Email Lament

Inspired by this poem, which was partially inspired by this poem. And the inspiration continues with whatever I decide to do here.

I'd rather complain about the hoards of emails
From friends
Stories and thoughts and things
But instead, there are these:

"I can do just about anything you can imagine,
And it's all very affordable.
May I send you a
suggestion
quote
package
proposal
price
cost
list
?"

And so I ask every not-probably-real
web designer
web developer
seo person
app maker
guru rockstar freelancer
in my inbox, right now:

Did you actually look at this fucking thing?

I fill out the text boxes where the CMS had 'em
and supplement with the appropriate tags:
there's summaries, and tags, and I actually write stuff.
I keep my software up to date (or pay the people that do)
And I make sure my sitestuff is best presented
(no broken links here! I hope)
even tho there is some jank and inelegant code injections
but at least it validates probably.

I do not
stuff every semi-or-not-relevant term into my tag clouds
or
pad out my paragraphs
or
employ shady "expert tips" that are really tricks
that got us where we are today

that has you
finding my details on Google and then
in my inbox
wasting my fucking time
because I won't play that game.

Does it look like I need your "help"?

I have this thing called integrity
That these bots and grifters forget about.
And they forget that not everyone
is selling something.

I don't give a shit about Google ranks or
being on their first page or
enabling the bings yahoos aols of the world;
I do the honest bare minimum
So when you stumble across me
it will be relevant.
Or type in "Raintree Ruckus" in that bar up there
And it will be coherent.
Or people hear of me, and talk about me, and link back to me
Because they like me (usually).

Unlike you,
I'm not in this for the money.

And I don't need you.
No one does, but me specifically
Doesn't need you.
I can do
what you do
my damn self.