Begging for traffic, and other... things.

So, I've tried to make at least a little effort to get people to come view this site. The fine people over at Showcase post entries from new blogs, and they've sent me two whole people so far. Rock on!

You'll also note various icons on the bottom of the page. There are also some new links in the "Links" section. I wish to put the icons in the right sidebar, as opposed to the bottom of the page, but oddly that seems to be a more complicated endeavor than it really ought to be.

Oh, and I'm supposed to make up a filthy lie about Glenn Reynolds, but he said "You cannot make up a filthy lie about me because all horrible things ever said about me are true! Completely true! Buwahahahahahaaaa!" I had to offer him a Puppy Shake to keep him from burning down my dorm.

Anyway, I thought an interview with the President of the United States might bring in some pageviews. But he has yet to respond to my emails.

So, instead, I have an interview with... my roommate! (sorry, it's as close as I could get).

MM: So, what's it like being leader of the free world?
RM: I'm a comp sci major.
MM: Sorry... wrong set of questions. What's it like being an insignificant and widely unknown plebeian in some backwater town who is not the leader of the free world?
RM: Alright... I guess.
MM: What plans do you have to prevent the proliferation of nuclear weapons in the middle east?
RM: Where?
MM: Ok... What plans do you have to prevent the proliferation of all your stuff onto my side of the room?
RM: We must maintain the capacity to respond with deterrent force to all neighboring hostile, er, cleanliness.
MM: What if you were given a mandate by 50% of the voters in this room to clean up after yourself?
RM: We, as a room, cannot make unilateral decisions to clean. We must seek the strength and support of other rooms to make such wide-effecting decisions.
MM: Dude, friggin' clean up after yourself.
RM: Make me.

The interview quickly went downhill from there. I will do some literary writing for you over the weekend... maybe.

But, until then, I will leave you with this parting wisdom:

    Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard
    To fetch her poor daughter a dress.
    When she got there, the cupboard was bare
    And so was her daughter, I guess...