I can’t remember which story it was, but not long after I started blogging I posted something that somehow wound up on Wikifeet. You’d be amazed at how many people read the thing because it was linked to on Wikifeet. So many, in fact, that I pulled the story. Not much creeps me out, I suppose, but having a large following on Wikifeet did. I don’t think it was Wikifeet readers themselves. I mean they just really, really like feet. It was the idea that I might be considered one of them. I mean I like pretty feet as much as the next guy, I suppose. Just not as much as some guys. Some guys really like feet.
I’d forgotten this till I woke up just now in front of the TV after several hours of slumber to find myself in the middle of Kansas City Confidential. There was John Payne, sweating and scared. There was Lee Van Cleef acting tough. There was Neville Brand, giggling like Tommy Udo. And there was the girl, Coleen Gray, very striking but I couldn’t place her. I googled her name. Turns out she died just this year, aged 92. There were lots of publicity photos. Some of them were off of Wikifeet. Seems that some people look at a cheesecake photo of a movie moll in a bathing suit and all they see are the feet. You wonder just who these guys are. If you can tell them by their gaze in a crowded night club. Follow their gaze as the girls walk by. Some guys would see the color of their eyes. Some guys would watch the way they move. The Wikifeet guys find the loose change on the floor.
You never even heard of Wikifeet, I know. Actually neither had I, until I wrote something about feet. I wrote something about feet like I would have written something about hands or knees or thumbs. But there is no wikihands or wikiknees or wikithumbs that I know of. Maybe I haven’t written the right piece.
When I post this to my blog it will key word Wikifeet, and all the feet guys will be disappointed when they get here. They might even be miffed. Imagine a foot guy, miffed. Imagine too, that if I died right now, the last words I would have ever written would be a foot guy, miffed.
Fortunately I didn’t.