20 July 2005

Hey sailor, wanna have a good time?

I installed a site counter the other day and sat back to watch the hits role in. Well, after four days, I had accumulated exactly two hits; one of which was from a confused elderly Japanese lady looking for a recipe for sea cucumber and radish jelly; the other was from a fundamentalist Christian internet pornography watchdog.

While I did get some great links from the porno watchdog, clearly, drastic action was required.

I decided to become a link whore.

This, however, presented a problem as I have spread of late into a goodly bulk. Where could I find fish net stockings in XXX-Lard sizes? In desperation, I dispatched minions to Gloucester to pinch a pair of seine nets. While I waited for their return I posted several entries with a myriad of key phrases such as “ginormous boobies”, “power sander eroticism”, “Mr. Blobby” and “Furby Modification”. I then comment spammed the entire blogosphere and sat back to let the magical search engine spiders do their work.

Alas, after a week, googling those phrases and even “spastic rabid ferret-like fellatio”, Barry Hutton still tops the list, and I am not even mentioned. The very nerve!

For those of you not in the know, Barry is one of Harry’s less savory schizophrenetic manifestations. The voices in my head had him over as a fourth for Whist, and the bastard got drunk, violated my ceramic frog collection, left an upper decker and ran over the cat when he left.

I don’t much care for Barry. None of Harry’s other personalities has ever been so rude as to run over the cat.

No matter, my minions have returned with the nets. Now, where did I put my stiletto heeled pumps?


And that's the way I likes it.