Honest Critiques
No, I mean it. REAL honest. Email your excerpts or full stories, up to 1000 words or so, to honestcrits [at] yahoo [dot] co [dot] uk. Synopses would also be welcome. My backlog is so daunting now that I recommend not submitting anything you are not prepared to wait a couple of months for a response on.
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Saturday, September 03, 2005
Tomorrow...
...I've got Emmet's fantasy novel Darkwing and Michael's update on Candide, Hollywoodland, for you. Tomorrow, meaning Saturday, that is.
I see Google Ads have decided this is a good place to advertise essay-cheating services. Nice one, Google. Can we have the ads for perineal massage oil back, please?
Why not click here instead?
I see Google Ads have decided this is a good place to advertise essay-cheating services. Nice one, Google. Can we have the ads for perineal massage oil back, please?
Why not click here instead?
Torgo, 2:38 am
5 Comments:
That's one example of why I chose NOT to have Google advertising on my blog! I sympathize with your plight, but sometimes the money isn't worth the effort!
It looks like it's back to blog ads as of this response.
But seriously, I put adsense on bumpersticker rant. And at one point it trailed off into advertising somehing besides bumperstickers and I email them and they had it fixed for me the next day. They also gave me hints on how to make sure my ads stayed targeted in the future. That's why I left the ads on, I would never have guessed that the customer service would have been that good. And I haven't had any problems since.
But seriously, I put adsense on bumpersticker rant. And at one point it trailed off into advertising somehing besides bumperstickers and I email them and they had it fixed for me the next day. They also gave me hints on how to make sure my ads stayed targeted in the future. That's why I left the ads on, I would never have guessed that the customer service would have been that good. And I haven't had any problems since.
Hey Torgo, where are ya'? By my account today is Sunday. You seemed to have missed Saturday, but maybe you're caught is some Superman world that spun backwards and you're still on Friday.
Maybe it's cricket, Bonnie, maybe it's not cricket, and my "mommy fuss" gene kicks in and begins to worry about some disaster.
My thoughts are you are buried under piles of manuscripts and no can hear you cry out for a decent pitch fork or perhaps a forklift. Besides, isn't pub time where you are> I've four more hours to go here.
