I was in the dagblog.com office today, leaning on the bookshelf like I always do, when my friend Orlando came in, with her head jammed into a big ankh or whatever that thing is she works in. "Don't you ever take that big ankh off your head?" I asked. "And what's up with all these posts about girl stuff?"

"You wouldn't understand," she said. "But the avatar is really causing me some neck pain, I have to admit."

"You should just lean on books. Works great for me," I said.

"Whatev." Orlando continued. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." I was feeling generous.

"Well, A-Man, what's the secret to dagblog? I mean, you have these old posts that just keep getting reads. That doesn't even make sense. They're old. Why would anyone click on something you wrote about a Presidential debate that happened two months ago?"

I paused. This was a moment of decision. It was then I chose to share the secret handshake of dagblog. "I'll tell you, but you can't tell anyone else," I said.

Orlando was hooked. She even turned the big ankh thing sideways so she could look diagonally across it at me. "What is it?"

"The entire key to dagblog is in the read statistics. Now you could, of course, click your own piece. But that's worse than bad #4."

She nodded.

"The key to reads on dagblog is my biggest fan. If you click your title, and then click track, you see the IP addresses, right?"

She nodded, effortfully, from beneath her heavy ankh.

"Well, my number one fan is IP address 66.249.71.216. Responsible for dozens of reads on a given piece. I used to think it was a Glenn Close thing, you know, stalking my written work at all hours. Genghis tried to convince me it was a Google bot, crawling the web to cache data, or census how many hits we're getting, or something. But he's full of it. Genghis is just jealous of how often 66.249.71.216 comes to my pieces. Which is all. The. Time."

"I know what you mean, A-Man," she said knowingly. "Genghis' comments on my Pirate thing were disrespectful and sassy. He's seemed resentful lately. But as a new blogger, do I really have a chance with your friend, the, what is it, sixty-six dot whatever?"

"Absolutely, O. I checked the log just now and saw old 66.249 came by your Pirate thing at 19:11 today. So I think she's into you now. This could get your old pieces looked at, over and over, in the middle of the night, sometimes twice in a minute. That's when she comes by to read. She's got weird habits, but you take your fan base as they come, you know."

"Wow! She really viewed my thingy?" Orlando asked, diagonally. "That's so cool!"

"Yeah. Anyhow, do you mind bringing me some of that dagnog I made? I think we need to toast 66.249.71.216."

"I agree," she said. "And thanks for the tip. I'll stop picketing you guys for not having enough women bloggers. At least for a few days. That's quality blogmentoring." Just then, DF walked in silently, but carrying a really poignant picture, and handed us the dagblog insignia crystal. We raised three glasses and downed our blognog, with a clink, and a glug. "66.249.71.216, this one's for you!"