Copy for a four product Beauty Routine spread in the Chicago Tribune

Headline: True beauty lasts all day.

The Basic Beauty Routine
Staying beautiful doesn’t have to be complicated or expensive. All of these beauty products are fast, effective all day, and big values to boot. This trusted line delivers everything you need, and nothing you don’t so your savings and your look can both last the whole day.

Skin care
Olay Quench Body Lotion - Deep Moisture
Quench provides an immediate burst of moisture that works overtime by lasting a full 24 hours. This carefully balanced formula lasts all day and all night without any oily feeling or reapplication to give you the carefree velvety skin you deserve.

Hair care
Aussie Hair Insurance Shampoo
A policy to clean and protect: This shampoo is fortified with conditioning ingredients like natural Australian Silk Protein and Ginseng, that leave hair healthy and help protect it against damage all day long for a look that lasts.

Make up
CoverGirl Outlast Lipstick
Outlast does just that. It keeps your lips color-matched and gorgeous through all the woes of your day.  You can keep great lips right through that morning latte, the afternoon meeting, and even your evening Pilates session. Outlast Lipstick by CoverGirI.outlasts them all.

Here are a few automotive / Technical product description samples:

The Power Commander III is the easiest way to improve the performance of your fuel-injected beast. We live in truly fantastic times as evidenced by the fact that this brilliant little box allows you to tune for peak horsepower, monitor your power curves, and adjust your fuel mixture via a simple USB plug. New fuel maps can be downloaded from the net and installed in mere minutes. Stores up to 4 different settings for the street, the track, the commute, varying weather conditions or even different tires and then access them all with the touch of a button. Easy to install and available for most fuel injected models, this is the best first step to take to increase your horsepower and really start getting the most out of your machine. Consult the list below for model compatibility.

The Valentino Rossi T5 Full Moon Replica AGV Helmet features Rossi’s custom designed graphics and the award winning safety of the AGV GP line. Over twenty years of world class racing experience shine through in this miraculously lightweight helmet. Weighing in at only 2.7 lbs. and featuring three separate composite layers, it is both the lightest and safest helmet AGV has ever made. It also features the patented RACE-Tec system that allows for full ventilation control and minimizes wind noise even at track speeds. Available in Montego Blue and Hyper Yellow, both color schemes feature eye-catching race decaling designed by Aldo Drudi and the famed number “46”. Production is limited to 1000 for each color and they are custom made to order. Each helmet is hand numbered and includes a matching certificate of authenticity as well as a limited edition Valentino Rossi poster of his 2009 championship win at Valencia. Please consult the sizing chart on page 53.

This “Burn Rubber” Belt Buckle was designed by famed automotive designer Ralph Gilles, known the world over as the lead designer of the new Dodge Charger and the Chrysler 300 sedan. It is drop forged out of industrial strength steel and features detailed ceramic inlays that bring Gilles’s original and vibrant imagery to life. Comes ready to use with almost any belt that takes a belt buckle, or pick one of our fine hand worked leather belts on the next page.

This new Big Bomber II Jacket is more stylish than ever and now redesigned with the long ride in mind. It is crafted of super durable but incredibly comfortable Australian leather and stitched with Kevlar reinforced threads that are lifetime guaranteed. No matter where the open roads take you, this jacket will always be on the accelerator. It features a very warm, but removable brushed fleece liner for the winter months as well as four vents that can each be opened to three different settings so you are always in control of your temperature. Available in Bad Ass Black, and Heritage Brown as well as sizes M, L, XL, 2XL, and 3XL.


Here is A Geeky Mac blog entry:
How it is all growing together, or why I can’t breathe.

 I had to buy a $30 cable today so my new $1500 TV can display the desktop on my mac-pro. I rode the bus all the way uptown to the shiny little nerd filled giant microwave looking cube that is the apple store. I purchased my precious cable and left feeling like Gollum holding the ring, especially since it was priced like it was priceless. I rode the freezing bus all the way back home and hooked it up. It looks great. Ah success, thank you sweet technology. HDM to DVI is awesome. I have 50 inches of diagonal digital bliss. But, wait. Where is my sound? Why isn’t it working?
I grab my Blackberry, purchased just 2 weeks ago. I use the Internet access on it to look up the phone # of the Apple store where I purchased my awesome $30 cable. Bam, number found! Go Technology! I use my equally recently acquired blue tooth hands free device to call that way I have my precious hands free to do other important things like twiddle my thumbs, dabble with my pen tool, and furiously double flick off the air around me as I fully absorb what is coming.  The call goes through and I talk to robots and voice recognition software for 10 minutes. Technology rules, robots will help me. Technologies job is done and I’m speaking to a fellow human. Hurray! I tell them of my woes and they say. “Oh, this happens a lot, I guess the sales rep that was helping you forgot to tell you that that cable you have will just, get you picture, no sound. Sorry about that, but Good news, we have the additional cable you need. It’s only $30”.
AHHHHHHHH!!!!!! All this so I can take my spinning pinwheel of death from a 1/8th of an inch to a full 2 inches while I attempt to watch Youtube videos of people doing their best jackass impressions. I feel like I’ve been kicked in the balls.

Here is some SEO copy from an online auction:

I have done tons of these over the last 6 years.
The goods:
Factory original black JDM Toyota MR2 MR-2 sr22 2.0 Turbo 90-95 model hood cowl
This Japanese Domestic Market turbo hood came off of a meticulously owned and cared for 93 model that was imported to the US by a collector back in 96. The original JDM badge is still present and it is in fantastic condition. The car was recently converted and many of the factory JDM jewels are being auctioned off to pay for race parts and tires. This hood is compatible for all Turbo 1990 -1995 US models and will also mount directly up to any normally aspirated model 1990 -1995 for a more radical look.
Condition: Simply fantastic! It still bears the factory original black paint with factory clear coat and the badge looks like new.


Here is an excerpt from my motorcycle-riding journal:

***It was repurposed and branded for Honda Motorcycles, Nelson & Briggs touring bags, Corbin seats, and Metzler tires. This was done with SEO content in mind for use on a start-up “gearhead” web forum several years ago.***

Where can Pig Trail take you?

Today, after a lifetime of being around a family that loves motorcycling, I discovered a new part of what motorcycles are really about. I have been riding motorbikes for three years but it has all been city commuting or Texas Hill Country group rides until a few weeks ago when I got a wild itch that I just had to scratch. Even if no one else was willing to go with me, I was willing to go this one alone.

A place I had heard of called Pig Trail was whispering my name in every gust of wind that crossed my ears and escaping the hustle and bustle of the city for a few days sounded like heaven too so I packed my bag and cleaned my helmet. My “new-to-me” shiny 2003 CBR954RR and I decided to set off for some of the most treacherous roads in the Eastern part of the US.

Pig Trail is a series of breathtaking roads that run through the Ozark Mountains in Arkansas, and they are both incredibly fun and superbly dangerous. Reducing radius hairpin turns, blind corners, logging trucks, steep inclines, and water running over the roads are only a few of the perils that await any rider of the famed Pig Trail. Others include 100 foot plus cliffs that kiss the edge of the roadways, abundant wildlife, and the ability to go as far as 70 miles without seeing even a single building. These roads are so remote that I had to bring gasoline octane booster with me in my tank bag because there are several long stretches where nothing but 87 octane is available. My CBR required the fuel octane level to be bumped up so that it could operate properly. I had just purchased my new CBR two weeks before and this was not exactly the best place for a young rider to acclimate to a 135 horsepower machine. I had taken some careful precautions prior to departing for this adventure such buying some touring nice weatherproof touring bags and being sure my suspension was setup perfectly. It had been set for my weight, including my new Nelson Briggs gear, and the intense level of riding ahead. I had also acquiring a new Corbin seat that was guaranteed to be much more comfortable than the stock seat Honda had made standard issue. A new set of Metzler tires was crucial too. A wipe out here could be catastrophic and toasted rubber is the easiest way to insure a wreck. My bike had been made ready but my mind was not fully prepared for what was ahead. The freshly prepped machine and I passed under tall tree canopies that obscured my view in all directions, over jagged mountains, and into the unforgiving virgin country.

The obstacles came quickly and the learning curve was steeper than the mountains themselves but I settled into the saddle fairly quickly. Before long the lonely stretches became incredibly soothing and they gave my head time to wander while the constant purring of the motor kept my mind turning as fast as my fresh tires. An incredible peace of mind settled over me while all alone on these cambered roads. It was a world where physics ruled with an iron fist; a complicated but perfect test environment for a machine such as my brilliantly engineered motorcycle. I felt like Kevin Schwantz and time was measured only in disappearing dashed white lines as I leaned into corner after corner and accelerated out of each turn.

I couldn’t help but think about how it must have taken thousands of men and many, many years to carve these intricate trails through this ruthless terrain that had now become my own personal amusement park. I thought about what this land would be like by horseback, covered wagon, or even on foot, and in my head I quietly thanked these men I would never meet as I rolled on the throttle. The sun slowly slid down the sky behind me as I snaked my way through the mountains and back towards Texas. My leathers were sweaty and I was exhausted, but the cold spots in the valleys cooled me and each turn of my tireless motor carried me a little close to home. I knew as I crossed the border back into Texas and hit the flat boring highways that I would never forget those hundreds of miles and those peaceful hours.

I still love riding with friends and going on group rides; after all, the comradery of the sport is one of the best benefits of being a two-wheeled fanatic, but I now also know that there is something truly magical about being completely alone with your machine on a beautiful road in the middle of nowhere. Motorcycles are about our own mechanical triumphs, our human ability to constantly want more and to continually push it just a little farther. But, they are also about control and precision, careful engineering, and a respect for the constant laws of physics that govern our world. They are about riding that careful line between self-exploration and self-preservation. They are not just for seeing our world; they are about better understanding all of it and rising to its challenges.


This is a strange little online blurb for a restaurant
by the name of Keys Grille in Chicago.

It was done for the “daily deal” website Groupon & is intentionally weird to their request.

You walk in, only to be greeted by a surprisingly warm hug from an aging mechanical bull that you haven’t seen or even talked to since sophomore year of college. What comes rushing over you next is a broken dam of emotions and the waterworks that have been building for years over those cruel college pranks can not be held back any longer.
Cry out loud my wounded angel! Those emotional scars that you still try to cover at the beach, and the resulting irrational fears of abandonment can both heal here at Keys Grille. You can hide your tears in an icy margarita only to proceed to drink them back in for future years of pain because unlike most grills we have an extra “e” at the end and it is that extra “e” that makes the word “grille” end just like the word “home” which coincidentally is another place you haven’t been since sophomore year. Don’t go home, go to Keys Grille for some authentic Americana eats that are sure to leave your taste buds humming the star spangled banner.


Page #1: I don’t really know what this is, but I wrote it!

Scuff-scuff-scuff…. He sanded. Scuff-scuff-scuff he continued, yielding another unnoticeable change in the chunk of wood in his hand. “Yeah, this will be nice” he thought to himself of the knife handle he was handcrafting. The small packet of sand paper he had found in the cabin was a truly glorious find considering boredom was his second biggest foe only to hunger. Finding food here was too much to ask anyway. Food will come now
Just as taught, he had carefully chosen the piece of wood for its grain, texture, strength and natural beauty. What a gorgeous piece of pine he had found near the top of the mountains on his way to this quite dusty hunting lodge. His father had always taken the time with him to make everything an opportunity for learning and he was a patient and nurturing teacher whose lessons were absorbed quickly. As a result the son had become an excellent student, especially given a love of the material. He also carried a naturally curious mind that was quick to tempt him into both brilliance and physical pain. The few who knew them both could easily see the father in the son in many ways. It was from him he had learned to be a man of tools and inherited an almost inexplicable ability to fix or repair almost anything by the current age of 25.
However, they were not completely alike. This inquisitive nature had turned in recent years from innocent and academic interests to those of a more adult nature. There was another half, a mother whose mannerisms and nature were just as evident and far less pure. The genetic gods that had sewn him together, from the fabric of the two, with-in the womb had blessed him with his fathers’ brilliance and cursed him with his mothers’ greed and selfishness. Despite losing his mothers’ presence in his life at the tender age of three, when a drunk driver killed her, the genetic predispositions had never gone away. They had hovered just below the surface for years and it was just a matter of time until the person he had been born as decided to profit from the person he had become.
Some would be quick to blame her for him being here now, but each person's decisions are their own and their path, the result of their choices. He had chosen to steal, no matter what the reasons, and it was him now waiting in a small hidden hunting lodge nestled high up in the mountains hoping not to be discovered and passing time by quietly sanding. Scuff-scuff-scuff…scuff-scuff-scuff.
As his hands grew sore he realized it was time for a break. He pulled out his pouch of tobacco and his small dispenser of rolling papers. He hand-rolled another cigarette and thought to himself, for what felt like the millionth time, this could be the last one of these for 10-25 years. After carefully peering out all sides of the cabin he inched through the front door and onto the small wooden deck cautiously. The familiar wooden creaking of the front porch rocking chair, bowing to his weight, comforted him somehow. It always felt good to feel comfortable enough, alone enough, to not worry about making that noise. A sigh of relief…nothing again. Of course there is nothing he thought fighting off the paranoia. Nobody knows. I’m safe here. The events played through his head again, in some form of supersonic fast forward he had grown accustomed to, as he rapidly checked every decision made along the way for the same millionth time. He had all six long months of the ordeal somehow conveniently edited down to the length of a cigarette in his head. Every cigarette. The worst part though was not the past, nor was it the unknown future. Nobody knows the future, that part was easy to deal with. The worst part was the unknown present. Not really knowing how big the manhunt was. How many people out there are looking for me? How big is the story? There is a story right? How many pieces of government paper or property contain my name? Was I on the news today? Every cigarette. His deeds had cost him simplest joy and the last one he had had remaining.
None of these questions could be answered now. The price of obtaining such answers could cost him all he had to show for getting this far. He had thought that as his plans neared completion the desired ending would seem closer by each taken step, but the last several days had only felt like the finish line was creeping out of sight, as if it Was literally moving further down the road and out of his reach. If this was a race he was growing weary, not only mentally and emotionally, but also physically.
The sun was sliding down the sky and disappearing into the pines that adorned the valley below. For the first time since his arrival there 3 days earlier he thought to himself that even If they did know where he was, they would never try to make the climb by night and he felt strangely at ease for the first time in a long time. Leaning back into the chair, he let his eyelids slink closed. He was just going to rest his eyes from the glare of the setting sun, just for a moment. Just one short moment, or maybe one long moment, or perhaps even two short moments. The gentle breeze playfully tussled his dirty hair as sleep overtook him.

I hope you enjoyed it all…

If you like pictures with your words then my advertising portfolio might be just the thing for you. It also features more landing page web copy, as well as traditional print and poster long form copy, plus some radio and web video scripts I have worked on. Just click back and then click on the advertising portfolio link inside the TV to get to it. Cheers. | © 2008