Hoors? Yeah... Hoors. Prostitutes, Tarts, Hookers, Ladies of Negotiable Affection, call them what you will. For 8 years or so I lived in granite tenement. My Neighbours Were Hoors. Sadly for us all (!?) the brothel was closed down and I moved out of the area. I never did get around to writing about the court case though...

Sunday, June 03, 2007

I know what your cat has been up to

Ladies and Gentlemen. Sitemeter is a very useful (and free) tool. Never let it be said that I don't give any blogging tools free publicity.

You can see where people accessing your site live.

You can see when they access the site from their workplace (and hence I'd like to say a big "HI!" to all the uk government workers out there :)

And more to the point, you can see what they were searching for on google when they found your site.

And that, faithful readers, lets me know an awful lot about the strange people out there. I have previously blogged about "my neighbours don't like me," "what should I do if I suspect someone is running a brothel" and "How do I decorate my flat like a brothel interior." But nothing could have prepared me for this:

"Why does my female cat like to play in my dirty undies"


Answer: I don't know. Perhaps there is a Dr Pussy Freud out there with a comfortable couch and inkblots of balls of string and toy mice that might be able to help you out?

Either that or stop washing your pats in new Bold Non-Biological Catnip Fresh.

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