I have noticed lately that the stats on my site are up as are the number of subscribers, as in they recently doubled. Huh? Cool. But, um, comments not so much.
I think maybe I haven't been writing about topics that are getting people talking. It's either that or you don't really like me anymore. I am an optimist, I am hoping it's the former, not the latter. So today, I am going to get you talking. That's right folks. Get your fingers ready, you are going to want to weigh in on this very important issue.
I have been doing this blogging thing for more three years, I totally flaked and missed my blogaversary, it was in March. And my 5ooth post is just around the corner.
Blogging is really fun hobby and has allowed me to spread my opinionated wings. But the best part of it all, well aside from sharing my life with family and friends, and you know, the internet, has been the love and support of my very loyal commenters. Thank you to each and every one of you. Many of you have become friends, this whole internet thing, it's pretty cool.
But I know there are many that read this and never comment. Today is your day. Come out and let me know you are reading this. I promise to welcome you with open arms. Say hi just this once. Or email. Or mention it in a conversation. The comments let me know there are people out there reading this and if the comments wane or stop, them maybe I should stop blathering on. I can take a hint. Really I can.
Actually I probably wouldn't stop but I would get mean and angry. Don't make put on my angry eyes.
Instead, let's get talking about underwear.
That's right. I said underwear. My husband, Jay, has very strong opinions on what names we cannot use for unmentionables. He is not strongly opinionated on much so we let him have his reign of dictatorship over the names of our undies.
Not allowed to be uttered, even under your breath, in the Khlopchyk house are the following:
-and my personal all time fave, under-gotchies
There are many names for that which we wear under our clothes. In our house, they are known as underwear. For the boys and for me, they are all underwear. Boring, maybe. But can you really say gotchies and keep a straight face? I'll be honest. I'd have a hard time taking you seriously if you use the word gotchies in a sentence. I mean no offense, it's just that Jay's dictatorship has brain washed me. Blame him.
So in anticipation of my upcoming 500th post, let's break my comment record! So far it stands at 29, when Jack had his eye surgery. Let's break it!
Tell me what you call 'em! Really, I want to know even if it's on the banned list. I won't judge you, I promise.