I certainly know where mine are.
In the toilet.
I suppose it’s a function of being offline for oh, say, three weeks off and on. Thanks to a unique combination of impecunity and historic windstorms in Vancouver, my apartment has been internetless for some time.
Naturally, I had to evacuate. I’m currently blogging from Ontario, which is, I admit, a little far to go, particularly since my neighborhood is dotted with free public computers; the problem is, of course, that these computer sources, being staffed by civil servants, aren’t open during the holidays or after four pm, which is when anyone really worthwhile really just gets going. Also, of course, I am in Ontario and not the Downtown EastSide now, so it would be really inconvenient for me to be using those computers, even supposing I could wake up early and everything.
But not to worry: Operation Global Media Domination will not be deterred by a momentary blip caused by the unique Perfect Blogstorm of the combination of the anniversary of the Birth of Jesus, the Windstorm of 2006, the Blight of Odeo, and the Great Internet Famine. Indeed, I’ve got a beaver shot coming that will be heard ’round the world, so stay tuned!
Refresh early, refresh often!
raincoaster 
My stats are way down too, and I haven’t had to contend with the issues you have. I think it has more to do with it’s just being holiday time and people are doing other things. Shame you’re in ON; I’m off to Van tomorrow.
I’m struggling at around 200 hits a day, down from 400. It has to be the Christmas thing. This is my first Blogmas and I am not only disappointed but flabberghasted at the fickleness of the fans. It seems that there are some people out there who actually leave their computer desk! How dare they! Surely it is Un-American or Un-Australian or even un-British! The EU needs to pass laws against it!
I think you guys are right. Seriously, I’m gonna have a word with this Jesus guy the first chance I get. I hear he’s eager to talk to me as well…
That’s the real reason I’m an atheist. The dude steals my hits something fierce. Perhaps we could negotiate some sort of power-sharing agreement. Of course I do have the advantage of being family, being a distanced Catholic and all.
Yeah, but you’re not allowed to talk to Jesus, and he’s not allowed to talk to you. You get to talk to the guy in the dress, and then he talks to Jesus, and then he comes back to you and says, “So Jesus told me to tell you…” I have my own share of Catholic men friends who wear dresses, and in my experience such gossip is not to be relied upon.
Why is it the transvestites get to talk with Jesus? I wouldn’t go out with one of them. Their fashion sense is – archaic!
True enough, but then, they DO have some spiffy hats!
Which reminds me to tell you about the fight I had with the trannie over my marabou stole…