Amongst the clutter and turmoil, I found time to find time to find out what this was all about. About time I discovered why things were this way. Identifying was just a start, but actually recognizing, now there was my true accomplishment. I was thinking it’d be good to get to know each other, that is the cause of my inquiry. Impetus for us to get chum-da-lum. Chum-da-lum, the operative phrase for "too close, too soon." At some point you have met someone who you felt you "clicked with," who "got you," who you felt "just right" around. But how often does that happen in business? I wouldn’t think too often, but in this industry, it happens too much. Sure, many initial conversations are a grind, with the parties at odds, or at least one participant at odds, which basically renders the whole affair "at odds." But there are an abundance of initial chats where you leave feeling invigorated and excited at the new relationship that has been fostered, completely certain that this is going everywhere you want it to go. Big cash, long term friendship, all that. And I continue to get fooled. I mean, where else can you get someone’s office phone, cell phone, home phone, email, instant messenger, wife’s name, dog’s favorite treat, place of birth, and best converting offers all upon first contact? Tell me! Where? Ow! Damn it, I just spilled milky coffee in my eye. At least it was milky, had it not been milky it would sting even worse. Better still, my left hand was grasping my water, which with one wrist jerk covered my face, which obviously includes the coffeed eye. Out in the world, I wouldn’t tell you how to get to the closest McDonald’s, but at the office, you ask me for my Social Security # and secret password to drain my 401k and I’ll start rattling it off. That’s where we are. Many of my "best friends" may leave my network for another if they get an extra dime on the polka-dotted platinum garter belt campaign, but I’ll still tell them to call me at 3am if they need a suppression file or feel lonely. Hell, if you’re my client you can call me at 3am just to tell people you did it and I wouldn’t even care. I’m probably up pulling links and spilling coffee in my eye anyway. And to think, I spanned years of two relationships where I’d turn my cell off at night so that my rest would not be hindered. But that was different. I used to get sick a lot back then. A single night of hampered slumber could throw my throat into a state of cataclysmic carnage. But I’m healthy now, and I won’t be turning off my phone on my next lady or my clients. Not even on you, Vill, and you’re a punk ass CRACKERWOOD! That clamorous gesture must have awoken the vampire bats, because only they could sizzle the cilia in my ears with such screeching dystopia.
The thing is, those of us who do enjoy being everyone’s friend and being without a single enemy are quite open to the state of initial chum-da-lum, especially if there’s money involved. So I’ll keep lumming up the land as long as people are cool, and hopefully people will keep lumming me, because it’s a good thing. Who wants to cold call somebody at 7am and have the voice on the other end be wrought with cynicism and bitterness? I’m sitting here looking around, and I have more lists of things to do than I have things to do, and I have a Noah’s Ark of things to do. The real issue with trying to "relax" or "take some time off" in the affiliate space is that if I click out of word and go back to outlook, there will inevitably be something new for me to do. And it actually is 3am. The vampy bats have hung themselves on the trophies, and their fangs are glistening.
You’ll definitely love this one. I do. My lover, my hobby, my life. All my newfound chum-da-lums are feeling this; at least I hope they are. There’s no limit on zero. It is what it is. "I’ve got half a mind…" "You’ve got half a mind to do what?" "Nothing. I’ve just got ‘half a mind,’ that’s all." "Aha. I see. Half a mind to do as you please, and half a mind to do with as you don’t please." "Perhaps. More like half a mind to do everything, and half a mind to do nothing." "Good thing we’ve been such good friends for the last seven minutes or else I might find you a strange bird." "And good thing I found this strange bird or else I might consider my only confidant." "I see."
So where is my army of chum-da-lums? Get over here and let’s get comfy. I want to learn more about your fam, send your dog his most revered treat to gnaw on at his next birthday, and get a hold of your Social Security number just to say I have it. And now, some chummy time with my skull-cracked, red sea eyes. The monitor has gone dark and I am flailing with the vamps. V, Happy Birthday. I feel you with me at the most peculiar of times. All my lummies, Happy Thanksgiving. H and "Bring Dpayne," great to meet you. Viller, take care of Reez. Those who require motivation, get at it. My email address is at the bottom of the page, stop being so [batty!] coo-coo klux clandestine.
Bryan May
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