Emails I just sent to a PR person who is probably very nice and who I will certainly regret being snarky to tomorrow once I’ve had sleep and once Victor is home from the hospital (He’s fine, btw. He just had a metal plate and a bunch of screws put in his arm. A metal plate in your arm is totally the new black. Plus, they brought him a morphine cart, which everyone on twitter agreed sounds AWESOME. Except for one guy who thought I said “morphine cat” but he thought that sounded pretty fucking rad too. Hard to disagree with that. But now I’ve forgotten what I was going to write about. Oh yeah. PR emails and why even polite harassment makes me sigh deeply to myself):
Email from actual PR person: Hi…I thought this new innovation in bras would interest you and your readers.
Same PR person, days later: Hi again. Just a friendly follow up. I thought this new innovation in bras would interest you and your readers.
me: I only do paid ad spots. Attached is my rate sheet. Thx.
PR person: I dont handle advertising
me: And I don’t offer random bra advertisements for free. We seem to be at an impasse.
me again, seconds later: Just a friendly follow-up reminder that I still don’t post free bra ads on my blog. I know you didn’t ask but the silence implied to me that you might need a reminder. I assume that’s how silence works.
PS. Here’s a picture of Wil Wheaton collating:
someone who is usually much nicer when she doesn’t come home from a day at the hospital to find 169 new reminders of blog pitches that she just finished reading and deleting the day before.