In my last post, I talked about the Battlestar Galactica FRACK-O-RAMA as being a fundraiser for me and my baby (well, baby to be - hasn't arrived yet (for those of you who missed it, I'm pregnant)).

We face two problems in getting the donations to me:

1. You can't send money as an email attachment. Try as you might, it looks like the best you can do is send files. I don't want your files.

2. I can't receive your money. Believe me, I'd really like to. So much so that, were you sitting here next to me, I'd mace you and take your wallet.

Money is clearly out of the question. We need a replacement currency. Something that has value, but which can be delivered without me macing you.

That currency, and I'm totally ashamed to ask for this, is links. I don't play the blog linking game, and my google rank has been slipping because of it. I don't think it's asking too much - just a link. Doesn't even have to be anything important. It could just be a sentence like, "Rory Blyth is a no good fish pirate." In this case, you wouldn't be telling anybody anything they didn't already know. I am a no good fish pirate. That phrase raises the question, though: Are there any fish pirates who aren't no good? I don't think there are. Maybe it's redundant, then.

I, Rory Blyth, am a fish pirate. Fish fear me. After they've felt my piratey wrath, they grow tear ducts just so they can cry. They grow legs so they can run away. Their minds develop so they can outsmart me.

I, Rory Blyth, fish pirate extraordinaire, am personally responsible for having created a race of unusually clever bipedal fish who could outrun a cheetah while having a good cry. I make no apologies for what I have done. A fish pirate has to make a living.

OK. That whole fish pirate thing - let's face it - it might not be the funniest thing I've ever written, but you know damn well it was entertaining. Would you deny yourself the pleasure of more writing like that? I know I'd deny you that pleasure, but that's only if I don't get some links, and also because I'm a no good fish pirate.

I just realized that this has gone from a request for charity to me holding my words hostage until you start linking to me. I don't know how it happened. The fish made me do it. They've developed mind control lasers. I didn't have a choice. One of the dangers of being a fish pirate.

Regardless of how stingy you want to be with your links, I'm still doing FRACK-O-RAMA. I figure this will motivate everybody to contribute. For those who want FRACK-O-RAMA to happen, your linky donations will be a reward for my incredibly hard work. For those who don't want FRACK-O-RAMA to happen, this week is a threat, but you can buy your way out of it with one of those damned links.

And, if you're thinking that you can get out of FRACK-O-RAMA by not visiting my site, then good luck. People come and go, but the ones who have any taste at all won't stay away. Even my nutbar enemies are reading this right now.

Let's just get this over with. Like a shot in the ass, this isn't going to be fun for anybody except the people who like to administer shots in the ass or the people who like to receive them. I mean to say that there's a huge possibility that some of you will enjoy linking to me.

Linking to me is like a shot in the ass.

I don't think I could have sold this idea more effectively than that.

You have twelve hours. For every additional hour, I will erase one word from my head. By my calculations, you have about 190,000 hours to get me those links before we're down to "the."

Here's a demo of what a post would look like if the only word I knew was "the":

The. The the the. The? The! The, the, the the the, the the the the the, the, the the.

The the the? The the the the the? The the the the the the the the the the the the the the the. The the the the... the the.

THE THE THE THE. THE THE THE THE(!) THE THE; the.

Is that what you want?

No; that's not what you want.

Don't make me do it. Be a little kind today.

[Update]

Craig Andera was the first to link. This is important, as he went to MIT. That means his IQ is, like, a billion. I think it's generally wise to try and emulate supergeniuses like Craig. He's setting a good example.

Charles Klein also linked. While I don't know where he went to school, he's obviously also a supergenius with an IQ of a billion.

Dick Carlson - Supergenius.

Dave Minter - Even made what he calls "the traditional incomprehensible web icon thingy":

Hey - see what's happening here? While I won't play the stupid blog linking game, I will offer a counter-donation. Although my google ranking has suffered a little, I still have some decent authority points, and I'm happy to try and raise yours if it means you'll indulge my greed.

[Update]

It's a few hours later. I had to exercise (keeps me sane-ish) and go buy popsicles. It took me eight hours. Sue me (actually, given that a couple of you have tried, I'd prefer you didn't - it's just an expression meant to convey how utterly, utterly I don't care at all about whatever anger you might choose to level at my fragile psyche).

I'm impressed. Had I known a long time ago that "Rory Blyth is a no good fish pirate" was the phrase that would get people linking to me, I'd have used it more often.

It's nice that you're enjoying it, but let's not lose site of what this is all about. It isn't about who is or isn't a no good fish pirate. That'll sort itself out.

What this is really about, then, is my pregnancy. Don't let me and my baby down. We're counting on you. For links. If that makes any sense at all.

During the eight hours I was away exercising and buying popsicles (lime, pineapple, and mandarin orange), some more links came in, and I'd like to return the favor...

Brian Kuhn - Brian asks if I'm a link whore or a genius. I like to think I was a genius yesterday, will be a genius again tomorrow, but am seriously whoring it up right now. Yeehaw! I'm a pregnant link whore! That's like the web equivalent of white trash. All that's missing is a menthol light cigarette hanging off the edge of my lip while I drive a yellow mid 70s Camaro to the liquor store where I'll ask all my kids in the back to wait while I go in and buy a two-liter plastic bottle of gin and a lotto ticket (and don't you people get your chest hair up in a Tesla poofing over this Camaro thing - if you want, I'll argue Firebirds vs. Camaros with you, and I'll so rock you that you'll know you were rocked because I rocked you and it'll be some serious rockage - please don't make me rock you).

Andy - Andy called me a dork. It would hurt my feelings on any normal day, but today all that interests me is the number of inbound links. It's like I cut my heart out for just one day. Unfeeling. Detached. And really confused because I don't know how I'm going to reattach my heart. It has all these holes and veins and things, but no manual. NO MANUAL. Way to go, nature. Guess I'm just gonna have to wing it.

Todd McKinney - In his post, Todd said that a link was the least he could do for me. I hope you're all taking notes. Here's a fun idea for a way to challenge yourself if you're bored at work or something - ask yourself what the most you could do for me would be. Then, once you've figured it out, do it. I was thinking that the most any of you could do for me was transfer your life to me. Like, if there was a machine that could transfer life energy (it exists because I sawed it on Stargate) from one person to another, then you could just give me whatever you have left. If it's twenty years, then that's cool. If it's a decade, then that's all right, too. You also shouldn't worry too much about giving up all your life; after you're dead, you won't be needing it.

Maggie - She's probably the most well educated person to have ever read my site. My father is certainly up there in straight intelligence, but his education is rather lacking. He's only read two books. The first was The Hobbit, and the second was Chuck Yeager's biography. We were all proud when he read Chuck's biography, as it instantly doubled his literary knowledge. I gave him a shiny blue star sticker for having read so many books in only four decades. We've been trying to get him to read a third, but his head must already be splitting from the burden of all the data he carries atop his shoulders everyday. He's amazing at Trivial Pursuit. If the answer to the question is either "The Hobbit" or "Chuck Yeager's Biography," then he's all over it like a hobbit on a pot pipe.

Mr. Angry - For someone called "Mr. Angry," this guy's surprisingly nice. He's from another country can you guess it I bet you can't it starts with a "C" and ends with an "a" and in the middle it has "anad." Do you give up? I don't! He's from Australia! I said you couldn't guess it, but that's because I knew I was going to deceive you, and you fell for it. Anyway, they have kangaroos in Australia, and it's also where hamsters and ducks come from. The weather is generally hotter or colder than other places. They use a gasoline called "petrol," which is different from real gas (the kind made in 'MERICA where the ground bleeds true blue crude) because there are Sea Monkeys in it. It makes your engine work good because Sea Monkeys has five-hundred octanes, so your engine basically explodes when you start your car. All the Sea Monkeys die. It's the law in Australia that you have to pick through the burning wreckage with tweezers and an electron microscope to find all the Sea Monkey corpses. Then, where you stand, you have to build a Sea Monkey cemetery with a unique tombstone for each Sea Monkey. This has been a powerful accident deterrent since it takes about eighty years to find all the Sea Monkeys. What usually happens is you die on your own Sea Monkey cemetery before finishing, and then a large mutant Australian Sea Monkey comes along and buries you. It's pretty confusing, but it has something to do with their economy. That's Australia for you.

Greg Hughes - Greg is trying to show everybody up by having the biggest fish graphic you've ever seen. It's like the Ford Excursion of fish graphics. I'm afraid to even link to him because it might break the internet when you all go to look at the giantest fish graphic that was ever made. Looking into Greg's fish pic is like staring into your own soul. When I try to imagine the computer that could handle such an immense task, I faint. It's as though man wasn't meant to create fish pictures of that size. Some mysteries are better left unsolved. Some stones are better left unturned. Some possum roadkill shouldn't be eaten raw with a little barbeque sauce unless you're drunk.

John - John said I was a no good fish pirate, but he used a very, very, very bad word on the same page. If you go to John's site (and it's worth it - the guy's really entertaining), then keep your finger on the screen kind of near the bottom and to the right to hide the word. If there are any children in the room, then poke their eyes out before they see the bad word. Once the threat has passed, you can either poke your children's eyes back in or sell them on eBay. The previous sentence was unclear. Because of the structure, you can't tell if I'm suggesting that you sell your children's eyes or the children themselves on eBay. What you should do is sell them as a package - some assembly required. You never know... might get enough to pay off your credit card debt.

Bliz - If anyone knows just how incredibly screwed up the wiring in my brain is, it's probably you. I miss you. Asshole. Do you have any idea how happy I was to run into you in Mexico? I was ready to go feed myself to the iguanas, but then you showed up. Yep. Stuff like that never happens anymore. Kind of hard since I don't go on vacation and you live in freaking FLORIDA. Asshole. Hope you're happy, though (even if you're an asshole). I also miss your dog. I swear that thing used to teleport. I don't know what you put in its food. Asshole.

FnaD - You gotta be kidding me. Yeah, you got hit by a car, wound up in a hospital, got all these head fractures, had every inch of your body scanned with magnets and nanobots and other things, you hurt your wrist, wound up in serious pain, got put on the meds, had to take time away from work, and... you think that calling me a no good fish pirate belongs at the bottom of your post? Like it's a bloody footnote? You, sir, besmirch my good name. My good name is besmirchen. (All joking aside, I honestly hope you get better.)

John Sagara - Like Brian, John says I'm a link whore. I continue to agree. Not only that, but I cherish my status in the community as a link whore. I feel like I've finally come out of the link whore closet, and it feels wonderful. No more hiding my base desire for linky recognition. I had my cards pressed against my breasts, but now I lay them on the table for all to see. It got me kicked out of the casino, but I thought it was a nice gesture.

Betsy Aoki - I feel your pain about speaking, as well as the exhaustion that follows. I love it - it forces you to think on your feet - but it's also one of the most tiring things I've ever done. Particularly week after week after week. No matter how much you love something, if it's that tiring, it'll eventually catch up to you (you've noticed that I went nuts - this might be my brain's revenge for the stress I put it through these past few years). Get some sleep, yo. It doesn't really help, but you think it will, and that gives you hope, and that giving of hope gives fate something to destroy in the morning when you wake up just as tired as you were when you went to sleep. Crap. This is getting depressing. What I mean is: I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. It's going to be a bright, bright sun-shiny day. Something, something, something... I don't know the rest of the words. They're probably just more meteorological references. "I'm going blind, the arctic wind is freezing my eyes. It's going to be a short day, 'cause we're all going to freeze to death. Something, something, something..."   "I'm going blind, the debris from the asteroid is burning my eyes. It's the end of the world and we're all burning. Oh, crap. Something, something, something..."   "I can't see at all, the sandstorm is raging. It's removed all my skin and I'm fresh out of Bactine. Something, something, something..."   "I can see just fine, but my spacesuit has a hole in it. I'm losing oxygen, and my blood is boiling as it freezes. This really sucks. Something, something, something..."   "I have astigmatism, and there's a sixty percent chance of hail. Nobody cares. Something, something, something..." Yep. That's the songwriter in me coming out. Pretty talented. Yup.

More to come, I expect.

I hope.

Remember: My baby's counting on you!

Wow. You all really fell for that baby thing. I know I said my baby's counting on you, but technically it's still a fetus and doesn't know anything at all about links. All it does all day is placentally leech off of the nutrients in my bloodstream. I ate four tubs of avocado ice-cream today, and I'm still hungry.

Here's the latest...

Adam Kinney - One of my favorite coworkers. I'm actually surprised that anybody at work, and especially someone as sophisticated as Adam, even reads this crap. What's the totally awesome about Adam is that, not only did he link to me despite being a coworker (and therefore someone who knows firsthand what an asshole I am), but he also drew a picture of me as a fish pirate being controlled by a fish with its mind control laser. Oddly, though, there doesn't seem to be a laser in the drawing. He wrote about it, but it isn't there. That's so Adam.

SteveX - Straight and to the point. He seems driven to help me rise through the ranks until I'm the most popular, most awesomest search result for "fish pirate." I couldn't ask for anything more.

Erwin Blonk - This man found time in the day to punch a hole through his poker addiction and get all linky on me. If Erwin can suffer through minor poker withdrawal, then you can, too. Even if you aren't addicted to poker - there's enough poker addiction to go around for everybody. If we can spread poker all over the world like a bunch of gloppy seal blubber that's been rendered by leaving it outside in a bucket for an entire month, then we could potentially give every child on the face of the Earth a poker addiction. With any luck, they'll pass the addiction onto their own children, and in several generations, the emerging global economy could be based entirely on poker. Nobody will make money; they'll trade it back and forth. If they go to the market, they'll pay for goods and services using poker chips. In a few centuries, all the people who didn't have good poker faces will have died out due to critical poker loss. If you can't ante in, then you sure as hell can't eat. This will leave behind a new breed of human unable to convey emotion with facial expressions. The human race will then die out because the one thought everybody will be thinking is this: "I don't think that other person likes me." It will put an end to social functions, breeding, and even war. The whole world will be overtaken by apathy and then just die. That's all. There won't even be a parade. Just massive death. So, thanks for the link, Erwin! And I think I speak for everybody when I wish you luck on destroying the human race :)

ArcaneCode - While not attempting to outdo anybody in the my-fish-graphic-is-bigger-than-your-fish-graphic battle, Mr. Code has attempted to squash everybody in the dual-link department. I know there are others who have one, two, or zero links to me, but Arcane was very clear about the web real estate he's given to promoting this fish pirate. Also, check out his subheader. It's effing awesome. (And here's the link to his work type site.)

Thera - Also known as Tee. I don't know what to say about her except that she's one of the most amazing people I've ever met. Brilliant and freakishly unpredictable. She'll talk to you about avionics. You'll pretend to understand, but because she's so much smarter than you are, the best you can do is nod and say "uh-huh" a lot. Sometimes you speak up, but it's always something like, "Three." That's all you've got. She's beautiful and she's made you so stupid that the only thing you can think of to say is "Three." It's probably not even related to the conversation. You just hope it is. Then you'll turn your head for two seconds, and while your head is turned, she'll fling off whatever footwear she's got on, run over to the nearest bit of grassy niceness, do five cartwheels in a row, run off, climb a tree, and then teach an entire family of possums Latin. This is all before you've turned your head back so you could say "Three" again. Most of you will never meet her. That sucks for you. Nobody made a second Tee.

Jivlain - It's kind of weird to write about anyone else after having written about Tee. Always puts me into this very confused state of mind. A lot of what happened with her happened when other things were happening. I was an emotional water balloon at the time. I won't elaborate on that image. I was going to, but then I started to run all the language through my head, and it kind of made me sick. I don't want to write something like, "It was easy to fill me up." It makes sense in the context of Rory as a water balloon, but were that quote ever to be taken out of context - by the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal - then it could be very damaging to my career. Right now I'm already a bipolar ex drug addict with suicidal tendencies. I don't think I need to add "And he's a water balloon" to the list.

OkeeDokee. Looks like that's all for now.

Thanks, people. I realize this was a sleazy operation, but you were good sports.

I also dug getting to write the individual thank you notes (although I don't think I actually used the words "thank you" in any of them). I'm probably going to go through here and construct posts around some of my favorites.

Nifty :)