My little brother is so good to me. He brought me more Chernobyl beef jerky.

Yum! Ouch! Yum! Ouch! Yum! Ouch! Yum!

Tony says the company that makes the jerky might call me to do some work on their computer network. Maybe I could just trade them my services for Chernobyl beef jerky.

It’s Monday afternoon, and I’m in Citizens Photo, killing myself over which photo retouching system I should purchase (dyes? oils? inks?) when a woman standing near me says, “Excuse me, sir, can you tell me which…hey! Hi, J.D.!”

It’s Sue from the photography class. She’s killing herself over which photo retouching system she should purchase.

So, we spend the next half an hour together, killing ourselves over which photo retouching systems we should purchase: “Warren likes dyes.” “Inks are cheaper.” “Oils are more versatile.” “There are three sets of colors in each system — which set is best?” “Why don’t any of the sets have white? Doesn’t anyone have to touch-up white?”

The employees are antsy. It’s after five, and they want to go home. I decide to go with touch-up pens. Sue buys the dyes that Warren uses. We agree to compare notes later.

We pay each other compliments, each admiring the other’s work from class, and then we’re out the door.

Andrew and Dana and I had built a strong friendship at the end of the 1990s — we spent time together in Minnesota, in Portland, in Canby, pursuing pure geekness. Since we lived near each other, Andrew and I had formed an especially strong bond. Andrew’s life entered a tumultuous stage two years ago, though, and he began to shed his old life (or so it seemed to us on the outside). He and I haven’t had a good chat in years.

Monday night, Andrew and I made time to go out for Thai food and to visit Powells Books (where I was able to convert some useless computer books into Patrick O’Brian novels — hooray!). I’m glad we did. It was great to catch up with him, to listen to his perspective on his life, to hear his plans for the future.

Guess whose site is the number eight match on Google for the term milky women. That’s right! My question: why in the hell is anyone searching for the term “milky women”? (Actually: I don’t think I want to know.)

(Nick, as he watches me type this: “You’re really disappointing some men there, J.D.” Yes, I know. If I use milky women enough times in this weblog entry, it will become the number one match for milky women. And you know, that’s the audience I want coming to this weblog: those people searching out milky women! Nick again: “What’s Aunt Virginia going to say about this post?”)

It’s fun to have access to the search terms that lead people to this weblog. Here are the top search terms that have led people here each month since my hosting service started tabulating stats:

1. cold mountain synopsis (11)
2. a lesson before dying (9)
3. the power of one (8)
4. windows messaging for windows 2000 (7)
5. john krakauer (6)

1. a lesson before dying (20)
2. cold mountainquotes (12)
3. a midwife’s tale (10)
3. laurel thatcher ulrich (10)
3. pinched nerve shoulder (10)

1. pinched nerve (36)
2. the power of one by bryce courtenay (35)
3. david james duncan (31)
4. pinched nerve shoulder (30)
5. bryce courtenay (20)
5. laurel thatcher ulrich (20)

1. the power of one by bryce courtenay (37)
2. john krakauer (30)
3. david james duncan (27)
4. a thousand acres by jane smiley (24)
5. pinched nerve shoulder (22)

1. helms deep (36)
2. david james duncan (33)
3. chewy gingerbread cookies (23)
4. best gingerbread cookies (22)
5. bryce courtenay (21)

1. helms deep (29)
2. pinched nerve shoulder (21)
3. the power of one by bryce courtenay (20)
4. david james duncan (19)
5. pinched nerve in shoulder (18)

1. helms deep (100)
2. pinched nerve shoulder (23)
3. shaved cat (23)
4. cold mountain quotes (22)
5. david james duncan (22)
5. rating movies (22)

March (first nine days)
1. helms deep (29)
2. meteorlogical spring (17)
3. scrabout free download (17)
4. pinched nerve shoulder (10)
5. homsar Halloween (9)
5. pinched nerve in shoulder (9)
5. jd roth (9)

My entry on Peter Jackson’s Helms Deep is popular (er…unpopular), and I still get spiteful comments and e-mail messages to this day. My encounter with adhesive capsulitis draws a lot of hits, too.

The stats make it quite clear that most of the hits to come on the book group pages. This is why I feel compelled to complete them; I’m embarrassed to have so many people come here looking for book info only to find a mass of disorganization.

Another use for stats is determining how many people visit my weblog. Here are the average number of visits per day that my front page has received during the past few months:

Aug: 25
Sep: 29
Oct: 45
Nov: 57
Dec: 77
Jan: 109
Feb: 114
Mar: 108

I know of maybe two dozen friends and family that read this, but where do the other hits come from? Don’t be shy: leave a comment and let me know who you are!

On this day at

I’m the Best Uncle Ever
  My nephew, Alex, came in to work today. I watched him while Tony worked. Alex showed me ants and birds and Big Water. I gave him a Ding Dong. This is our story.


On 12 March 2003 (10:02 AM),
Dana said:

Your guess about Milky Women is probably spot on, even if you leave it unvoiced.

I, however, am more curious about why people are searching for ‘shaved cat’…


On 12 March 2003 (11:53 AM),
Dave said:

Ummm, how exactly did you come to find out that you’re #8 on a “milky women” Google search?

On 12 March 2003 (12:24 PM),
J.D. said:

Stats log, man! Stats log!

I like to browse my stats to see what brings people here, and sometimes discover surprises. Like milky women.

On 12 March 2003 (03:44 PM),
Drew said:

Indeed, it was good to re-connect with JD once again. I discovered a fascinating, incontrovertible fact about JD that evening – he has no tongue. Yes, i know you must be saying to yourself that this seems impossible since he wags it so often. But, i witnessed it with mine own eyes. He has no tongue.

We dined at a fine purveyor of Thai cusine – Sweet Basil on Broadway. JD ordered the curry (predictably). I ordered the soup (predictably). When asked if he would like his curry mild, medium, wild, or extreme, JD, without a blink, said extreme. Abashedly I warned him, “JD, they don’t play here.” With an only slightly smug look he says, “I like it hot.” So our meals arrived. JD’s curry is seething with spice (Arrakis?) – chunks of chicken floating in a molten cauldron of curried coconut milk. I eat my soup waiting for that cartoon moment when whistles pop out of his ears, flames jet from his mouth, and he turns bright red like a thermometer rising from his feet to his head.

It never came.

At one point during the meal, with only slightly rheumy eyes, he pops a cube of something unrecognizable from the heavy coat of devil pepper powder into his mouth and states, “This is the fourth hottest meal I’ve ever had.” That’s when I realized that JD has no tongue. Perhaps, it’s a prosthetic device. Perhaps, it’s bionic (comments Kris?). Perhaps his hypoglossal nerve was damaged in a freak photography accident. One can speculate, but not dispute JD’s tonguelessness.

Many church groups are holding prayer vigils (most notably the Mennonites, but the Unitarians are giving it a good go too) that a suitable tongue donor be located. Maybe a foolish teenager with O negative bloodtype will win a Darwin award in such a way that his viril tongue might be harvested and transplanted into JD’s bereft mouth. If you would like to contribute to the JD Tongue Fund please send a check or money order to Eclipse Technical Consulting LLC. Thank you for your steadfast support.

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