Stats and Sex

At the beginning of NaBloPoMo, I got myself registered with their site, and my stats went up quite a bit, from around 60 or 70 unique visitors a day to around 100 unique visitors a day. After a couple weeks, I guess the shine wore off NaBloPoMo, and the numbers went down some, hovering around the mid-70s pretty reliably.

Except for Saturday. Saturday is the day when the fewest people read blogs.

Just recently, they've shot back up again. Coincidentally, this happened the same day that google crawled my site, which they have not done in a while. At least not since I posted pictures of my tits.

If you want your stats to rise, I highly suggest posting a picture called "braless."

It's what people, people from all over the world, are searching for. Or it's the photo title that most closely matches what people are looking for. It's the one they find most often, at any rate.

I tried doing a google image search, and I can tell you that my boobs do not appear in the top 10, though Barbra Streisand's mashed beauties did. I got bored before I found myself. But then, all I have to do is look down, so there's not much incentive.

Eric and I went out for a drink last Wednesday after the art show, and I was telling him about this new, um, rise in interest.

"Does it feel weird?" he asked.

"Nah," I said. "Well, maybe a little. I mean if you're going to put your tits on the internet, you can't get your knickers in a twist about people looking at them."

"No."

"But I never imagined that people would really *want* to look at them. I mean, people are probably jerking off over those photos."

"Yes." He laughed.

"But it's just me in a tshirt. It's no big deal. So it seems strange."

I feel dissociated from the images themselves. They're me, of course, but it was really me using my body to prove a point, so that's the context in which I think of them. But I have to admit, the thought of random people out there maybe getting turned on by them kinds of rebounds and turns me on, and then I feel odd about both those facts at the same time. I mean, who doesn't like feeling desirable? But there's something a little shame-faced, a little embarrassed, about admitting it.

It's an odd shift from putting my sex writing out there. That stuff, I put that out on purpose, and turning people on is one of the main thrusts of writing it. The boob pictures, though I wasn't so naive to think that people wouldn't like looking at them, weren't there for that.

I think it's that I feel I have less control over the photos. And while they're a part of me, they're not me in the same way that my writing is.

I'm not sure why I feel like my writing is more me than a part of my body, but there you go.