In my opinion pingbacks 'broke' blogging and made them all look like spam.

The only other suggestion I have is for you to have max comments, so from your perspective once you are “done” with a topic you can stop moderating.

and so, what will you trade or offer in return ?

The dofollow works fine as for moderation, i have been lazy on that so far. Do give us your feedback or email me with any suggestions you have.

Regards,

http://www.seroundtable.com/archives/015004.html

This is fiction and I have the script completed. If you’re interested, please call me.

It is not often that a person gets to be fortunate enough to give temporary absolution of sin by the simple twist and pour of a bottle of whiskey seven days a week. Yes, I realize that I am not God, but nonetheless, I pour a drink and after the third drink, the secrets held and considered safe within the most inner sanctum of a person subconscious mind, just simply pour out just as whatever they are drinking. I don’t particularly trick people into telling me things. This is something that just happens and of course, we all know it’s the alcohol. For some, beer does the trick, but for many the hard stuff is what does them in.. My clients come to me, say “hello,” ask for a drink, pay me and leave. Some linger until dusk, but eventually they leave having shared one or two secrets. Perhaps this helps them to deal with their reality. Yes, I will admit that being a bartender in New York for the past 10 years has enriched my life in many ways. Economically, I am doing fantastic. I listen, play “Dear Abby” to some and get paid for it. Nice tips everyone. Emotionally, I am a wasted and abused punching bag. Sometimes, I find it hard going back to work, knowing full well, that I will once again become “Dear Abby”. I have met people from all walks of life and have endured great humiliation through this so called twist of fate, becoming a bartender in New York City. Growing up I always thought I would marry, be successful and have children living in suburbia, but that never happened. I guess I never met “Ms. Right.” Or perhaps, “fate” as it is called never meant to deal me a good hand to begin with. I remember the Fridays and Saturday nights. They were my favorite nights. Yes, I will admit that sometimes I was lonely and that he occasional “lonely lady” looking to get laid would come to me with her emotional troubles. I was considered safe, being that I was behind a counter, but that never stopped some of them from going home with me that same evening after my shift was over. Sometimes, I would get into a cab with my new found girlfriend and I would tell myself, “I have a great job.” Some nights were wonderful. I remember making close to $1,000 dollars in one night. I’d share the bounty with another bartender and we were happy until one night in September of 2008. Someone came into our bar and shared something they should not have shared with me. I remember at one point in our conversation, I told him to stop talking and to go home, but he didn’t stop. This customer, just kept on talking and he told me things that I would regret hearing for the rest of my life. I am now hiding in South America and I hoping that someone out there could help me. I have a secret and there are people whom do not want it known. My friend, Mr. Lazarus was killed the very next morning on his way home from our bar. He was run over by a car as he crossed the street to his house. I confided in a co-worker and told him about what Mrs. Lazarus had told me. I made a mistake by telling him this and he showed up dead in the alley behind the bar the following day. Someone from the bar had called me before hand to tell me that some strange people had been looking for me at the bar, so I did not go to work that day. I received a strange phone call and all I could make out was “Go away as far as you can or you will die too.”

i wonder … how can sites and bloggers earn from their sites without selling anything or having any type of ad support ?

is this possible ?

if so, please share.

Http://www.8hours.com/blog