Feb 02 2007

Shazzer sells out, sort of…

No Dear Readers, your eyes are not deceiving you…that is indeed a Google AdSense box in the right-hand sidebar.

Now I know there are some folks who are absolutely mortified by the appearance of ads on a blog they like to read, especially if they suspect that the blog’s content is in any way altered or influenced by the advertisers. Then there are other folks who barely notice ads on the blogs they like to read and/or could care less about them. Guess which category I fall into?  ;^D 

The fact is that I’ve been thinking about placing some small and unobtrusive text ads on ShazzerSpeak for quite awhile just to see if I could earn enough to cover the cost of my hosting and domain name registration. (You can also get here via www.shazzerspeak.com.)  But I was never quite sure when would be the best time to do it. I’ve always assumed that you needed to have a certain level of traffic to make it worthwhile…but no one seems to know exactly how much traffic that is.

So I made an arbitrary decision that if ShazzerSpeak ever reached the point where it was getting an average of 1,000 hits a day over the course of an entire month,  I’d go ahead and "monetize it", as they say in the blogosphere. Quite honestly, I wasn’t sure it would ever happen, but January must have been a really boring month for some people since so many of them ended up here.

I’ve selected the smallest panel of ads possible, and I’ve set the colour palette so that it’s really obvious what they are…and hopefully they will do what they are supposed to do without pissing too many people off.

And just too reassure you that the commercialization of ShazzerSpeak won’t have any impact on the bodily function stories that occasional make their way on to these pages…let me tell you about being trapped in the Quiet Car of the train this morning with someone who’d obviously had a curry for breakfast.  This wasn’t just a case of bad gas…it was a cloud that lingered the entire length of the trip. If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn that someone had actually dropped a load in their pants.

Either that, or they had a dirty diaper in their briefcase.

Feed my ego!

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