When I first started blogging, I figured it would just be an outlet for me to let some stuff out. Personal stuff that I am not really comfortable talking about with anyone who knows me. Whatever. But I wanted to have fun too, and so there were the TopFifteen lists and what not. I have no problem with that.
I mean, my blog: my mind and whatever is on it.
(Not my brain and whatever is on it, that would be spiderwebs.)
I did not want, and still do not want this to be a place for me to just complain about stuff.
(Oh, wait... gonna go tweet this song) (okay, I'm back)
And yet, here I am.
So I have fussed a little about the advertisement twitter accounts. Capitalism at its best - no - not at its best... at its prolificatoniest. There is probably a word for what I am trying to say, but I don't know it.
I have gotten these e-mails - you have too, you bloggers out there:
"We stumbled on your blog 'Fascist Furries of South Side Chicago' while looking for stuff on hotels in Paraguay and awarded your site first prize! Our site gets so many hits per second that they are trying to invent a new word for it, and we will link your site on ours, if you link our site on yours because you are tres chic and have a bajillian hit."
No. I have -->
|12 Oct 2009 to 28 Apr 2010: 513 visits shown above|
Count is updated every 24 hours, but map updates are deliberately different, as explained in Notes and FAQ.
Total since 12 Oct 2009: 545. Previous 24hrs: 5.
I mean thank you all who stop by... most of whom probably do it by accident, then turn and run before you catch something (you know who you are) but really. I think 5/day is actually kinda a busy day for my blog.
I May be jaded, or gun-shy, because I think that most people are just, well not malicious by nature, just not nessesarily...
Oh, wait, it is me. I am paranoid and think that everyone out there has mal-intent. That explains a lot.
(did spell check break or is 'malintent' not a word?)
So... If you read all that, and here now looking for the joke in all this, let me not be one to dissapoint:
Two blonds walk into a bar. The brunette ducked.