Hello, Oslo

-
So I have been keeping tabs on my readers.  Yes. You.

I have been holding you accountable.

I can check every now and again where my readers are coming from.  Basically, I like to see what countries I'm reppin'.  It helps me to know whether my UK counterparts are really missing Lloyd and I.

Congratulations, Brits- in the words of Simon Cowell: "You're moving through to the next round."

But sometimes I get quite a shock when I get random stats showing random countries where I don't know anyone.  Well.  Unless one of you is sneaking weekends away to Indonesia.  Anyone??  Anyone??  Bueller??

And then I have a fun mind-game going on where I get to wonder who in Indonesia, Canada or Germany stumbled upon my blog.  I will wonder what keyword they typed into their google or gogle' or googlefreudan toolbar that led them to me.  Was it badonkadonk?

Perhaps.

Keywords are a funny thing.  I certainly stumble onto strangers blogs all the time when searching for cleaning tips or when I search for things like "how to get motivated to get off my hind and work-out" and stuff like that.

And someone very smart will have all the answers.  Home remedies for the common cold, removing rabbit's blood from carpet, keeping flowers fresh....

But I don't have any answers here, folks.  I wish I did.  So what, oh what is drawing these foreigners to my blog??  Que??  Qua??

The most interesting was a visitor from Korea last week.  (I certainly hope it was from somewhere in South Korea or I might soon be flagged as a threat to national security.)  I picture dudes in the C.I.A standing around and wondering what "Badonkadonk" could really mean.  Code?



Not so much.. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"Dear Bobby"

-
Image
"Dear Bobby, I love you. I always look forward to when my husband leaves for work, and you sneak into bed with me. Sometimes, you will wake me up, but usually, you just lie there next to me waiting for my eyes to open." Bobby. You are a cat. But you are the cat of all cats. Unliked some others whose names I will not mention.... you like being a cat. You are my original Obi Kenobi... But you don't like your name and insist I call you "Bobby" or "Bob". You are my predator. You can catch anything- including a rabbit almost twice your size. I remember the time you brought a baby possum into our home. I had just awakened and sleepily headed to use the bathroom when, peering from inside the toilet, was a little possum begging to be released. You cheeky bastard, Bobby. That poor possum. I scolded you and you just turned the other whisker, as if to say "look lady... I am a cat, that's how I do...." The other cats beg for forgiveness when
Read More

The Good Dancer: A Dating Story

-
Image
I once dated a really good dancer. That wasn't his only strength. In truth, he was one of thee absolute best dudes I ever made out with.  He was super funny, smart and we clicked right away. But what struck me as odd was that, for the first time before and since, his good dancing skills didn't turn me off.  (For some reason, a man with too much swagger on the floor has always confused and frightened me a little.)  Oh, and I also don't like when they are so involved in their dancing that they forget you are on the floor with them.  Oh, and when they A. crowd you or B. use you as a prop.  Oh, and when they sing along to songs by female artists.  If you know all the lyrics to "I'm a Slave for You", that's both impressive and embarrassing. (I really did have strange deal-breakers with men...) So here was the first guy who I enjoyed dancing with that was actually a really good dancer.  He didn't crowd.  He didn't sweat profusely.  He didn't sin
Read More

Pancakes and Eggs

-
Image
I have been thinking of pancakes and eggs. I don't know why. But the craving hasn't subsided, though I cannot say it has intensified... it just remains... in appetite purgatory. I have craved this pairing a few days now. And I am not a pancakes kind of gal, so I am a bit befuddled by it creeping into my psyche, every day, throughout the day. I wouldn't call it torture or taunting, I would call it unfinished business. And today I couldn't help but wonder whether it was the pancakes and eggs I wanted, or whether what I wanted was the idea of a long, leisurely breakfast with someone. And as I sit here, at midnight, unable to sleep before an early a.m. flight, I know that there is something more meaningful worth writing about, and yet, these pancakes and eggs won't leave me alone... Because a long, indulgent, carbohydrate-rich breakfast is usually shared by people who have time to sit and enjoy one another's company.
Read More