The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Well, thank you helper monkeys. I’m no statistician (can’t even spell the word without help) but I have poured over this report and come to a few conclusions. I have listed them at the end, where all good conclusions belong.
Here’s an excerpt:
The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 33,000 times in 2014. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 12 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.
I was more interesting (or made better tag choices and was thus easier to stumble upon) last year. And the year before that. Or somehow these old posts, as the monkeys suggest, have staying power. Only the monkeys know for sure.
I have some very loyal readers/commenters. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Jazzy needs a new purpose in her life (besides consuming truckloads of red wine) so that she can make a come back.
Today, for some reason that even the monkeys can’t fathom, is my best day ever for follows.
Here’s to a happy blog crazy 2015. We’re almost there. Just have to get these monkeys off my back.
Go to your Stats page and check your top 3-5 posts. Why do you think they’ve been successful? Find the connection between them, and write about it.
The stats page gives me a headache so I rarely open it up, but today I’ll make an exception for the sake of the Daily Prompt. My most popular post of all time happened on February 27th of this year, the momentous day on which almost 600 people popped by to view whatever nonsense I was going on about on that particular day, even though it was nothing new or different or even particularly clever. A normal day here appears to be about 60 views. The stats page doesn’t tell us what percentage of these views are purely accidental, but I suspect it’s at least half.
I’m no statistician but that has never stopped me from making wild conjectures on any blog related topic. And let’s face it, all topics are fair game when it comes to the blogging world. What I’m pretty sure happened on February 27th is the WordPress Statometer got hit by lightning, resulting in a power surge and scrambled stats for this blog for all time. My other theory, in case that one isn’t right, has to do with tags. People search for the damnedest things. Apply all the recommended tags even if they don’t make any sense in relation to whatever you’ve written, and see what happens. Or you could just mention Johnny Depp. That one is pure magic.
My top 3-5 posts and pages include my home page/archives, the oxymoron poem (which I wrote from memory and had nothing at all to do with creating), my May Post for Peace (begging the question – what’s wrong with the rest of the months?) a couple of book and movie reviews, and a post in which I mentioned astrology, horoscope and tarot cards.
The magic connection here is brain fog. I am convinced that all of my followers suffer from it. Except you of course. You and I are perfectly normal. The stats prove that. I haven’t yet figured out exactly how they do that, but they don’t lie. That’s all we really need to know.
The final mystery today that even the stats people might have difficulty solving is why the media gallery thought this post required a picture of some random bald guy wearing a curtain. Surely more interesting things have occurred in the month of February. Or maybe not. I am now being prompted to apply a cartomancy tag to this post, even though I have only a vague notion of what that might be, and the spell checker is telling me I haven’t spelled it correctly.
My point is…. in blogging, the pursuit of connectivity can make you cry. I strongly advise against it. Just mention Johnny Depp at every possible opportunity, and your stats will eventually go right off the charts.
I am so pumped that my blog could power six Film Festivals. Whatever that might mean. Thank you, thank you, thank you to all the people (however misguided), who visited this year. And to everyone who clicked the follow button and for all your delightful comments. You’ve encouraged me to keep on going. And to all the googlers who got here by accident, try to be a little more careful when you search for random stuff or you’ll just end up back here again wondering why. It’s because my tags are all over the place. Sorry. But thanks for dropping by anyway.
Would you ever participate in a food eating contest? What kind? How much do you think you could eat?
Well this is one of the weirdest prompts ever. The only reason I’m answering it at all is because it will be my 198th answer and I would like to see “You’ve written 198 answers” under the “Your stats” heading. Then, for all you math impaired people out there, what that means is that I will have two more answers to go to reach the magic number of 200 answers written. One hundred was a mind-blowing accomplishment, so I expect double that to be doubly so. I’ve always suspected that I could blather away ad nauseam on any number of topics, and I think 200 posts is certainly proof positive that I was right about that, if nothing else.
And here’s another ‘stat’. Approximately one out of every 7 questions has actually been worth answering. That means I have made 28.1429 posts which have been vaguely interesting and worth reading since my relationship with Plinky began. You could go back and read them all and figure out which ones they are if you want. I can’t seem to drum up the motivation to do it.
So, let’s discuss this hypothetical contest. What kind, they want to know. Are there really different categories of competitive food eating? Like speed eating, the eating disorder challenge, the cheesecake tournament, the dog eat dog match of the century? And how much do I think I could eat? Oh, I don’t know. My weight in frozen yogurt maybe? I guess I could say any bizarre amount of anything since it’s supposed to be what I ‘think’ and therefore there can be no wrong answers.
But let’s be serious for a moment. The terms and conditions under which I would participate in a food eating contest are as follows:
1. I have not had any solid food for a week and I am starving. To death. To the point where dead bugs are starting to look tasty.
2. The prize for winning is a bazillion dollars and a dream home in the Galapagos.
3. The prize for participating is a million dollars and a beach front villa in Lemery Batangas.
4. The food is not hot dogs.
5. The event is not televised and my real identity is never revealed.
So, I guess what THAT means is – the answer is no.
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