I have no idea why
Tonight, I have added my blog to approxiamately 137 blog and RSS directories. Why am I doing this? Is this necessary? Is this what bloggin turns you into? For a while, I was fine. I got over the Google Adwords crap. I quit habitually checking my stats to see if anyone was reading. Show how, I managed to quit the perpetual begging for comments from my readers. It even seemed as if I was no longer compelled to write. Now - bam - out of no where, I have been bitten by the blogging bug. It's insane. Much like quiting chewing tabacco, after two months the desire - okay, who am I kidding - the absolute need to blog invaded my thoughts. The compulsion has returned. Much like when I found myself sneaking into the familiar convenience store to purchase yet another can of snuff, here I am strolling through the seemingly endless directories in a feeble attempt to build traffic. Oh, the evil mistress. Yes, I am a confessed addict of traffic. She owns me. I will do anything to please her. Shamelessly, I wil beg, congole, shout, plead, make feeble jokes - anything, I mean anything to see that hit counter spin. I don't care if it comes from Blog Explosion surfers that barely even slow down to read a word or Google Pervs (thanks for the term Kristy) or directory spiders. Anything to see the counter move. Move, babhy move. That's all I can think about. I even dream of a spinning counter. I live for the day that I hit five digits. Then what's next - six digits of course. More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, Rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball |
Comments on "I have no idea why"
I hope that snuff comment was a metaphor. You never really did snuff, did you? Please say "no."
Love those Google Pervs! (Specifically the Red-necked North American Google Pervs).
Unfortunately, I have to own up. Yes, I had done battle with the evil weed - tobacco - for many years. I have gone as long as two years without it. I'm currently clean, but the nasty monkey does tap me on the shoulder from time-to-time to say,
"Come on, it's just one little dip. Just buy one can. No big deal. Trust me, it'll be fine."
Some days, the voice is much louder and less polite. Take it from me, tobbaco is a b*&$^.