Monday, August 22, 2005
Goodnight, Ellicott City! We Love You!
It would be quite out of character for me to turn away freely offered attention, especially to my blog. The longer I keep at this, the more it becomes integral to my self-esteem. The more I write and the more people who read, the painful reality of my existence as a Failed Writer fades, inch by inch, into the background. The lure of the fantasy of internet raconteur and bon vivant and other French words that don't mean "total loser" is a powerful one. Plus, more time blogging means less time being tempted by the devil fire-water, which is always the beginning of a story that ends with me being pulled naked from a frat party and in violation of my parole.
I'm a little bit terrified that what I'm going to say will alienate somebody, an incredibly loyal reader who shall remain anonymous, mostly because I have no idea who they/he/she are/is/were/am. No, not "am". Sorry. The other ones, though.
What I am about to bring up I bring up not in judgment or complaint, but simply out of curiosity.
I love my Sitemeter. For those who internet stalk me, it allows me to internet stalk you right back, which is fun. In the last few weeks, Sitemeter has added (for your counter-stalking convenience) the Location of the users on the "Who's On" menu, which also includes the originating Domain Name and Visit Length.
Again, this isn't to say I find it creepy or off-putting, I just want to know.
There's someone who keeps logging on from Ellicott City, Maryland who stays on my blog for hours and hours and hours, racking up dozens of page-views per day.
I recognize that the Location information is imperfect. Sitemeter says I'm coming from Irvine, which is funny because that would be hilariously out of my housing budget.
So maybe you're not really from Ellicott City. But man, I'd sure like to know what it is you're looking for here. All I can really offer are some cheap word-subsitution jokes and penis-based humor, so if it's anything more than that, I assume you're bitterly disappointed by now.
But I'm not saying I don't want you here, no. And I don't want you to be embarrassed that I brought this up publicly, but I just have to know. I mean, you spend more time on my blog than I do. Since it isn't possible for anyone to be as enamored with me as I am, there has to be another reason besides Pops-worship that leads one to wallow in the Bucket for the larger part of days on end.
I do appreciate the attention, though. If I had any money to give out prizes for Most Time Logged, you'd win. By a lot. It's safer that I don't have a prize budget because I'm sure I'd get you something cheap like a free movie coupon (for one!) and blow the rest on hair extensions and Botox treatments for myself. Body dysmorphic disorder is one expensive hobby.
If you don't want to discuss it in comments, that's OK. I have e-mail (firstname.lastname@example.org). Come on out of the closet, little fella. Nobody's going to hurt you.
That "closet" comment wasn't to imply that you're gay. If I am your secret big gay crush, that's cool too. Like I said, no judgments.
OK, a little judgment for picking this blog to endlessly ponder. It's not that I question your taste, but this is the internet. There is so much porn out there to get to still...
This post on the Narcissus Scale: 10.0 (two in a row!)