Once I was even offered a coffee maker. This seems like a good fit, because I do adore self-medicating my ADHD with coffee. But it was one of those coffee makers that requires its own special, special coffee. I declined, because what the hell? I'm going to write about some coffee maker that requires its own brand of coffee? First of all, I can't afford the special coffee that goes with the special coffee maker. Neither can 99 percent of my readers. Also, I already have a coffee maker that kicks ass, and I don't want to disrespect it by bringing some tarted-up trollop into my kitchen. So, no thanks.
Several times, I have received pitches offering me chocolate. This sounds awesome, except the chocolate comes wrapped in Bible quotes or something. So I think in this case, the PR company missed the part in my "About Me" page where I explain that I am a heathen. Chocolate Easter bunnies are about as religious as I want to get with my chocolate.
Up until today, the worst PR pitch I had ever gotten was the one trying to get me to review a toilet training program for cats. I mean, seriously. I can't even potty-train my kid. I certainly am not going to attempt to potty-train my freaking cats. If I had even a moment left over that might be spent on the cats, it's going to be spent napping with the cats. You know what I have done instead? Trained my older children to scoop out the kitty litter boxes. Problem solved, and it didn't involve seeing my cat squatting on the toilet.
This was the worst PR pitch yet, but it has lost that honor. At least I actually have cats, so somewhere in the realm of possibility, existed the chance that I might give a crap about their product.
Today I got a PR pitch for some iPhone app for the magazine that touts itself as "the definitive luxury lifestyle brand." The app can give you invites to exclusive "black card functions" that may be attended by executives from top luxury brands like Aston-Martin, Tiffany & Co., Bellagio, and more.
This is so far off the mark, I don't even know where to begin. I'm not sure what a "black card" is. Is it like a maxed-out credit card? If so, I might be able to attend. Usually, I am invited to functions that may be attended by small, sticky children, and I drive to these functions is a minivan full of empty juice boxes and smashed Goldfish crackers.
Confession: I don't know what Bellagio is. It sounds like a delicious cheese. I don't even care enough to Google it to find out what it really is, because I already know that even if it is a delicious cheese, it's a delicious cheese I cannot afford.
Speaking of Googling, I cannot imagine what the hell this PR person was smoking and/or Googling to come up with my blog as a suitable site for a luxury lifestyle app. I tend to write about ramen noodles and wiping butts. Maybe the post I wrote called My Weekend Shopping: Vodka, Enemas, and Untamed Va-Jay-Jays. That one had a graphic of Skyy vodka, so perhaps one might think that I embody the luxury lifestyle. 'Cause, you know, I was shopping. And bought vodka. Of course, I also bought a pediatric enema. Soooooo luxurious, I know.