I am proud of my blog. I am glad people read it. I find the stats fascinating. I understand it is public. There is stuff I have regretted posting and have removed, not sentences, but groups of actual long blogs. (Yeah. You WISH you had a chance to read those, don't you?) But there are people who are just sick, and maybe they just surf blogs like I do, but I don't think this is random. This is someone who knows what they are doing, and this person has their own pitiful and poignant reason for doing it, and what I feel is pity. Pity and sadness for this person's tragic outlook on life. There have been porno links. No, you can't link to them, but they are in my referring sites. I guess so if someone is looking at that particular porno site, then they can link here and see an occasional naughty word and get some kind of thrill. Or maybe they are just trying to make their expertise more well known in a way that is so subtle it is fucking weird. And then an occasional referring site that is medically curious but obscure. It must be sad when someone spends time, especially when there are dishes to wash and friends to talk to and jobs to look for, to concoct this elaborate scheme and then the recipient totally does not get it and is only mildly puzzled since the creator of this circuitously planned and executed technological foible is worthy of only a brief passing thought.
I am supervising the life of my ninety two year old dad and the job fills my life with so much guilt and worry and sadness and I have so little time to think of anything I would enjoy thinking about like a better way to end book two, that I so heartily wish the enactor of this pitiful little scheme is getting enough of a thrill out of it to make it worth their time and effort. Good luck with that.