Question: Is she so desperate for material that she’s doing another weird searches post?

Answer: Yes. Yes, she is. I is. Whatever.

So, yeah, the words underlined below are the actual search words some unlucky bastards typed into their search bars only to find my site. My responses immediately follow the search words.

lonely fat and horny

Don’t use this on your resume, but hey we’ve all been there. When I was lonely, fat and horny, I tended to add drunkenness into the mix whenever possible. I found it took the edge off the other three maladies quite nicely.

And, when you’re lonely, fat, horny and drunk, you’ll feel the world is your oyster – that is, until the thought of oysters in general makes you puke up all that tequila you swigged down like it was fucking Kool-aid. What the fuck was I…were you thinking?

piss in shoe

Was that your shoe? I’m shorry. Couldn’t help it. Drunk too mush tequila. Got a mint? Thank you very mush. Wanna see my etshings? No? You sure? Ok, I’m pulling my pants back up now.

answer me great oracle

Loose lips sink ships.

photos of bored mussels

The last time I threw a party the Mollusks left early using a lame excuse about having to filter silt early the next morning, but at least I got a picture before they rushed off.

sour gnats

We of the open mouth clan do tend to have the problem of unintentionally swallowing more than our share of bugs but, damn, if you’re eating enough of them to do taste comparisons, maybe you should consider shutting up for a minute or two. Just a suggestion.

potato booty

Prepare to be boarded! We are commandeering this Ore Ida vessel. If ye desireth to live, ye had best tell Cap’n Morgan where ye keepest the french fries. Arr.

what is a pair of tens called?

It’s called – drumroll please – a pair of tens. *faint clash of cymbals*

Thanks for coming out, folks. I’ll be here all week.

veet hair removal hurts your legs

See my choir robe? Turn and face the congregation, sister.

how to wipe your ass

Uh, not to be rude, but if you’re old enough to read, you’re getting this lesson kinda late.

That’s all I’ve got for you today. But, I’ll leave you with the immortal words of Cher:

“This is a song for the lonely (and fat and horny), can you hear me callin’ you?”

My kid can get breakfast at school when she wants to. This is good news for us on days like today when the three – count ‘em three – donuts she ate before she left the house weren’t enough to fill her up.

Soon the only way we’ll be able to afford to feed her will be to drag her to various all you can eat buffets.

What’s more, I fear the resulting onslaught of a significant growth spurt. Has everyone seen Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman? Yeah, like that.

I wrote the beginning of a mystery novel in my sleep last night. The only thing left to do is to write the middle and the end of it, and then I’m home free.

Me – Do you have a minute to listen to this story?

Bill – You have about ten minutes.

Me – Yeah, I know I can’t go over ten minutes – the last episode of “Friends” is on tonight.

Bill – So you have till that starts.

Me – I’ll talk fast.

Today I put off writing by mowing the lawn. This is frequently not the case. In fact, I have been known far more often to put off mowing the lawn by writing a long-winded rant about Easy Cheese or whatever other silly thing comes to mind.

Now, obviously, if you are one of my neighbors, you’d like me to mow the lawn before it resembles a corn field, whereas if you are one of my regular readers, you’d probably prefer that I update my frickin’ blog more than once a month.

And, I guess I piss off just about everybody when I put off both writing and mowing the lawn by doing the laundry.

But, tell me, does my being a link-whore inspire you to forgive me for my sporadic and frequently unsubstantial blog updates? Gee, I hope so.

As to my finding forgiveness for putting off the yard work, I may be forced to be more hands on in my show of contrition:

“I’m sorry my lawn looks like shit today, Mr Jones, but could I interest you in a hand job? My husband says I’m very good. No? Well, is there anything I could do for the wife? I’m open minded and I do feel pretty bad about the number of weeds. Yes, I’ve been using that weed killer you recommended with no luck…”

Nah, I suppose it’d be easier to mow than get into all that mess. Once you start offering hand jobs to the neighbor men, they begin hanging around the door like stray cats, and I won’t go down that road again – no matter how much I hate doing yard work.

PS – Ren, I’m still banned, you spam-reducing bitch. Don’t make me come all the way to Australia to kick your ass…Wait, do you still have that big sword? You do? Um, well, what I meant was that it would sure be nice if I were allowed to post comments on your site again…

Michael overheard a guy say this, and quoted it to me:

“I think homos are the most disgusting, vile creatures on the planet, but they should have exactly the same rights I have.”

As ugly as that sounds, my husband and I both found it hopeful that someone with such obvious hatred for another group could at least see that it’s not reasonable to discriminate against them.

I spent some time thinking about that man today. What he said stayed with me.

On the surface, his words are incredibly harsh, but when I look deeper, I find some beauty there.

He’s offering someone he openly hates the same rights he has.

Wouldn’t we all be better off if more of us could do that? Put aside personal feelings and freely offer that kind of equality to each other?

For my money, give me a thousand guys like that in exchange for even one hypocritical asshole who preaches “Love thy neighbor” and in the very same breath makes an effort to touch the lives of his fellow men in a negative way.

Until we can live completely without hate, I’ll settle for equal rights.