Seeing as how I’m aware that many of my interests are categorically eccentric, and that I know my writing reflects this, it shouldn’t shock me that I have some pretty idiosyncratic readers. Yet I must admit I felt a tad surprised today when I glanced at the list of search terms people are using to wind up at my blog. Brace yourself, because this is splendid:
Top Searches
unicorn horn, freakish animals, ladybug smashed by a hammer, cloris leachman breasts
Unicorn horn, freakish animals, and the sweet rack on a sexy silver fox, sure; I understand your deep desire to read about such fine, high-brow topics. You’ve come to the right place. Welcome home, friend.
But…ladybug smashed by a hammer? Who goes online to engage in discussions regarding violence against ladybugs?! What’s that? You’d like to direct my attention to Anxiety Activator #61? Fine, I’m not exactly the Ceasar Milan of the insect world, but it’s not like I’m advoacting decapitation via wrench.
I can’t even tell you how much I would pay for video of this person, this angry man with his axe to grind against ladybugs, hunched over his ancient computer in his grandmother’s basement, the dangling overhead lightbulb casting shadows about his deep scowl as he punches open a browser, rubs his palms together, and pounds the enter key on his search. Hurry up, google! I imagine him growling at his monitor. Show me a ladybug smashed by a hammer! I gotta see that right now! Not a taracnhula; don’t show me a fucking tape worm. It has to be a ladybug and it has to be murdered with a hammer!
He waits, ever so patiently, his excitement growing like the number of governemnt watchlists on which his name appears. Just when he’s about to lose his mind from anticipation, he lands here, where there is no video and no writing, not even a song lyric, about this one thing in life he so desperaltey seeks. Well, you know what? I’m sorry, Bob the Beheader, but you are just going to have to calm down and step away from the toolbox. Let the ladybug fly to safety. She’s not trying to hurt you, though, if experience has taught me anything, she may be thirsty for a little sip of your nipple nectar. Go on, give her a taste. Then, when you’re done with that, click here to read about some freakish animals and/or here for Cloris Leachman’s breasts. I have a feeling that may be exactly what you need. That and a good therapist.
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Search terms are always amusing. Try adding four ladies to the blogging mix and you can imagine the types of terms we come up with – haha.
Thx so much for visiting, Kristy! I love WheresMyDamnAnswer.com!