Go, comet, go!
You know how it goes. You take the kids to Disney World, or some circus, to any kind of entertainment that’s supposed to contain worlds of wonders – and chances are that when they go to sleep that night, one of them, just dreamily says:
“That clown was a bit scary.”
Same with these columns – all columnists, I suppose. We bring our untamed egos, our unruly thoughts and throwaway pens (or vice versa) and build our little kingdoms piece by angry/funny/boring/foul piece. And we have no idea really what the readers – if we have them – make of all the things we write.
That is, we had no clue of all of that, before the advent of Statcount and other nerd-fed toys. Now, we can see how many visits our sites get, how many visitors are repeat offenders, where they all come from and how long they spend doing Gods know what with our precious children.
Which is nice, sort of.
When I started writing all this nonsense, the guy who built this blog for me told me that most visitors that come to any blog come through one particular link. (He also told me a story about a guy who got rich by starting with just one photograph of a bloody cat – with the text Cats who look like Hitler or some such. And no, I’m not giving you that link here: I’m trying my damndest to write my own cat-filled diary on this blog and I won’t encourage people to go look at some other cat, thank you very much.)
Anyway, one of my earlier columns was about some murdered cricket coach. In that piece I also told a silly story about a dinosaur – and I put up a link with an even sillier dinosaur cartoon. And God love all your cute, little minds – and the Devil take mine but of course most of my visitors came to me through that bloody cartoon…!
You know, I’m starting to get a lot of satisfaction out of the fact that that comet got all of the damn critters.
Still, all things fair or some other Shakespeare curse, so here’s the top three of links my readers went for, like a white rabbit, or Alice, or a toad in a hole. So, there:
(And my excuses to the few of you who actually came here to read something. I can assure you that normal services will be resumed as soon as I get over the humiliation of being beat by an extra from the bloody Flintstones. Till then, I’ll be offically miffed, or huffy, or in a serious snit.)
(Sulk, sulk, sulk…)
(Alright, God save us all, stop pestering me about that stupid cat! Here is that bloody link. Now leave me in peace, before I’m forced to do a Corbain. Goodbye!)
(Sulk! Sulk! Sulk!)
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