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7 february 2001 Submit to lid. Earn fame. Lots of fame! Fortune, well... |
my mom would be so proud Some people are finding me whether I want them to or not. For those of you who aren't hard-core webbly types, I need to explain a bit. When you're a webmaster, you can get these things called referrer logs . They are a nifty way of letting you know how people found your site. Did they click through a link on someone else's site? Did they look you up on a search engine? If so, what keywords did they enter to have your site pop up in the search results? I went a-poking around my referrer logs last week. The answer to my last question is, almost without exception, distressing. What is even more bothersome is that I brought this upon myself. So that's what I get for drawing parallels between the Icelandic Phallological Museum and the phenomenon that was Darva Conger's "marriage". And what was I thinking, writing for two days about my adventures on the Jerry Springer Show . I may as well just put a big sign in the cyber-yard: WELCOME RIFF-RAFF. FREE BEER. COME ON IN. Sheesh, I'm a dope. So, how do some of these fine folks end up in the Lioness Den? Let's looky at the log, shall we?
Judging from these thoughtful, discriminating entries, something tells me that I am precisely not what these people are looking for. I sometimes wonder how long it takes them to surf away once they realize that Burt Reynolds' centerfold is, sadly, not a part of lionessden.com. No one here is naked. Darva doesn't live here. I don't have a weimereiner. And to the lady who dropped by when she typed "no run hosiery", I apologize. But really, it does make a fabulous coffee filter. Absolutely not, I say to you who submitted the word "manly" as a substitute for "sweet". You have got to be kidding. I can't even type it without getting a serious case of the giggles. Next, please. |