No more foxes
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Sometimes you can get too much information from your service provider. I'm keen to see how many people look at my blog. Of course I am. Where they link from can also be useful information. That can also be a little worrying. In the latest stats I've been looking at there seems to be a common thread: a number of people are linking from sites that specialise in bestiality.
That gave me pause for thought. No, not paws. What could bring afficianados of the fur and the wool to my humble site? Then it struck me, like the fetlock of a well-turned horse's leg. Foxes. I think I made a few too many references to vixens and cubs and early morning encounters some months ago. These entries are now cached in the search engines that serve those searching fulfilment with the more strongly scented and I have become a destination for the besty-boys.
No more foxes.
But on the train to Redhill this morning I saw a cute little rabbit hopping across the tracks, white-tailed rear proffered provocatively to the half-awake passengers.
That gave me pause for thought. No, not paws. What could bring afficianados of the fur and the wool to my humble site? Then it struck me, like the fetlock of a well-turned horse's leg. Foxes. I think I made a few too many references to vixens and cubs and early morning encounters some months ago. These entries are now cached in the search engines that serve those searching fulfilment with the more strongly scented and I have become a destination for the besty-boys.
No more foxes.
But on the train to Redhill this morning I saw a cute little rabbit hopping across the tracks, white-tailed rear proffered provocatively to the half-awake passengers.
