But on to today's story...
I recently installed a new and working counter at home during yesterday's transport strike. (Don't you just hate those militant groups for their sense of timing? They could have set the strike today so that we can have a four day weekend. Haaay, life is never perfect) I intended to load the page early today so I can watch it tick one by one by one, but work got in the way. Sheesh. But before work disturbed my real work of online activities of ym, friendster, blogging and porn browsing, I managed to post on pareng friendster's bulletin board a desperate plea for readers. I spammed every egroup I belong to of my delusional case of writing ability. And after some work was done, I checked the supposedly working counter and it seems that I have succeeded and fooled people into really reading this blog. To be honest, when I noticed the blog counter turn 27, I could feel my pupils dilate, perspiration forming under my armpits, nipples hardened (these nipples were not mine but those on the baby bottles I put inside the freezer a while ago. I really don't know why but i really felt them hardened at this time, some kind of extra-sensory-perception-thingy with the frigidaire maybe), my ears fill with blood due to the realizations that 1.) Spamming unfortunately works 2.) My blog is actually generating internet traffic! Imagine that! 27 unique visitors in the span of 8 hours. I was also cheerless at that time. I don't want to be responsible for bringing the internet to a crawl by generating such amount of traffic. Imagine that, 27 people in 8 hours. Whew, the whole idea still eludes me.
But on to worse news... I have been told that the most-powerful-one- woman-censor-committee- ever-known-to-the- mild-mannered-programmer has been informed of the existence of this site. My mudra is now reading this blog so that from now on I have to watch what I type, what I say. I'm really sorry for the 27 captivated audience who will never enjoy cheeky comments and randy phrases I am still to write. I was too desperate for readers that I also asked mudra to take a peek not remembering the authority she holds over the mild-mannered-first-born offspring. Oh well...
I know that I should make little sense somehow that is also somehow related to the topic of mothers and censorship. Let see... Let me try my stuff at making sense...
What if! What if the mtrcb be composed of the mothers of the directors who create those storyless, sex-action-packed, hiding behind the principle of freedom of the arts, would that work? Maybe not since those mothers failed at hiding the idea fromm their offsprings that sex sells. What a really weak argument don't you think? Sheesh, I suck at trying to make sense. May be next time...
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