"Hobobob, you've been looking at your statistics lately, what is your demographic?"
Someone asked me in conversation to that effect. I thought about it. I really did and my mind wandered to sitting around in my dark room, watching computer television. I'm lying there, contemplating terminating my life, or kicking the shit out of the people yakking in the hallway outside of my door, and I either see something on the TV or something pops into my brain. Honestly, my demented mind will churn something up from the ether and it'll motivate me. Or an email, or a phone call, or a conversation or something, almost anything. It just flicks a switch in my broken head and I pop up and jump behind the keyboard.
And then I stop! My fingers hovering over the keys, and I say to myself, "How should I shape and mold this thought to fit my demographic!" Uhhh, no. I write it, just like I feel it. I don't give a shit how it's taken, I just put it out there, straight from my corrupted heart. I think of it this way. People are coming to a blog written by a homeless, destitute, starving, angry, isolated, haunted, bitter, agonized motherfucker. What did you expect you were going to read here? Mary Poppins?
I love face fucking, I'm drawn to nightmares of death and destruction, I watch shadows and things move around my room, I've just about ran everyone off that loved or cared about me because I was a brutal alcoholic, I'm bitter and planning my own death when I have nothing else to do save trim my fingernails. Yeah, you'll see a lot of shit here...massive shit...real pretty shit. When I started this blog, it was full of humor. I was laughing all of the time, until as Shrek would say, the skins of the onion peeled away. I've been divorced from my cushy life for nearly a decade now, about six or seven years, and as I live like this, I loathe it. This self-loathing is almost without break. When there was hope in my life in the beginning, there was humor. But as hope faded, guess what? So did the jokes about it. I've come to the realization that there will be no miraculous rescue of me.
Hey, America is going through a very rough patch right now. I am under no illusions that I am the only one going through hard times. I never said that I was. On the contrary, I understand that there are hundreds of thousands of people suffering just as bad as I, or worse. I remember some time ago of a man killing his family and himself because he had lost his job, couldn't find employment and had his home finally foreclosed upon. Now I'm only thinking about killing myself, this guy did not fuck around. That's the difference between Suicidal Ideation and Suicidal Tendencies. Now that was a man who was feeling pain, and could not find a way out, except for The Option.
But I'm not here to talk about The Option, I'm here to go over my demo- graphic. Who do I think is coming to this blog, reading me, making my hits so high? Well, I can get a brief glimpse of the person or persons coming here simply from my statistics. By and far, the majority of my hits comes from the United States. Way ahead in hits. Just last week, 348 unique hits, and I didn't even write shit last week. Next runner up...damn, The Netherlands with 80 hits. Ha ha ha, this tells me that most people subscribe to my blog and are notified only if I post something new. That's why when I post, my hits shoot up and Great Britain and Saudi Arabia vie for second place, and when I don't, they go down and smaller nations pop up into second. So my guess is that a lot of you are subscribers in the U.S.
The next thing is that the majority of you are still searching out my name, Hobobob, or Hobo Bob and are coming from Google. Somehow you are hearing of me and just searching me straight off the bat. Further, a large number of you are coming from the web page of the radio show, 'This American Life', where I was on the radio. That's probably how you are hearing about me to search me out. Another healthy source of referrals are coming from the web page that my brother and I had made of poets coming to our venue when we used to have a variety show every Saturday, The Shout Out at Otto's. Many of you are coming from there, so I would guess, some of you are even interested in poetry. Probably coming here looking for some more, and finding Hell instead.
Then finally, there are the drips and drabs of the rest of you, who I love too. Those of you out there that are plying the Internet for porn. You know who you are! Primarily, the highest porn term used to find me is...ha ha ha, 'blowjob'. You guessed it. Hey, it's the greatest pastime of the ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD! Next is 'fat naked women'. Fat Naked Women? Who the fuck puts that in a search term? Fat Naked Men, such as I? And the two most confusing to me are 'finger in the ass' and 'ass-finger'. But shit, who am I to judge what you like to see in porn? If you like to see or read about a finger up someone's fucking ass, well then, more power to you. I doubt if these people are just coming for the pictures though. They could be, but I doubt it, unless they are rookie porn surfers.
I say this because there are a myriad sites that have just these photos, categorized by type, like blowjobs and assfucking, probably even ass-finger. There are a myriad sites that even discuss these things in great detail. And if you are really serious about getting your porn, go to IRC and get some real, out of this world shit. Porn that will fucking change your whole life. So why come to a site that has the occasional woman with a dick in her head, or a man showing off his penis when you can go to a single blog site and get hundreds of the same? That's what I do. So, if you are coming here to find any original porn photos I feel sorry for you. You'll only find duplicates of what is common, boring shit out there. What? Did you think that these pictures here were original? Like that's my dick in these women's mouths? Shit, the last time I had a blowjob, if I took a picture of it in my bedroom, you'd see Fred Flintstone driving by with his family outside the bedroom window.
So, what does this tell you about my 'demo- graphic'? Absolutely fucking nothing. My demo- graphic appears to be as diverse as the wacky thoughts in my head. Listen people, those of us who suffer from Bi-polar Disorder have as a primary symptom, RACING THOUGHTS. We take pills for it. Which means I have more thoughts going around in my head than the Indy 500. Translation: Hold on if you can. If you're here to see blowjobs, you're welcome, but you won't get many. If you're here to hear about death and destruction, or homelessness, you're welcome, but you won't get many. If you're here to read about 9/11, you're welcome, but you won't get much. If you're here to get more 'ass-finger', well I have to work on that one a little more.
I'm sorry folks. The bad news might be that I'm not thinking a lick about a demo- graphic when I write a post. I'm not trying to appeal to an audience. I'm not Richard Pryor on stage. I'm not here to make you laugh. I'm not Don King, I'm not trying to interest you in a fight. I'm not Ralph Nader, I don't care about social issues. I'm not Peter Jennings, I'm not trying to reach out to you to give you current events. I'm not anyone you know, except for Hobobob. You'll get to know me just by reading my posts, and once you know me, you'll know what to expect from me at that point on. I'm not trying to put shit INTO YOUR head, I'm trying to get shit OUTTA MY head!
Don't worry, I'm not trying to ascertain who you are, or what you like. I'm not trying to advertise to you so as to get your hard earned cash. You don't see any ads on this site do you? That means that this site is not leaving behind any cookies in your browser to track you, watching where you are going, to tailor advertisements to you. I don't give a fuck what you like, or who you are. All I have is a live and let live attitude. Meaning, you keep being you, and I'll keep being me. I believe it will be a better world if we all were different anyway, don't you?
So let me get busy, and pull more madness from the pus filled fissures of my brain and post it on the Internet. The last bastion of free thinking that we have left. I'll keep pushing the envelope though, I have to. I'm on the fringe of society, waving both my hands and jumping up and down so that my little wiener flops around like a tiny tail on reverse. I'm not ashamed and I don't really care. I'm quite insane, and I have the prescription drugs to prove it. So, let me write. I hope you enjoy at least one post from me this week.
And for all of you who enjoy seeing the occasional blowjob out there...this Bud's for you!HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2010/11/dancing-of-tiny-feet.html
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