Amateur Hour

As we hurtle towards the second week of househusbandnot's existence, I've spent some time checking on traffic and stuff. How many people have visited househusbandnot. How many page views compared to visits - a differentiation I have to concentrate really really hard on to understand each and every time I think about it and then goldfish-like I just forget it before I have to think about it again. What time people visit. How long they stay. Whether or not they might be the CIA. And you can also check by location too. Someone has checked in from Hawaii. (If you are still there dude, John Lewis is a department store in London.)

But no comments to any of the househusbandnot posts, except for one on the first day about a technical problem I had. But I am thinking this is a good thing because I would not want the sort of people who comment on blogs - "Your wife looks really ugly man", "I've checked back on the JavaScript and it still doesn't work", "What's so wrong with the *&*^ing death-penalty. It *&^ing works here", "I'm over 18 I promis", "Well if you had ever taken the time to actually come to Canada you would see what an interesting country it actually is", "Trampo durissimo dude", "I think Men Without Hats worked much better as a live act", "Are you the man who has been hiding in my cupboard since summer of 1973" etc. - to be reading mine and getting any ideas about me being Jesus or something.

I am also quite excited that I managed to load a photo onto one of the posts too. I am going to limit the illustrations though. I see no point in writing about something and then having a dull photo of the same thing next to it. It kind of kills the writing and or kills the photo before anyone has checked either of them out. Actually, developing a theme, someone should produce a newspaper that just has photos and no words...oh yeah The Evening Standard. (Hawaiian dude, it's an evening newspaper here. Speaking of Hawaii, on the very first visit I made to my future in laws, they were showing us their holiday videos of their recent trip to Hawaii, and I glanced at the tv screen and saw what I thought was my future father in law bending over in a very revealing coarse leather mini skirt. It turned out to be a local craftsman making a pot. That's me all out of Hawaii anecdotes.)

I tried to contact househusband in Australia who I mentioned in Waiting Times. But could not get through to him. I thought we could become friends. Maybe he got divorced. Anyway I don't care about him anymore because we are going to spend the weekend with a real house husband and his wife. I am going to study this magnificent creature's habits, and watch his movements, and try and figure out where he lost the not and managed to become the real deal. He's way ahead of me already, partly because he is bald but more because he can do stuff like put walls up and plaster ceilings. But he is addicted to chocolate, so I am going to feed him chocolate buttons until he tells me things.

There is a quiet thoughtful man here today doing the tiling in the kitchen and bathroom. He told me that the minute he had kids he just tiled the whole of the inside of his house to save on the housecleaning. His kids must feel right at home when he takes them to see the penguin enclosure at London Zoo. (It's a zoo dude, in London.)

Will report back early next week on how it went with the Real Deal and the chocolate trick.