tick tock

I am feeling very big headed rather special at the moment as in the last week my blog has passed the two hundred followers point and reached twenty thousand page views.
I'm suitably impressed with myself.

To celebrate I made a cake.
Like I need an excuse to make a cake.

Help yourselves to a virual slice.

There is one thing that always puzzles me about the followers gadget though. Have you ever counted the number of people that actually show up on the list ?
There are always slightly less there then the actual number, I first noticed this when I had about 50 - the discrepancy then was just two, now it's about seven. It's not, as I first thought, anonymous followers - I checked that out - anonymous really does mean just that, and you don't see them anywhere.
They're the real stalkers of the blogging world.

Nor is it the people who follow via Reader or Feedburner, I have more followers in both and they do not appear in the gadget, only those who use 'friend connect' or the Navbar link show up.
So who are these people ? Where are these people ?
Are any of you reading this ? And if so can you tell me how you are not appearing in the gadget but showing in the numbers ?
I know it doesn't matter. . . .I don't lose sleep over it, I'm just curious.

And it might come in handy the next time I want to lurk around and stalk follow some fit young fella's blog.

What I am losing sleep over - or rather what is depriving me of sleep is fucking vile horrible night sweats, accompanied by my legs refusal to be comfortable no matter where I put them.
(Men - look away now, I am going to moan about 'womens things').
Yeah, I might think I'm still 25 but my body has decided to let me know that this is really not the case. Thanks mother nature, has anyone ever told you you're a fucking bitch.

I feel like someone's following me around with a flame thrower, and if I catch the cunt I'm going to knock him the fuck out then stick it up his arse. (Mood swings. . . what mood swings ?) There is no warning when one of these delightful flushes is going to happen, one minute I'm stood there joking with a fella in the queue in the shop about winning the lottery, then suddenly I'm bright red and sweating.

Wonder if he's ever had that effect on women before.

It's like a combination of a drug induced head rush and an orgasm.
Except it's not nice.
And you wouldn't want to be doing either in the queue in the shop or on the bus. Well I dunno, you might - but I have actually done one of those as well and I wouldn't recommend it.

I'm on fire.

If this starts to turn into a blog about getting older (who know's what other joyful things this current phase may do to my brain) perhaps one of the mysterious stalkers can hunt me down and knock some sense into me. Or give me a large dose of hormones.
Apparently that's the cure, and will turn me into an even tempered, well behaved model of sweetness and light. Seeing as I was never one of them anyway that might be a fucking miracle difficult.

That's quite enough about that subject.

As I may have bragged about mentioned once or twice I am going to India for a month in December.
Eight weeks and counting.
I have no intention of spending time on the Internet while I'm there, while I will check my emails from time to time I'm not going to be sat in an Internet cafe when I can be on the beach.

I won't mind sweating there, I can blame it on the weather.

So I am hoping that maybe a couple of you would like to guest post here in my absence. I already have two volunteers, so only looking for one or two more, would anyone else like to do it ?
A chance to show your stuff to all the other regular readers here.
Email me if you do, you can do that from my G+ profile.

I'm off, I need to buy a job lot of industrial size fans on ebay.
And I BETTER get a discount or there will be trouble.

This ought to do the trick. . . now I just need a really big man bag to carry 

them around.