thanks for tumblr, a platform i have grown to love over the 6 years that i’ve been here.
i understand this is your project and i’ll understand if you sell it. but i wanted to point out, you left money on the table when it came to me.
i’d have paid a small fee to have a “no-ads” dashboard. you could have added all the ads you wanted ($$) and i’d have given you money ($$) to have them not show up for me. money in your pocket both ways.
i also would have paid a small fee for premium features ($$). all that time wasted on trying to get me to not use ‘missing e’ could have been put to better use asking me to pay a small fee ($$) for a better user experience within tumblr itself.
there are several other ways you missed making some solid dough on a tumblr fan such as myself, but i think the point is made.
you left money on the table with me. i hope you don’t do that with yahoo, or whomever you may sell to.
tumblr is a neat place. you did something really great in creating this software. however, we did something great in being the community that used it. you made tumblr worth something, and we’ve made it worth more.
good luck and thanks again.
Everything was going great until you showed up. You see me across the crowded room, make your way over, and start talking at me. And you don’t stop.
You are a Democrat, an outspoken atheist, and a foodie. You like to say “Science!” in a weird, self-congratulatory way. You wear jeans during the day, and fancy jeans at night. You listen to music featuring wispy lady vocals and electronic bloop-bloops.
You really like coffee, except for Starbucks, which is the worst. No wait—Coke is the worst! Unless it’s Mexican Coke, in which case it’s the best.
Pixar. Kitty cats. Uniqlo. Bourbon. Steel-cut oats. Comic books. Obama. Fancy burgers.
You listen to the same five podcasts and read the same seven blogs as all your pals. You stay up late on Twitter making hashtagged jokes about the event that everyone has decided will be the event about which everyone jokes today. You love to send withering @ messages to people like Rush Limbaugh—of course, those notes are not meant for their ostensible recipients, but for your friends, who will chuckle and retweet your savage wit.
You are boring. So, so boring.
Don’t take it too hard. We’re all boring. At best, we’re recovering bores. Each day offers a hundred ways for us to bore the crap out of the folks with whom we live, work, and drink. And on the internet, you’re able to bore thousands of people at once.