Stop twiddling and get a life!

I launched the Hellish Handbasket Blog in January of 2012 as I was headed into one of my many recurring dark nights of my soul: my interminable pursuit of a terminal degree. I wanted a place to lighten my load by dumping my emotional ballast, as it were. And I must say, this blog has served me well as a listening post, absorbing my chronic whining and transmitting my frothy yearnings into the blogosphere.

And lo, the blogosphere has responded. Over time, I have built a modest following consisting of a handful of friends and relatives and a few strangers from Latvia and China who cruise through for a minute or two, probably looking for a hole in the cyber dike. Well, that's Google's problem, not mine. In any case, I was getting a few dozens of page views (including maybe a few bonafide readers) per month and, considering this is an anonymous blog, I thought I was doing okay. And then I innocently posted a post about twiddling and everything changed.

When I was young, the word twiddling referred to an activity one did with one's thumbs. I hesitate to Google the term now, for fear of luring drooling hackers and sneaky viruses to my cyber door, but I'm pretty sure twiddling no longer means what it used to mean. If you look at all my posts from the last three years as bars in a vertical column chart, every post is as flat as lettuce in a vegetable garden except that one post, which is the One World Trade Center Tower of my blog. There is only one thing that could attract that kind of attention: sex.

Now, you could say I'm trying to capitalize on that one post's popularity by attempting to duplicate its energetic verve with this post. You could say that. But you would be wrong. Because I am not interested in attracting wackjobs and knuckleheads seeking to read about twiddling anything but the traditional thumbs. Whoa, I can see I'm going to get in trouble here. Honestly, I shudder to imagine all the things one can do with thumbs that I have never considered. But I'm not going there here, not today.

I just want to say, good grief, stop twiddling, whatever the hell that is, and get a life! I'm happy being an obscure anonymous blogger. I don't sell ad space on my site, so all your cavorting through my twiddling post is not netting me anything but a totally lopsided out of whack stats page! My other posts are infinitesimal specks compared to that one damn post. What the hell, you guys?

I suspect there is a mountain of spam aimed directly at my tiny anonymous blog being barely held back by a small army of Google minions somewhere in a data warehouse in Cupertino. I hope the cyber dike holds. Don't let go, cyber minions.

Meanwhile, I will continue blogging about the inconsequential minutiae of my days as I drift in and out of earning, writing, and networking. Boring stuff, I know, compared to sex. Maybe it would help to think of it as an invitation to use your imagination. Okay, I've said my part. Do with it what you will. I'm off to do some twiddling of my own. At last! The Walking Dead is in reruns.