I awoke on the morning of May 23 and did my ritual ablutions and fired up the computer and checked the stats for this blog.
5 hits.
No. Wrong category. More coffee!
11 hits.
Something suspicious was going on. I consider it a good day when I get one hit.
So I checked back to where they were coming from. Colby Cosh.
He'd put me in his blogroll a couple of weeks ago, and I'd had three or four hits off it.
Then the deluge. All of 30 glorious hits.
The proximate cause, as near as I can figure, was Colby Cosh deciding to call attention to one of my pieces.
You stupid sheeple! You'll click through on anything that Colby Cosh recommends!
Which is why I must pay him reciprocal attention. If you've somehow stumbled in here from some other search, leave immediately, and go to Colby Cosh.
Yes, his picture in the header is, ah, somewhat goofy.
Nevertheless he's a terrific writer who will get you interested in things you had no idea you could be interested about.
Also I got a hit from Moxie. Moxie!.
gnotalex and Moxie
sitting in a tree
kayeiiessseyeengee!
Cough. She's a glittering LA photographer who has a very stylish blog and I am hopelessly in love with her.
She hasn't returned.
I fear that Moxie has fallen under the malign spell of Ken Layne or Instapundit. Or Tim Blair, that sawed-off Aussie.
My only hope is to outsmart them, outwrite them, and swoop down on Moxie and sweep her to safety and wedded bliss.
Or failing that, she might throw me a pity fuck.