fallout shelter, and the only way for them to understand the present day is to mash any Internet button they can...I don't know why the bunker has Web access.), what in the world would make Google think that my friends would want the particular ads they have chosen?

Am imagined scene in the life of "Jolly" John Bavoso: 

"La la la, I'm just reading Lauren's blog. Man, I am such a good friend to plow through this every week. Oh, look, she's angry about something again...

"OoooooooOO - why, yes! I DO want an Eliot [redacted to keep the ad from reappearing] ringtone!"

What in the name of ham sandwich is a [redacted] ringtone? Does it play high-class stripper music? Does it only sound when your pimp is calling? Is it legal in the state of New York?

I demand answers, Google! Drag out your giant brain machine and make it speak to me!

If the G-team were really all that smart they would have ads for free beer and ice cream -- those are the things that appeal to the type of people who read this blog. Or maybe an ad for funny things - "Hey People! Tired of the soul-crushing disappointment that comes from reading thelaurenbell every week? Come read funny things here!" 

As it is, I'm not expecting a cheque for my AdWords contributions any time soon. . . unless you're all secretly huge fans of Abigail Adams (really, Google? Can we get at least get this shiz updated at some point? I was angry at John Adams, like, two weeks ago). 

News Update: Eliot Spitzer Ruins Everything

So Eliot Spitzer, governor of New York, was busted today for taking part in a "high-class" prostitution ring. 

Note #1: Honey, just because they're actually women and you pay them a lot doesn't make them classy. Nice try there, though. Imagine if he had been busted for taking part in a "skanky-ass, chlamydia-ridden, reality-TV-ready prostitution ring." Someone give his press people a bonus. 

Note #2: When I first saw the headline for this story, I read it to mean that Eliot Spitzer was a high-class prostitute. (insert hackneyed 'politics is full of prostitutes' joke...[wait for it]...here). Wasn't he once known as the Sheriff of Wall Street or some such boondoggle? God, what a great stripper theme -- money and assless chaps. I can see where he would be tempted to try it.

And #3, the real tragedy: Because I am an ignorant, apolitical fool, I didn't really care about his little shenanigans (especially when I could no longer picture our once-esteemed governor showing up at someone's hotel room wearing something sassy). 

What I did care about was coming home from my horrible job and winding down with some Jeopardy at 7:00. I fed my fish, removed my shoes and plopped down, only to find Eliot Spitzer's face where Alex Trebek's should be! Coverage of that philandering phool (Spitzer, not Trebek) had superseded all my Daily Doubles and questions posed as answers! Yelling at the face of a stupid politician on TV is simply not as soothing as yelling out answers to esoteric questions. Watching Spitzer apologize for getting caught doesn't make me feel smug -- I still don't know if I am smarter than him, and I certainly haven't won more money -- it just makes me feel shocked a disappointed. 

Minor note, 3a: The worst part about the "breaking news" that totally destroyed my evening: it was mostly the News Team talking to "New York Voters" out on the street. The problem: all of their men on the street were people grabbed straight from Times Square. At 7 at night. How many of those people do you think are from New York at all? I don't need to hear that some Ohio tourist is surprised to hear the news about our governor (and no shit you won't vote for him, lady -- we all know you are here to see Spamalot). What I need to hear right now is the name of the second-highest mountain range in the 27th latitude. 

Moral: Spitzer ruins lives.