“You know what’s hard?” he asks.
Mike and I look up from what we’re doing expecting deep insight …
“To stop eating chocolate ice cream.”
Right, thank you for that insightful little nugget.
Plea from a nube Twitterer
I did it.
I signed up for Twitter … again, actually. I think I have some other alias flitting around in the Twitosphere, but I couldn’t remember the password.
But back to my point: I’m on Twitter. Dun, dun, duuuuun. I feel like I need some fanfare going on in the background. Like a gong. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone follow you around with a gong, which they would bang whenever you needed to add a little emphasis to whatever you just said? I think that might come in handy …
Psssttt … whoever you app-making people are. That idea’s worth millions … I’d like a cut though.
So yes, being on Twitter. My question for all of you Twittering powerhouses (Yes, I’m talking to you, Fish, Mike, etc.) is this:
How much is too much? At what point are you just launching needless comments into Cyber Space, effectively clogging it up for the rest of the more restrained Tweeters? Are we talking one every 30 minutes? Every hour? Once a day?
Anyone have any wisdom?