Yo, Tech Answer Guy,
Men in my family have a hard time with hair. We go more or less directly from the baldness of birth to the baldness of old age; any hair our heads may sport in between seems to be a confusing accident. A light-coloured, wispy confusing accident. To be sure, it saves us money on unclogging drains, but the downside is that my forehead’s size lies somewhere between a normal human being and a hyperintelligent original series Star Blap alien.
Naturally, I found a way to monetize this.
I got a digital tattoo across my forehead. When I’m alone, I watch my favourite TV shows on it. I have a mirror attachment for my skull. You’d be surprised how quickly you learn to read words that are backwards.
When I’m out with friends, my tattoo displays advertising based on their interests. So, for instance, when I used to have lunch with my friend Oscarina, the ad on my forehead would be for tampons and deodorant sprays. Hmm…I haven’t seen her in a while. I should really call her and see what she’s doing.
Or, to use another example, when I used to go clubbing with my friend Flapjack McSnaredoodle (what can I say? It was the sixties…), my forehead would light up with advertisements about bail bondsmen and criminal attorneys. I thought it was some kind of glitch in the system, until Flapjack was arrested for selling unlicensed hair removal creams to bored suburban housewives. Who knew? Flapjack is kept really busy in prison, and never seems to have time for a visit, but he should be out in 30 years with good behaviour, so maybe I’ll see him then.
When my former friends Pete and Meredith invited me on a double date with a woman named Guernica, my forehead flashed divorce attorney ads at them all night. Now, neither one will speak to me, but, honestly, their marriage must have been on the rocks long before that night, right? Talk about shooting the messenger! Oh, and the thing with Guernica didn’t work out either: apparently the Lablah Pale and Scaled Ice Ale ads my tattoo arranged for her conflicted with her AA teachings.
So, all in all, the deal was working out well. Or, so I thought. International Harvester and Reaper, the company that books the ads for my forehead, has decided to void our contract. Can you believe that? They say I don’t have enough of an audience for their ads to cover their administrative costs, let alone turn a profit! I thought I was doing okay, but apparently the Nielsen ratings never lie.
What should I do?
Sincerely,
Jean-Raul from Geneva
Yo, Jeanny,
The way I see it, you got three options.
ONE: Abandon advertising and rent out your forehead to visual artists looking to expand the audience for their works. Of course, if you’re walking down the street with a drip painting on your forehead, some people walking in the opposite direction may suffer from vertigo, but the odds of you being labeled a public health hazard aren’t that high.
TWO: You know how some men have trouble proposing to their girlfriends? Yeah, me neither. (Misses The Tech Answer Guy did all the heavy lifting early in our relationship. Given what actuaries tell us, the early part of our relationship will last for another seven and three quarters years – phew!) Still, I hear it happens. You could rent out your forehead to send messages of love for shy suitors (sort of like the way they do it at sports stadiums, but without the overpriced beer and arguments about where to park). And, the beauty part is that if you pretend to be delivering a pizza or fixing broken pipes, you may not be arrested for perving on a perfect stranger!
THREE: I’d like to throw an idea out there and see if its strikes a spinal cord with you. Could it be – hypodermically speaking – that International Harvester and Reaper isn’t very good at matching ads to the people you’re with? Perhaps you should be looking for an advertising company that won’t, you know, alienate all of your friends? Just a thought.
The Tech Answer Guy
If you are a dude with a question about the latest technology, ask The Tech Answer Guy by sending it to questions@lespagesauxfolles.ca. Just remember: You’re having trouble with the fact that the new Miss America, Nina Davuluri, is of Indian descent? Really? What are you gonna do when a Ventrosian Squiggle-American wins? And, can I get video of your head exploding when she does?