Needy, needy blogger

It's like hungry hungry hippo, except far less entertaining, with 100% less hippos, and leaves you pitying me.

It's something I've been thinking alot about; that is, how many of my hits are actual real live readers, and how many are charming Russian bots harvesting the web for their own nefarious means.

I wonder this often because I get about 1 comment for every 5 to 20 posts I make. This is a terrible, terrible ratio. But I grudge you not! After all, you're busy, you have things to do, people to meet, and for some of you quite a bit of Vi@gr@ to peddle over mass emailings.

So, here's your chance to satisfy my curiousty and possibly get me to post more! See the little link to the right that says, FOLLOW THIS BLOG'?

Of course you do, you're bright and by all accounts an upstanding citizen.

Please click it.

You might have to make some bogus kinda profile. That's ok. I don't want to know any personal information about you. I just want to know if you are a real live reader.

It's not that I have anything particularly against intelligent web-crawling software looking to index the web for some underhanded and greasy haired web marketer. It's just they don't quite get me like you guys do.

Comments

greg said…

Yours is my 2nd favourite blogger-blog. Just, you know, so you know. xoxo

11:05 AM

Niteowl said…

Hey, thanks greg.

I"M NUMBER TWO!! I"M NUMBER TWO!! I"M NUMBER TWO!!

8:04 PM

Anonymous said…

One Word: Feedburner.

Well, it's actually two, but they have it strung together like those Germans do, those krauts, those vaterland people do.

Also...get clicky.

5:04 PM

Learn A New Thing...

Man, you really do learn a new thing everyday. There have been a few shocking realizations I've had over the past month or so: -bizaare is spelled bizarre (how bizaare) -scythe is pronounced "sithe", not the phonetic way. Which is the way I've been pronouncing it in my head for my whole life. My entire youth spent reading Advanced Thresher Sci-Fi and Buckwheat Fantasy novels, for naught! -George Eliot was a woman, real name Mary Ann Evans. -Terry Gilliam is American. -Robocop is a Criterion Film. I shit you not . -Uhm, oh damn, just after I post this, I find that, this movie is a Criterion film as well . Maybe I don't know what being a Criterion film really entails.. Alright all (three) readers of my blog, post and lemme know some earth shattering facts you've learned recently.

Cyberpunk 2077

Like a late 90's webring, replete with link back and hints at an actual relationship with other authors, this is a piece I'd like to say in.. rebuttal is too harsh a term, in reply, to my very long standing internet friend, zompist, where he posts his various gripes with that great sprawling hot mess, Cyberpunk 2077. Now I say hot mess because that's what the internet at large thinks of it, but me, playing on the worringly over-powered computers on GeForce Now, have experienced nearly no problems. Or at least not problems that bother me enough. Keep in mind I'm the Homer Simpson when it comes to critiquing alot of things. I just like, alot of things. Cheap date, as it were. It might be my hundreds of hours in Bethesda titles and regularly having to look up console commands to debug yet another janked out quest, but it takes a rather large bug to befuddle and begrudge me. Like if a bug repoed my car, maybe, or told me how much weight I had actually put on during ...

People You Meet on Transit #5

Thanks to Jay Morrison for the photo. Transit Drivers Bus drivers are an archetype in North American culture. In the imagination they are generous in girth, have staunch opinions about unions and eat 300% the recommended intake of red meat. The odd one adheres to a strict conspiracy theory, which they manage to work into the most innocuous conversations. At least, that's what's been ingrained in our collective subconscious along with "Han shot first" and "Dukakis, 1988". But transit drivers, like everyone else, are individuals. Unique, utterly one of a kind from the 5 billion others who roam this spinning mass of molten iron with the cool, carbon life-form infested shell. Sure, you see the reticent ones, who have a 100 yard stare and coolly watch passengers get mild hypothermia while they take their union-sanctioned 15 minute break inside their cozy bus. But there are other, more colourful characters as well. In my city, there is one that calls out every st...

Periodically.org

Search This Blog