A Genius Plan…….

(Megan Fox Soapy Tit Wank) As I am a friend to all my fellow blog writers, I am now going to pass on an amazing tip which will enable you lovely people to get many more visitors to your blogs.

I know it has been a feature for awhile, but I have only just had (Anne Hathaway looking all sexy like) a little look at the stats section of the Blogger dashboard, which is a veritable mine of information as to when, where, and what, the readers of this blog have been looking at. One of the best sections is the one that informs you of (Jessica Biel in a leather catsuit) what posts  have been getting the most views during the last week. It threw up a rather interesting surprise for me. Interesting, and a little disturbing.

Now on average my blog posts have been getting about 50 views a week. Not astronomical, I know, but it’s enough for me. But there was one post that I wrote that got an eyebrow (BOOBIES!) raising 392 views last week. And it was this one here

Now naturally the egotistic side of me automatically thought (Scarlet Johansson is a dirty bitch!) that this was due to the powerful, and quite frankly, life changing brilliance of the words that I wrote on that very page.
Sadly I was wrong. When I clicked on the traffic source section, which would tell me what link my readers clicked on that led them to my blog; at the top of the list was the link that led to this little lady’s photo (eyes left).
Hmmmmmmn.

And right underneath, in the keyword search, i.e. what people typed into their browsers that led to the link that led to my blog, were the search terms: Gemma Arterton, Gemma Arterton’s cleavage, and Gemma Artertons Big Tits.

So the popularity of this blog post was nothing to do with the writing, but more to do with ( Mila Kunis and her filthy sex tape!) the photo displayed on it, and people clicking on the link to get their perv on.

Now this could mean either two things.

1) There were an awful lot of teenage boys who really, really liked Gemma Arterton.
2) There was actually only one person who had a serious fixation on Gemma Arterton, and has just spent the last week tugging himself around his bedroom with my blog displayed proudly on his PC monitor. 392 times!

At first I was pretty horrified. I felt defiled and used for someone else’s sexual gratification. Now some men would pay good money for this feeling, but they would normally be (dirty bitches play fighting for you!) chained to the wall in some suburban fuck den while a rather bored and listless woman who is dressed as a Nazi kicks them repeatedly in the balls and tells them that they won’t amount to anything. It won’t be from an amazing piece of writing that they have quite literally poured their heart and souls into, and was now being used as a gateway for masturbatory fantasies.

But after my initial disgust had faded, I came up with a rather spiffing idea (why not watch Kate Beckinsale and Salma Hayek wrestle!). Why not use the power of the internet perverts to gain some more readers?

Picture the scene. Little Johnny is sitting at his computer, box of Kleenex at one side, Johnsons baby oil at the other, and is getting into his groove. All of a sudden his eyes twitch from the photo displayed on the screen to the words surrounding them. His is distracted from (Elisha Cuthbert playing volleyball) the beautiful, porcelain features of Gemma Arterton by the amazing sentences that I have created.

I’m torn, thinks Little Johnny. I literally have balls the size of cantaloupes right now, but I can’t concentrate on anything else but finding out how this blog post actually ends.

Visibly shrinking, Little Johnny pulls up his trousers, his heart ruling over his neither regions, and finishes reading my post. Like a crack addict jonesing for their next fix, he has to read more. So he does. Before you know it, he has joined up, thrown aside his favourite past time of (Ashley Dupre-Spandex-Need I Say More?) seeing how many times he could jerk off in one hour, and has now immersed himself fully in my writing. Who knows, perhaps I could even inspire him to start up his own blog?

He could discover a fire in his belly that never knew existed and eventually becomes a bestselling novelist. And it would all be because of me. All of it, all down to me, because I am great.

Now naturally I would never dream of taking sole responsibility for his sudden change in life, nor the success that would befall him. Maybe a dedication in his first book perhaps: Dan, you were a hero and an inspiration to me. I would never have done it without you. You are more God than man.

Something simple like that.

Now in order to harness the untapped potential of the pervert market, I am now going to pepper my posts with pictures of hot women, and subliminally insert the types of search terms (Alison Stokke and her lovely watermelons!) that these sexually frustrated individuals would use to get their rocks off, hence making them flock like moths to a light bulb to my blog.

Genius, no?

Now you may say this is cheapening my blog, but in all honestly, guys, you have been reading the shit that I put out, right? Seriously, it can’t really get any lower than this. Just think of it as natural progression. And my soul was screwed years ago, believe me.  

So please feel free to use this plan for your own blogs. I expect to see each new post literally plastered with smoking hot babes, and hopefully contain sentences that would make a sailor, who is just on shore leave, and hasn’t even seen a womanly shape for about nine months, but is now faced with a hot lady who is making sexy eyes at him, and is making “come here tiger” motions with her hands and jiggling all her lady bits in his directions, blush.

There is only one major drawback to this plan though. Anyone who now joins up to my blog after this post is now going to be singled out as an internet masturbator and will have everyone pointing at them and whispering “We know what you do”

But hey, no one said that you don’t have to make some sacrifices in life, right?

(A pair of gigantic enormobooobs literally bursting out of the screen at you and waving about in your face. You want that, don’t you?)