Ok, I admit it.

I will start by saying that this isn't very good. However, I joked in passing the other day that I missed the japanese pornbots that used to spam my blog with links to smut sites, because at least it made it look like I had readers. And when I thought about that remark, it was absurd even as a joke. Hence... this. And yes, I am fully aware that it is an unreasonable orgy of alliteration.

Ok, I admit it. I miss the porn-bots, and I'm sure to many this is an odd sentiment. I don't mean that the average person can't appreciate pornography; I defy you to find me a single sole who doesn't get something out of a bouncing pair of sweat-slicked breasts, be it a stiffening in their loins or a smug air of moral superiority - Oh no, I would never be so base as to partake.

Rather, I find a funny sort of comfort in the fact that somewhere out there, a program shuffled through the billions of bytes, the cornucopia of content, wormed its way through the web and bestowed its blessing upon my site. Erotica encrypted in tiny tidbits of text, familiar blue and underlined, donning the description of something less scandalous: want to play?

Truth is, the porn-bots give you the illusion that you're never ignored, never unimportant, never alone. Someone's out there, someone cares. Somewhere there's a panting, moaning audience that will never stop loyally replying to your banal blog entries, your pedestrian posts, your trite tweets. It's an appeal to the world's oldest fetish: narcissism.

Self love at its finest.