Don't worry, I'm not a professional

I have had this blog since 2005.  Which means I am A) old, B) possibly narcissistic, and C) apparently really fond of constructing sentences where I label things by letter.  I periodically go through phases when I really enjoy writing and/or watching movies and this has been a fun place to do that.  It's also been a way to be anonymously snarky about people who are wealthier and more successful than I am.  So, go me.

Then, this happened:

Someone dropped a Toblerone on my stats page.

Yeah.  It's weird, right?  This totally epic increase of... what posting was that exactly?  Oh yeah, this one.   Now, normally I think I'm pretty funny but, contrary to the filmmakers expectations, a movie review of Atlas Shrugged doesn't generate that many hits. Nope.  However, this does:

not actually porn. really.

Yup.  This picture created a storm of traffic because apparently 2,724 people Googled the phrase "kung fu panda porn."   That's right, animated panda porn.  And don't think this was limited to one particular region of the world, oh no.  From Morocco to Brazil, Indonesia to Poland, everybody wants them some hot CGI plushie action.

Now, I know very well that no one is actually reading my blog.  There's  no time for that even if they A) were fluent in English and B) cared.  Nope, I'm just generating 200 hits a week with a picture of a tiger and a snake AND because I tagged something with the phrase "hipster clothing."   So, I am very much aware that I am not that cool, that I don't have a multi-national fan base, and that there is no book deal in the works.

This is not a photo of me... yet.

However, it's becoming tricky to look at these numbers and actually write.  It's sort of like the difference between getting dressed to run to the Wal-Mart at 11pm on a Tuesday night and getting dressed to be filmed in a reality show about people who visit Wal-Mart at 11pm on a Tuesday night.  HUGE difference there, even if no one would ever watch a reality show about people who visit Wal-Mart at 11pm on a Tuesday night.  (Okay, well, maybe I would.  But only if they play hide-and-seek.)  It's gotten so bad that I'm starting to not want to go to the movies because then I would feel guilty for not blogging it, or worse, blogging badly. 

I know, that IS an embarrassing panty line

I know I am being ridiculous. I know that as long as I occasionally run a spell check on this mess I won't end up the object of mass derision and scorn.  I know that this blog is still mine, still silly, and still small.  However knowing stuff doesn't ever seem to keep me from being slightly crazy.  So, for the next little while, if I end up sounding stilted or contrived or self-conscious, please have the courtesy to look away -- just as you would do if you saw me at Wal-Mart at 11pm on a Tuesday night.