Monday, August 15, 2011

200 nations have read this blog!

The blog’s notoriously unreliable “stats” page says today there is reason to celebrate: someone from the 200th different nation stopped by to check out my blog.
Two hundred seems large enough to host a decent Olympics so I should be pleased.
But stats, the biggest time suck of a life that’s chock full of them, can’t be trusted so I won’t be getting drunk today.
Well, I might get drunk today, but news from stats won’t be the inspiration.
Here’s the problem: Right now, 7:30 a.m., stats is showing there are five page views for my home blog.
But when I click into the audience section, it shows there are 11 readers in the U.S., two in France, one in Brazil (hello Bob McCarthy!).
Even a math moron like me can see that number adds up to 14.
So which section of stats is telling the truth?
Just last week I awoke to read that 94 people from Slovenia stormed the joint and had one hell of a party.
They read more than a dozen distinct posts from across the three years I’ve been blogging.
I saw that and rushed out to get a haircut and shop for a new shirt then spent the whole rest of the day reading about Slovenia.
I wanted to make a nice impression in case some friendly Slovenians called to say they wanted to declare me king.
(Fact: there is no Fastvenia to give timely balance to Slovenia).
Clearly, someone started reading the blog, began sharing it with friends and soon Slovenia came to a grinding halt as the entire nation began immersing itself in my blog -- and that’s assuming Slovenia is populated by just 94 folks.
Then Slovenia started acting like so many of the girls I used to date. We went out one time, seemed to have fun -- and then they just vanished.
I half expect to see Slovenia driving by with a dude in a nicer car.
So what happened? Did stats err? Did it miscalculate? Did Slovenia wake up groggy and ashamed at having spent the night with me?
That’s not without precedent either.
It seems like stats is once again messin’ with Sasquatch.
It’s incredibly frustrating for someone who’s trying to build a readership.
But until someone suggests a more trustworthy option, I’m stuck with stats.
Here are the 199th through 200th nations who’ve registered at least one reader over the past six months.
191. Netherland Antilles
192. Macau
193. Lebanon
194. Macedonia
195. Qatar
196. Uruguay
197. Nepal
198. Sudan
199. Botswana
Clues to how at least some of this disparate group found its way to my blog can be found in the “traffic sources” section of stats.
It’s clear by some of the search terms that a niche group of deviants troll the internet for Amish porn and to their consternation, I’m sure, wind up here.
Search terms include “amish lingerie,” “amish threesomes,” and “amish boobs.”
It has me thinking I ought to inaugurate a “Search Term of the Day” feature.
Pity mingles with hilarity when I realize my blog’s responsible for this confusion.
So who secures the milestone no. 100? Envelope please . . .
It’s Trinidad!
And it’s Tobago!
It’s Trinidad and Tobago, one of the few nations on earth I can call “Sonny.”
The Republic of Trinidad and Tobago is a multi-island nation off the coast of Venezuela formed in 1976.
“Together We Aspire, Together We Achieve” is the nation’s charming motto.
In a divisive era in America when Republicans and Democrats can’t get together on anything, here is a Caribbean nation where two major islands figure they can do better as one than they could if they fended for themselves.
It sounds perfectly harmonious.
Stats tallies just one lone reader, but the optimist in me likes to think the entire 1.3 million carnival mix of Africans, Indians, Creoles, Portuguese, Venezuelans, Spaniards, Caribs, et al, are right now in the big capital library in San Fernando crowded around one warm computer screen.
Well, welcome to the nation of readers who’ve found their way to a blog whose name pays subtle tribute to how long it’ll be before economic considerations force me to give up things like electricity and store-bought butter.
Stick around a while and you’ll see there’s nothing truly Amish about my blog.
And, alas, the only real boob you’ll find here is me.

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