Today celebrates one fine, fun filled year on the net. I launched the blog, and @romancingAlix on the 8th June 2011, and have been having fun ever since.
I raise a glass and *cheers* to everyone who has come by and followed along the way.
Some interesting stats.
I hit 35,000 visits yesterday
The most viewed post: My Muse Deserves To Climax with 3,705 views.
Search engines have brought 12, 946 people to the blog, then twitter, with 811 views.
Since February wordpress tells me 4,333 have come from the United States of America, 1,118 from Australia and 968 from the United Kingdom with another 116 countries represented.
Where did it start? It started with Romance.
How am I going to celebrate? By introducing to you, an amazing talent who has started his blog today: Bleu Djinn …I like the synchronizing and I love him. I worked with him almost fifteen years ago with his visual art and have always known I would work with him again. I believe he is a rare talent, and I am proud to share him with you. He’s a visual artist, a poet and a writer, and he is Bleu Djinn.
He sent me this email the other day. I had written to him and told him about the blog, my writing and a graphic novel idea.
“Jesus you saucy wench…some people get writers block….you get writers blog!now bare with me [ as you know I am a bit slow ] I am just trying to get up to speed here…I sent you this 2 years ago
Santa Maria – Umbrailpass – Stilfserjoch The scenery was magnificent. Eventually I caught up with your party by using the GPS tracking chip that I had concealed previously on your watch, the expense of which ensured it was close to your person at all times.I saw the cow first. It was very dead. The Porche was next, it had flipped several meters up from the hulking, fresh roadkill. Dangling upside down from the the front seat was the man from the french couple, still dripping blood and wearing the manglled beasts horns in his chest. He was equally dead. It was clear, however, that your body was not in the wreck.
There were several clues as to what had transpired.
Obviously the lone cow had wandered into the middle of the bend in the road, this stretch was notorious for such random bovine obstructions. Taking the hairpin corner at 200 km an hour was madness in the light snow conditions, and even with spiked ice tires the driver couldn’t swerve to avoid this lurking dairy monster, the cows spine was shattered instantly. The driver was pulling 5 g’s inside the cabin but the cows head was ripped off and embedded in his torso, tearing the steering wheel along the way, meanwhile the wife on the passenger side had no seatbelt and was blasted through the windshield. I found her sprawled face down in the snow, the angle of her head was completely wrong. Freakishly her mouth was impaled on the branch from a tree stub, her skirt was riding up her open thighs and I could see her panties, even dead she had a splendid arse and for some reason she was wearing your driving boots. Evidently you both had good taste. The scene was macarbe and intensely stimulating and it was a while before I noticed the drag marks from the inverted car wreck behind me. I could see your body had been pulled from the carnage leaving a trail in the snow that petered off into the steep rocky terrain leading to the woods. When I examined the scenario even more closely I realised there were two sets of skid marks. Another car had been tailing your Porche. I guessed Interpol.
The Umbrailpass was’t merely notorious for intrusive cows. It was a popular smugglers route. Swiss customs officials would often use the tunnels to ambush their quarry.
I followed the trail left from your body into the sloping pine forrest and came quietly upon a frosted glade only to be confronted by a most astounding, beautiful and violent tableau. Without thinking I was sliding into preparation for a close quarter battle encounter. My weapon was already out, 10 and a half inches of brush polished black russian steel. I liked to use the Russian Nagant M1895. So fucking old school it was used to terminate the Zsars family….the suppressor made it extra long but combined with the revolvers original double action gas seal it was the first truly silent hand gun…even modern automatics often reach only 90% of its effectiveness. This was covert iron, and it was built to withstand Russian winters. I love killing pigs and it was swift, brutal and silent.
Still on a rush from the buzzkills I gazed in a kind of stunned rapture at your spreadeagled and unconcious form. The drugs and
cash had not been enough for our enterprising interpol agents. They were opportunistic as well and had other booty in mind. Yours.
Your wrists and ankles were pinned on tent pegs and you were strechted out and lashed over the charred bearskin seat covers they had pulled from the smoking car wreck, which was lucky as your already pale skin had a slight blue tinge with the onset of hypothermia. I couldnt help but notice your luxurious lingerie and the delicate lace on your fine mesh panties exquisitely stuffed into your mouth. You really had good taste after all, even if your dead girlfriend was deep throating a tree root while wearing your boots. I would fetch them for you later, I thought, wresting your knickers from your tongue.
Snapping out of my delightful reverie I ascertained you were still breathing and my main concern was now to encourage warmth and vigor into your stiff and splayed limbs. At this point I became aware that the blood spray patterns on your inner thighs were infact not yours but those of my first victim who had been on his knees between your legs. Perhaps I had got there in the nick of time after all…and then again, judging by your unconscious pout, perhaps you resented the interruption. I placed the warm gun muzzle on your stomach and went to work.
Which by the way has been further augmented with a much snappier ending and the addition of 10 and a half inches of brush polished black russian steel…and you still owe me the next bit due to some kind of performance anxiety!however, tardy though you are, it appears you have over compensated in your delivery [ No Soft Soap et al ] a publishing site and a new monicker…Well Alix,I am impressed.In answer to your questions…yesyou will receive your due filth…comix and the like, in addition, moreover there is the question of punishment.As you are no doubt aware, if there is one thing I cannot tolerate, it is lateness.Now while your entrepreneurial excellence is to be lauded; and your writing did enlist in me a demon that was surely dealt with,
despite all these accomplishments, and probably due to them…
I know it is with wanton relish that you will accept your chastisement,
like the dirty little ginger punk haired school girl you still clearly are,
baring your alabaster arse cheeks in that musty office all those years ago;
and so your pounding shall be as follows;