I have never made any bones about the fact that I am one of the least technologically savvy men on the planet. Well, at least in the developed world, anyway. I'm not the guy to ask about computer servers, memory, POP connections, or any of that stuff. I didn't set up the pc in our home. I never set the clocks on the VCR's (when we used such things). My wife's laptop is light-years more advanced than mine, which might have something to do with the twelve hundred dollar disparity in price, but I digress. I know people that talk about computers in terms that make my head spin after three sentences. I am in awe of the things that other people know that I don't know... which probably has a lot to do with me deeply ingrained educational inferiority complex.
Anyway, my problem isn't one of programming... today, my problem is about Site-meter. I got my weekly report from those fine folks who monitor my blog and tell me how many people are visiting and all sorts of things... and you know what? according to them, I had no visitors last week.
Now, I am am not so egotistical to think that my blog gets lots of traffic. It doesn't. I realize that my life is neither exciting nor glamorous... or even interesting to most people. It isn't. I realize that many of my more savvy blogging pals read my blog via Google reader or bloglines or subscription or other means (or just don't read anymore), but I can't accept that NO ONE read, or even visited my blog last week.
Is sitemeter just f***ing with me?
In other news, I got a new gun on Friday. There, that ought to excite the search engines. A brand new pistol, right out of the box, and she's all mine. Well, that's not really true. She belongs to Uncle Sam... but my uncle, being a swell fellow, has given her into my care.
It was with some sadness that I turned in my old pistol (it was only four years old, but VERY well-used), but this new gun is of a larger caliber (bigger bullets make bigger holes, you see), and has a few features that that old one didn't have. She's a beauty (pronounced bewdy, if you are in Australia), she is. Have a look:
I won't bother with nomenclature or anything like that, but I will say this: I put three hundred fifty six rounds through it on Friday morning, and she shoots well. Very well.
We went to church as per usual yesterday, and Mrs Gunfighter had the luxury of sitting in the pew without soccergirl or me, as sg was acolyte, and I was the assisting minister. What made this day particularly fun was that we had a supply pastor (guest pastor for those that don't habla the Lutheran) who is originally from Ghana. Pastor Edward was pretty cool, if a little long-winded. He gave a great sermon, made so much better because of his African accent. A self-deprecating man, he made us laugh several times during the service, but the funniest thing that happened took place during Communion.
Now, I know that some of my readers are adherents to the Roman Church, and therefore usually have wafers at communion, and some of my readers are of the LDS church, still others are Baptists, Jewish, non-denominational Christians, and other assorted groups and or non-believing heathens, heck, I even have readers that are Republicans (you know that I love all of you equally, though, right?, especially the heathens). Well, in our church, during communion we use bread, and as communion is served, the Pastor breaks off a piece of bread, about the size of a quarter, or a half-dollar (remember those?) hands it to the parishioner and says: "The body of Christ, given for you" and them moves to the next person. Well, yesterday, Pastor Edward was tearing huge, and I mean huge, pieces of bread. So large that some of the communicants had to hurriedly tear the pieces into smaller pieces and bolt them down by the time I followed with the wine, saying: "The blood of Christ, shed for you" while trying not to laugh all the while. After doing this for a while, Pastor Edward looked at me and said, are there many more people?( we were a little more than halfway done) and I said to him, "almost half are left, you might want to go smaller" Which he found quite humorous... I suppose he was trying to use as much of the bread as possible. Almost twenty four hours later, and I am still laughing about it, even as I type this.
There, conjure with that for a while. I have a date with my new Sig.