11,000 FOLLOWERS FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

America I want to thank you for giving a retired drug dealer and master of mistakes a voice. I can’t thank you enough for the 2,900 wonderful comments, over 80,000 views, countless reblogs, sexting and urging me to write my book. Its been a long first year, over 100 posts and now 11,000 disciples. I can’t say how grateful I am so I will show you. I always believed actions were louder then words anyway. My book PLAYING YOUR HAND RIGHT: SHOWING AMERICA HOW TO LIVE is about life, love, sex, crime, and when she breaks your nose during sex. I wanted to make America laugh and maybe class the world up a notch.
During this year I have gotten countless questions on how I got so many disciples. To say thanks for following and buying books I’m going to give you my opinion on how to blog. FOR FREE. Although I wouldn’t mind if you bought a copy of my book.   http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Layout
My blog is clean and neat. No widgits, gidgits, gadgits, esoteric nonsense or the other techno babble I will never understand. When I was at art school I had a great professor who really got into the psychology of web design and I listened close. First always use a white or subtle yellow as background it is the easiest on the readers eyes. No moving images, white font on black or the other A.D.D. options, they make the text hard to read and tire the readers eyes faster making them unable to read more then twenty min. I want people to come to my blog and read my writing not check the weather it’s distracting to the reader. K.I.S.S. Keep It Simple Stupid is my message on layout. Get rid of all the background and extra crap. We are bloggers not web designers. But we can learn a thing or two from them.

Tags and Categories
This is one of the most unused easy things to do for us bloggers. An old web design trick is make the spiders work for you. We call spiders the search engine programs and they are designed to find key words your searching for. Using the Tags and categories is an easy way to get more traffic. Will this get you 11,000 followers? No but it will get you two more every day and if your a good writer those two will tell two and is spreads. First and for most add “sex” to your tags and categories. Sex is the most searched for term in the internet and word press will even make you laugh by telling you what funny dirty thing people search for. Here is what my site brought in today “tight hand and sex, lighting farts on fire, sxe amerka, sex live in america” Makes me giggle every day what it says. So with sex find 20 other categories your writing falls under and post in them. I have a list I just copy and paste into the tags section no matter what I have written about. Well, lets face it, most of my writing is about sex, drugs, boats and crime anyway. If you cant think of any here is my list to get you started you just copy and paste into the tag section (Antares 44 I, blog award, boats, Busted, cancer, car accident, car break down, Cars, change, children, Cocaine, college, Cops, crime, Dad, Death, Drinking, Drug Dealing, Family, Father, funny, growing up, hash, humor, inspiring, journey, Life, Playing Your Hand Right, quest, robbers, robbery, Sailing, Sex, sex toys, strip clubs, Suicide, Survival, SWAT, Taylor Oceans, Uncategorized, Valentines Day, Weed) These tags are vital when your starting out but now I rarely use categories anymore although I should. So no more posting in only uncategorized America, noob mistake make the spiders work for you. I hate the bastards and they scare the crap out of me but in the digital world spiders are my friends.

Haters
Yes America the world is full of haters the key is to ignore them. Do not fight back they are not worth your time, will never change, and all your doing is dropping to their level. I know that sounds like something you tell a four year old but this is a digital world. If someone said this shit to my face I would have them knee capped while I stand over them laughing, smoking and drinking rum. Since you can’t beat their ass just trash the comments. I receive about one a month. Some person who has spent there entire life is the suburbs and believe they know everything without any real word experience. I get the drug dealers are trash, kid killers, and poster children for abortion once a month. I’m sure I attract more then your average blogger given the controversial topics and my background, but simply put. You will never make everyone happy and like you so give up now, be yourself. Raise your rum and say :To all those who wish us well cheers. To all the rest may you burn in hell.” Just accept that some people will not like your writing and would love to make you quit. Now let me tell you a tale. After the first two months of my blogging I got a hater. He commented on every post and trashed me. He told people not to follow me, and plenty of other garbage. I posted his comments with my rebuttal. I then made the mistake of not checking on my blog for three days. In that three days I had trashed all the work I had done. It took me 2 months to get my first 200 followers and I went back to 50 in three days. America did not like my rebuttal. I deleted it, his comments and basically started from scratch again. That was the first wall I had to put my head through to keep this blog going and it will not be the last. Don’t waste your time with the haters and trolls, just delete, ignore, have a cig, rum and coke, and maybe some good hard fucking. Write more the next day. Sometimes you have to go away to come back.  We are here to write not, argue with America.

Content
Far be it from me to tell you what to write. You want to write about scifi, cars, politics, what ever go for it, but give the people what they want. What they want in those categories I have no idea I write about crime and fucking. I write about me unpolished and you guys clearly eat up the shit where I hold nothing back, and tell it like it really happened. Many times I want to keep some of myself or my failures out of my writing and portray myself as Don Won on Viagra. However when I get the rum in me and tell it how it is you guys love it. I hold nothing back and expect nothing in return. But I wouldn’t mind if you bought my book.

So that is my quick class on blog success. Keep your format simple, use spiders, be yourself and ignore the haters. Don’t like it kiss my ass its free. But I’m here to show you how to live and I figured I might show some of you a trick or two about blogging.  We all need a little help from time to time.

Accidentally on Purpose
The last secret to my success was this post. Accidentally on Purpose was a post I wrote that went viral hitting 965 views in one day. Now you can use all the tricks of the trade. My B.S. and all the other crap they are trying to sell you on the internet on how to blog right. But what it comes down to is turning heads. I have never done anything by following the rules and I’m not about to start now. Grammar, social norms, and doubters can suck it, I live, fuck and write my way. Find out what the people want out of your writing and give it to them. Do they want to feel secure, enlightened, ashamed, passionate or informed? Give the people what they want and they will stay, read, and follow. The categories, tags, format, and other shit only get them to walk in. You writing must make them stay.

Now for your reading pleasure here is accidently on purpose the post that America made me write a book after reading.

ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE
So one night, I invited a fuck buddy to come by for a night of kinky adulterism. I thought I was cool with all forms of sex till I met this chick. First she tried to finger my ass while blowing me. Not cool ladies. I felt a finger go from fondling balls to my no-no spot. After I removed my fingernails from the ceiling and climbed down, she explained to me that she had banged every guy she had been with. And I don’t mean bang in the good way. I told her not this horse. Line one found.
During another night of sexual shenanigans, she asked me to cut her with a dinner knife. Well, as well as she could ask through a ball gag while she was tied up in the entryway. I thought that would look great; the cops come in, see me with a dinner knife, woman tied up, death by thousand cuts, and boom: head shot. Thoughts of me being gunned down wearing nothing but a condom and holding a magic wand in one hand and a knife in the other was not exactly my kind of night. Also, the sight of blood makes me lightheaded and completely de-rected. Line two discovered.
During one night of sexcapades, I couldn’t recall which; we were having some drinks before the roll playing began. She would come in, bringing her bag of whatever hotness she would wear that night. We would catch up, have a few drinks, she would go change in the bedroom, I would set up that night’s fun, and it was on. Well, during one of these drinking and catching up chats we had a little bit more than usual to drink. I have a bar in my apartment and I was behind it pouring champagne far too fast. We were talking, joking, having a good time, let’s face it ladies, I’m charming. I go to my fridge, get the third bottle of champagne, pull off the foil, wire, aim and fire.
Being the son of a chef and restaurant owner, I am normally one with the cork, but I try to refrain from firing one off in my apartment. You see, I’m a half-assed Buddhist and have a nice Buddha shrine in my living room. Buddha is cool with everything except being shot in the face with a cork and shattered on the floor. I call myself a half-assed Buddhist because I love Karma, but I treat my body like an amusement park not a temple; hence half-assed.
So, there I am in my kitchen, hotness at the bar, with a bottle in my hand and off goes the cork. Trying to impress her, I figure I will shoot the cork down my apartment and pour her a glass. In my haste, I didn’t aim properly and the cork hits the wall across the room. I have both my hands on the bottle when I realize the cork has ricochet off the wall and is coming straight for my eye at the speed of sound. I wondered what the trip to the hospital would be like. Yes, Doctor, I shot myself, but in my emotional throws, my suicide was foiled because instead of a gun I used a bottle of bubbly. How many times have I laughed at the warning labels on champagne bottles and the funny pictures of cartoons hitting themselves with a cork? Is it possible to have sex with a cork in my eye? I figured she would be a little turned off.
There I was, the “Master” trying to pour a glass of champagne for the “Slave” and the dip shit “Master” is going to blind himself with a cork. Premature corkulation. Why couldn’t my parents have said, “Be careful with the bottle of champagne, you’ll shoot your eye out?” I was great with the BB gun. The cork is getting closer to my face and now she is realizing I’m about to be Kennedy-ed. Forget the magic bullet, look at this fucking cork. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her cover her mouth getting ready to laugh, scream, sympathize, however this turns out.
Suddenly, I realize time has stopped. I look at my dog and a drop of drool is floating in the air below him frozen in time. A hummingbird is flying outside the window and its wings are still.
All these thoughts and sights overwhelmed me, yet I couldn’t react to the damn cork about to head shot me. Frozen in time, unable to move, I awaited my inevitable corky fate. Time began again and the cork closed in on its target. I braced for the impact of my masochistic bottle opening, when out of the corner of my eye I see a hand. Moving faster than a fat kid running down an ice cream truck, this hand rises to protect my face. I realize it’s my hand moving and I’m drunker than I thought. I have somehow caught the cork.
Staring at my hand, like a kid who just caught his first fly ball, completely amazed by my subconscious drunken reflexes, I turn to her. She is sitting on the bar stool staring at me as if I have just cured cancer, while climbing Everest to save her from the abominable snowman. Wet. She couldn’t believe it. Had I done this on purpose or accident, she thought to herself. Is my “Master” really this good? Not sure what to do, I came to a sudden conclusion. I handed her the cork with all my misplaced bravado and simply said. “You like my new trick?” And it was on.

I still try to catch the cork when no one is around…
I’m never even close.

As always if you like that take a peak at my book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How to Live and read what America has said about it.  http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans