Sir Vay Lance

In my last post I mentioned something I found a little funny in my web stats. Well, the very next day I got a visit from somebody else I had never noticed before:

If you read my previous post and the comments on it with an eye toward specific words and phrases, do you think it possible that they may have flagged it for a little visit somehow? I can see a few that make it a possibility, if a remote one. I've never noticed that particular visitor before and they don't appear anywhere else in my recent web stats. Am I being paranoid? I must be. It's just a coincidence, I'm sure.

Yer Neurotic Pal,

R A N T W I C K

PS - Just in case it is not a coincidence, please refrain from using words in the comments that may spark a refreshed interest... I am being stupid, especially knowing that I am a squeaky clean citizen, but humour me.

PPS - If you happen to be the visitor in question and you just like reading my silly stuff, let me know! If so, I'm treating you like the poor Doctor at a party who's being asked to "look at this weird thing on my neck"!

Blog Stats Reveal My Normal Visitor

Like any blogging OCD freak, I sometimes look at my web stats to see how unpopular I am. I am quite unpopular. That's OK, though, because those who do keep coming back are generally my kind of people.

Those who don't keep coming back often land here because they were doing google image searches, and I saw something interesting today.

It's 12:25 AM. Do you know where your norms are?

I think Chris Koos, the mayor of Normal, may have an interloper on his hands, a late night image searcher straying from the path of true normalcy. Rooting out this person in a town with 50K+ people and Illinois State University within its borders may prove difficult.

Of course, the good people of Normal are very likely sick and tired of people like me being all juvenile like this. Remember though, that I'm writing stuff for the Internet. Juvenile is, sadly, the order of the day out here. I'm just trying to fit in; you know, like, act normal.

Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K