Last week, I made fun of businesses that “pay” bloggers to talk about their products. I became a hero to consumer advocates everywhere, a Ralph Nader of the blogosphere.
That exact night, in a bizarre twist of fate, I received an email from Sprint. In it, someone from Sprint wrote that after reading “Citizen of the Month,” they wanted to invite me to be part of the Sprint Ambassador Program. As an “ambassador” for Sprint, I would receive a free phone with free calls, emailing, etc. for six months.
The Sprint Ambassador Program is all about exploring our latest products and services and allows you to give direct feedback to Sprint. We recently launched the Sprint Power Vision (SM) Network and want to provide you with the full experience, at no charge. Sprint Power Vision Network enables customers to download data at faster speeds and experience new data products.
I wasn’t required to do anything, but I wasn’t discouraged about writing good things about Sprint on my blog. At first, I thought this was some sort of Nigerian scam, but I Googled the program, and found out it was legit.
“Go for it,” said Sophia. “Then give the free phone to me.”
“Why should I give it to you? They want me to use it.”
“Neilochka, you still haven’t figured out how to use your current phone.”
She was right about my lack of interest in my current phone. And what type of ambassador would I really be? Would I have to keep on bugging my readers to switch from Cingular and T-Mobile? I could imagine the post I would be writing in a month:
Hey, blogger pals! Have you seen Sprint‘s new phones lately? SEXY! And Sprint‘s sound quality? I haven’t actually listened to it yet, but I know it is the best in the business. You can hear a pin drop! And I’m not just saying this in the hope that Sprint extends my use of a free phone to one year. Of course not. As a fellow blogger, I care about you. That’s why I strongly advise all of you to go out RIGHT NOW and…
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted with a tapping sound.
“Uh, excuse me…”
I looked down and saw my penis tapping me on the right thigh.
“What is it, Penis?”
“I guess I should also come clean with your readers.”
“Jeez, Penis, I don’t think my readers want to hear the details about what happened while watching Cheryl Burke, Drew Lachey’s amazingly sexy dance partner, do the mambo on ABC’s “Dancing with the Stars.”
“No, not that. I also got an email from a company wanting to recruit me. I’m now an official “Trojan Brand Evangelist.”
“What the hell is that?”
“I get to try out Trojan’s new “Super Ribbed for Her Pleasure” condoms for free. Only a select group of A-list penises are asked to be evangelists. Of course, there’s a little promise I made. You’ll have to write about how good the condoms are on your blog.”
“Write about them? I haven’t even used them!”
“But I did.”
“You did? When?”
“While you were sleeping last night, I put one on myself. And they are excellent. Much more comfortable than those awful Japanese ones you bought last time. And with the “Super Ribbing,” women are going to love getting fucked by you.”
“Penis, could you watch your mouth? I have religious people reading this blog.”
“I’m trying to get you laid, you idiot! Now shut up and listen to your big cock!”
“Well, you’re really not that big…”
“Shut up, moron! It’s all about salesmanship! You’re never going to get anywhere without selling yourself. No matter whether its cell phones, condoms, blogs, or getting some pussy.”
“Penis. I must insist you stop talking like that. I pride myself on being a feminist. I don’t think women should be objectified as sex objects.”
“Think about it, dumbass. Why do you think you’re not getting laid? Women like sex. Don’t you read your own comments? They even like getting spanked. So stop asking Sophia, “Would you like to fool around?” in a meek little voice! Carry her to the bed, go between her legs, and don’t come up until she’s screaming for yours truly, your cock, in Russian and Hebrew.”
“That’s enough out of you… or I’m going to wash your mouth with soap.”
“Ooh, please do. By the way, Neilochka, that was an interesting IM conversation you had with that female blogger last night.”
“It was completely innocent. We talked about stat counters and blogging.”
“Oh, you wanted to blog her alright. So did I. Several times that night.”
“Penis, she’s married.”
“So? Her husband never has to find out. After all, soon you’re going to have an extra, untraceable Sprint cell phone to give her as a secret “fuck me” line.”
“A “fuck me” line? Are you crazy? I’m a Sprint Ambassador, not a pimp. What would Sprint say?”
“They’d love it. Think of their sales! Think of the ad campaign: “A new reason to get another Sprint phone.””
“Please, Penis. It’s like you alway have just one thing on your mind.”
“Salesmanship. Neilochka! Remember — it’s always Salesmanship!”