Tag Archives: email

Guest posts and obscure advertisements

Every once in a while I’ll get an email from some random Internet person asking if they might be able to write up a guest post on this blog. The first time it happened, I was pretty excited. All of these thoughts flew through my head, like, it’s happening, I’m starting to attract attention here, I can’t believe it.

That first email was from some lady in Australia. She had read this nonsense piece I had written about setting up a series of trampolines, spaced out along a route, that I could use as a bouncy form of alternative transportation. “Great post!” she complimented me. “Great compliment!” I said out loud to my computer.

A few friendly words were all it took to capture my attention. I read on. She worked for a company called Bounce Inc. From what very limited research I’ve done, mostly looking at the video from the web site, I gathered that it’s some sort of gym/amusement park hybrid. My solicitor described it as a, “massive indoor trampoline universe,” a whole giant area of interconnected trampolines.

And then I sat back in my chair and thought, huh, that’s kind of … well, it’s some bizarre trampoline business in Australia that I’ll probably never get to visit, let alone bounce around in, and some employee is asking me if they’d like to collaborate via my blog.

Huh. My sense of, “This is happening!” deflated somewhat, but I replied back, “What were you thinking? Did you want me to write something up?” Our correspondence dissolved when she informed me that she’d be writing up whatever it was that she’d be writing up, an advertisement basically, and she’d like to use my very obscure corner of the Internet to use as a wall on which to post up a cheesy flyer.

How dare she? I got all indignant and wrote some crazy email back explaining the total lack of connection between my blog and her bouncy castle business, and that was the last that I heard from her. But seriously, what kind reach did she think she’d get by having something written up here? It would be like me going into my local corner deli and asking if they might help pass out literature about Elon Musk’s Hyperlooop.

That was the first, and while my inbox isn’t inundated with random business proposals – it isn’t inundated with any email at all, really – I do get from time to time marketing companies from India hoping to use my blog as an SEO platform, whatever that is. I’ve done a little bit of research on what it would mean exactly, but basically it’s just about turning any Internet space into a garbage link generator. And then I’d have to write up blog posts like, “43 best 80s movies characters,” with number one being it’s own page, it’s own bullshit advertisements and garbage links. And then you’d read a sentence and look at some picture that I hijacked from Google images and you’d be told to click “next” to see number two, with another page of random Internet stuff you’ll never really click on, not on purpose, not really.

Just yesterday I got an email from a Mike Thomas. His message was something like, “Wow! Check out this video on man-caves in storage sheds! You should let me write up an original post about man caves for your web site. Or you can just post the video. Due to Google’s rules, we can’t pay you anything. But don’t worry, we’ll only send you original, creative material! Send me an email and I’ll get in touch with you to see where we can go from here!”

Wow, thanks Mike! You’d do that for me, provide me with all of that great content? Hooray! I can’t believe he’d insult me by assuming that I’d want money. For all of that original, creative content, I should be paying him. Man-caves in storage sheds, I have no idea what that’s all about, but I’m sure it’s going to be just the thing to ratchet my writing up to the next level.

What ever happened to good old-fashioned online scammers? I’m really missing the days when I’d get letters from long lost royal relatives that relocated to Cameroon generations ago, trying to get in touch with me because they need my help in taking back the billion dollar family inheritance. I got some email a while ago from a Chinese company telling me that another Chinese company had recently tried to set up a business named Strictly Autobiographical. What a coincidence! But I needn’t worry, all I had to do was pay them a fee, and they’d register my domain name in China, preventing other Strictly Autobiographicals from popping up overseas.

I’m telling you, it’s happening for me. My brand name is becoming international. Everybody wants a piece of this, even the Chinese. It’s just really nice to know I have random Internet people looking out for me, trying to help me out here, giving me free content and offering cheap protection. Keep those emails coming!

Be an adult, man

I can’t take it anymore. I want out. No more of this conventional life. No more going to work and paying bills and flicking my cell phone on and off, even though nothing’s happening, no calls, tons of emails, way too many emails actually, but all junk email, TV shows that I don’t watch anymore sending me an update about last night’s episode, and tonight’s episode, and tomorrow’s, shoe manufacturers letting me know every single day about new shoes on sale, even though I only buy like one pair of shoes a year, even though when I bought them online, and it showed me a little check box, it was already checked, and it said, “Please! Keep me informed about daily deals and specials! Yes!” I made sure it was definitely unchecked, but despite my unchecking, the emails started trickling in, those crafty little algorithms refusing to take no for an answer, maybe we’ll just send him an email a day anyway, maybe he’ll buy more shoes, come on man, how about just buying one shoe? Of course I won’t buy any more shoes, but I’ll rarely go through the process of unsubscribing to those emails, you always have to open the email to find the unsubscribe button, also, it’s never a simple unsubscribing, it’s always, you will now be redirected to our web site where, amongst other nonsense, you’ll be able to hunt and dig for option to opt out of these emails, and even on that unsubscribe page, there’s still an option to stay subscribed, and of course the default, “No! I don’t know how I wound up on this page! Please, keep me updated on daily deals and specials! Yes!” is checked, another little trick.

No way, I’m totally over it, tired of getting that tiny dopamine kick every time I’m just sitting here trying to write, “ding!” email, one time out of every two hundred emails it’ll be something worth reading, but most likely it’s one of five hundred political action groups that somehow got their hands on my contact info, all of them peddling the same progressive agenda, each one of them asking for twenty five dollars, thirty five dollars, come on, just click here and make it an automatically reoccurring donation, make a difference, man, come on, man, fight the system, bro, you won’t even have to think about it. It’s like, we’ll take your money, you’ll get used to living with slightly less money, you won’t even notice it, and then we’ll start asking you for more, and then Obama’s going to be done with his second term and somebody’s going to take the reigns of that behemoth online donation machine. Who’s going to be asking for fifteen dollars every day two years from now, Biden? Clinton? Somebody else? Come on, just ten dollars. Thanks for the ten dollars. Hey, I have something else to ask you. Can I have ten more dollars? I know you just gave me ten, but, can you make it twenty? Every time you give it’s just an escalating cycle, asking for more and more almost immediately after.

Thanks, but no thanks. The only online shopping I’m going to be doing from now on is for hobo bindles. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hobo bindle in real life. What’s the point? Why not a backpack? I guess if you’re really out on your ass, you might not have a backpack readily available, maybe just a long stick, an oversized neckerchief. What do you put inside? Is it really easier to carry everything if it’s balancing on your shoulder at the end of that long stick? Maybe if I were to show up on the streets, on the back of some slow moving cross-country freight train with all of my stuff warm and dry in a backpack, whatever, in some messenger bag, maybe I’d be seen as a phony by the larger hobo community, because there’s always a natural amount of sympathy for any hobo, however reluctant we are to give it, nobody likes to see anybody out there, in the cold, hungry, dirty, down on their luck. But if that lifestyle is a choice? Then sorry pal, no soup for you, backpack or bindle, pick one, because nobody’s inclined to give you any sympathy at all. Why don’t you get back to work? How about charging up that cell phone and checking those emails? Paying for that cell phone bill on that cell phone bill-paying app? Because what’s wrong with you man? What’s your deal? You know how many people would kill to sit here and have people sell them stuff on a smart phone? Do you realize what an entitled whiny little brat you sound like? Get yourself together man, be a man, man, be an adult, dude.