DIACF, F!nd-The-B3s+

About once a month, I get a bizzarely-skewed inquiry e-mail from what I'll call "F1nd +he B3s+." They assure me they work with big, bigtime websites, important players like -- gak -- HuffPo and WatchingCarsRust Golf Digest* and if I'd just accept the largess of them embedding some searchy-links in my website -- "integrate our highly engaging content with your site" like a tick up a cat's rectum -- why, all the nations of world would be mine, mine, mine and my readers would experience a whole new level of convenience, bliss and occasional incontinence.

Wait, I made up the part about incontinence. Also bliss.

And they would do all this for me -- and you, yes you, Dear Reader -- because I guess we're too dumb to work Bing or Google, and because of course, you'd use an online search-engine to search directly for a personal firearm. (Reviews, maybe, but face it, any Ring of Fire slagmaker can whomp up a glitzy website and hire some SEO flacks.)

My reply is always the same, "Get Lost" over a full quote of their message, and they never, ever take the hint; I always get back a wanly-grinning Dale-Carnegiesque, "Thank you for the reply, I'd really appreciate a minute of your time to learn why this is not of interest to you."

Well, see, buddy, I am neither HuffPo nor The Watching-Paint-Dry Intelligencer. This is my hobby. And what you see on this blog is what I think and see and say. Nobody else gets to generate the content. Go play search engine with a stacked deck somewhere else.
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* Gentlemen, for as long as I have been seeing golf, I have been finding it indigestible. Just sayin'.