How much do your site stats mean to you? What about your traffic? What is more important: quality of readership or quantity of readership? Would you be willing to lose traffic to satisfy your conscience? Does it matter who comes to your blog? Or don’t you care, as long as someone comes?
I like the people that frequent this blog. I feel as though I’m becoming close to those that comment, email, send me link love. There aren’t a lot of people that swing by here, but the quality is superb. The people that come here are funny and smart and just worth the time it takes to return visits to their place. And there are more than a couple that I feel I can honestly, from my heart, call my friend. People I have never seen before, some to whom I’ve never spoken, mean something to me. I look forward to seeing some familiar names in my comments and seeing new posts go up in my favorite haunts. I’m a little on the rough side, but I’m loyal, honest and sincere and I don’t think those are bad things. But I made a promise to myself a long time ago. I promised that I would never sacrifice my core values to please someone else. Bullshit is bullshit and I’ll call it when I see it. It’s not because I’m an evil bitch or that I’m cold and heartless. It’s because I firmly believe that if I see wrong and don’t address it then I’m contributing to the wrong. This has, unfortunately, cost me some relationships. C’est la vie.
But if I’m wrong and my friend tells me I’m wrong, well, shit, I’m going to take that into serious consideration. I’m going to examine my actions or words. I’m going to be concerned that I offended someone when I didn’t mean it. And then I’m going to correct myself. I’m going to care about what’s going on with my friend. After my evaluation my friend is either right or wrong. If right, well, I guess I’ll have to fess up and do what I can to fix our relationship. Sometimes I make a concerted effort to be hurtful, but never at the expense of my friends. And if someone else comes along and says “Hey, you did wrong” I’m really going to wonder. Of course, I have to care about that person first. And if not that person then someone else in that person’s same situation. Right?
In my life I don’t have time for people that think disparaging an entire group of people is normal. I don’t care if they’re black, gay, Jewish, Muslim or South American. I don’t have time for people who think it’s funny to take a tasteless, thoughtless remark and expand on it- or allow someone else to expand on it while they laugh and laugh. Ha-fucking-ha. I don’t have time for people who have decided that one class of people is so unimportant that they deserve derision and public scorn. That’s not me. That’s not what I believe. And by shaking my head and remaining quiet about it I am endorsing that kind of behavior. I can’t do that. Ever. I made that promise to myself when my daughter was born. Never shut up and let the assholes take the stage.
I don’t care how much traffic I get. I don’t “network” or “promote” my blog. I don’t visit as many people as possible in one short day to leave insipid little remarks that hold no personality and could be cut and pasted from anywhere. I like having the visitors I have because they have class, intelligence, and really are genuinely funny. I don’t think the most important thing about my blogging is getting as many comments as possible- with little depth or sincerity. I want to meet people like most of the people that I’ve met.
So, when I come across a situation where someone I had a little respect for shows such a lack of class and compassion I become lost. What to do? Call bullshit, or ignore it. I call bullshit. Because there’s no way I’m ignoring it. I don’t have it in me. Sorry. That’s the way it is. I don’t have time for bullshit of that caliber. I don’t want to be part of it. I don’t want to roll in it. I don’t want to smell it. I most certainly don’t want to look at it. So, the “x” it is. And I’m glad for it. Because I pulled back that curtain and the goddamned wizard was damned fucking ugly.
Update:
Well, I found out what a “fag hag” is. A straight chick that hangs out with gay men. That’s ME! Why didn’t my guys ever tell me this? Of course, I haven’t been to the bar since Lil’lady was born, so I haven’t really had time to hang. And I moved back to Hickville. But still… Oh, that’s right. Because they consider me to be their friend. And I was too cute to be a hag. Though Ali certainly wasn’t cute enough to wear that red dress. I still say he should’ve went with the blue.
Days of Our Web
Updated below
How much do your site stats mean to you? What about your traffic? What is more important: quality of readership or quantity of readership? Would you be willing to lose traffic to satisfy your conscience? Does it matter who comes to your blog? Or don’t you care, as long as someone comes?
I like the people that frequent this blog. I feel as though I’m becoming close to those that comment, email, send me link love. There aren’t a lot of people that swing by here, but the quality is superb. The people that come here are funny and smart and just worth the time it takes to return visits to their place. And there are more than a couple that I feel I can honestly, from my heart, call my friend. People I have never seen before, some to whom I’ve never spoken, mean something to me. I look forward to seeing some familiar names in my comments and seeing new posts go up in my favorite haunts. I’m a little on the rough side, but I’m loyal, honest and sincere and I don’t think those are bad things. But I made a promise to myself a long time ago. I promised that I would never sacrifice my core values to please someone else. Bullshit is bullshit and I’ll call it when I see it. It’s not because I’m an evil bitch or that I’m cold and heartless. It’s because I firmly believe that if I see wrong and don’t address it then I’m contributing to the wrong. This has, unfortunately, cost me some relationships. C’est la vie.
But if I’m wrong and my friend tells me I’m wrong, well, shit, I’m going to take that into serious consideration. I’m going to examine my actions or words. I’m going to be concerned that I offended someone when I didn’t mean it. And then I’m going to correct myself. I’m going to care about what’s going on with my friend. After my evaluation my friend is either right or wrong. If right, well, I guess I’ll have to fess up and do what I can to fix our relationship. Sometimes I make a concerted effort to be hurtful, but never at the expense of my friends. And if someone else comes along and says “Hey, you did wrong” I’m really going to wonder. Of course, I have to care about that person first. And if not that person then someone else in that person’s same situation. Right?
In my life I don’t have time for people that think disparaging an entire group of people is normal. I don’t care if they’re black, gay, Jewish, Muslim or South American. I don’t have time for people who think it’s funny to take a tasteless, thoughtless remark and expand on it- or allow someone else to expand on it while they laugh and laugh. Ha-fucking-ha. I don’t have time for people who have decided that one class of people is so unimportant that they deserve derision and public scorn. That’s not me. That’s not what I believe. And by shaking my head and remaining quiet about it I am endorsing that kind of behavior. I can’t do that. Ever. I made that promise to myself when my daughter was born. Never shut up and let the assholes take the stage.
I don’t care how much traffic I get. I don’t “network” or “promote” my blog. I don’t visit as many people as possible in one short day to leave insipid little remarks that hold no personality and could be cut and pasted from anywhere. I like having the visitors I have because they have class, intelligence, and really are genuinely funny. I don’t think the most important thing about my blogging is getting as many comments as possible- with little depth or sincerity. I want to meet people like most of the people that I’ve met.
So, when I come across a situation where someone I had a little respect for shows such a lack of class and compassion I become lost. What to do? Call bullshit, or ignore it. I call bullshit. Because there’s no way I’m ignoring it. I don’t have it in me. Sorry. That’s the way it is. I don’t have time for bullshit of that caliber. I don’t want to be part of it. I don’t want to roll in it. I don’t want to smell it. I most certainly don’t want to look at it. So, the “x” it is. And I’m glad for it. Because I pulled back that curtain and the goddamned wizard was damned fucking ugly.
Update:
Well, I found out what a “fag hag” is. A straight chick that hangs out with gay men. That’s ME! Why didn’t my guys ever tell me this? Of course, I haven’t been to the bar since Lil’lady was born, so I haven’t really had time to hang. And I moved back to Hickville. But still… Oh, that’s right. Because they consider me to be their friend. And I was too cute to be a hag. Though Ali certainly wasn’t cute enough to wear that red dress. I still say he should’ve went with the blue.
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