It’s 2018! Holy shit, we’re more than halfway through the first quarter of the 21st century! Time is just flying, and—it must be said—some of you are getting old.
Not me, of course, but some of you. Which is weird for me to watch, but I’m trying to be gracious about it. Me, I just throw things at Offspring when I’m blaring Aerosmith (kitchen cleanup goes so much nicer with a classic rock playlist—try it!) and he says, “This is Nirvanna, right?” Then he says we wouldn’t have this argument if I’d listen to music less than 150 years old, and I remind him who taught him to love Meatloaf and Bon Jovi and we agree to a truce because it’s not possible to keep fighting while you’re belting out Living on a Prayer.
Where were we? Riiiight… 2018. which means that 2017 is officially behind us—yay!
And that means… drumroll… It’s time for me to pile together all those weird and wonderful search terms people used to find my humble little humor blog (I have to mention, periodically, that it is a humor blog, because that’s the only way WordPress knows; apparently you have to use the keyword, because having a humor blog is just like having a yoga blog—you use the word a lot, and that’s what your blog is about. Humor. Funny.) Actually, I sorted them into an Excel list, and then picked through the rubbish for the humor gold, but you get the idea. Here then are my favorite ways people found us last year. Starting with the most popular Google result:
- Actual conversations with my husband.
Well done you! You knew what you were looking for and you found me—I hope—straightaway. The system works! Not sure if I should ask you to just bookmark it or subscribe or whatever, or if your continued googling of my exact blog name is somehow good for me. See also the people who google the exact url of a particular post; can someone who knows something about this stuff tell me how to feel here? Also, I promise this is the last boring one… I just had questions.
Yes, really. I’m… confused? First off, who the hell is googling amazon? Were you looking for information on THE Amazon, as in the rainforest? Because if you don’t include the the, Google gets confused and assumes you mean the megacorp that sells books and George Foreman grills and vibrators. Which… okay, I just googled “amazon” and came up with a whole page of just amazon’s various links, then several pages of articles about amazon. How deep did you dig to find my post about the pussy pump? Oh no, no, no! It wasn’t just that, was it? Nope! This was the second most popular result (excepting “unknown search results,” which still appears at the top of the list because Google hates me. Probably because I hate them right back.) What the hell, people?
You know what I think? I think these people googled “amazon” so many times that Google finally had enough of their shit and was like, “you know what? This lady returns vibrators—go hang with her.”
I’m surprisingly okay with that referral system.
- What are waits me and my husband in 2017?
Sorry, I missed this one when it would have been relevant. Also, I am not psychic and can’t tell you how your 2018 is going to go either… but I hope you’ll take up reading as a hobby and your grasp of the language will improve as a result.
- Story of a woman being fucked by a stranger.
That’s… not a story you’ll find on my blog. I just checked. I could tell that story, if you’re really interested, but it’s not one I’m proud of. It got weird, and he didn’t leave the country when he said he was going to… and he turned out to be a competitive yo-yoer. Yes, that’s a thing. I told you I wasn’t proud!
- How to color jerkface page 49 fuck off I’m coloring.
Hey, you came to me. Now fuck off, because I’ve got to finish this list so I can get back to my awesome coloring book.*
- Husband wants me to get Botox.
Tell him to fuck right off, because your face (or armpits or feet or whatever) is on your body and that shit belongs to you. Also, have him read the thing I hope you found, because everyone should know what can happen. If you do get Botox, I hope it goes well and you do it for all the right reasons for you.
- What kind of knife sincere things can I write in a birthday card to my husband
Sorry, I’m hung up on your use of the word knife; have you considered just drawing a bread knife in there? I mean, steak knives and daggers are sort of trite, but a bread knife shows you care—and that you’re willing to make him a sammich if he doesn’t like the card! If that’s not sincere enough for you, please consider enclosing an actual knife with the card—a Swiss army job, or one of those little cocktail swords should fit nicely.
- Stranger adventure blow job
See #4. Also, I’m sorry. You must have been really disappointed with this blog.
- Why I disturb my husband
Because you put knives in his birthday card, maybe?
- Fucking behind my husband’s back
Either he’s a medical anomaly or you’re talking about cheating. I’m going to pretend it’s the first thing, because that’s funnier to me.
So your husband’s penis is located at the base of his spine: not to worry, this can actually be a lot of fun! Think about it: his head will make an excellent book stand in case you need… inspiration, you can both watch Netflix even when you’re on top, and you can fuck in positions the rest of us can’t even imagine. You’re living the dream! I mean, not my dream… but I’ll bet if you connect with googlers #4 and #8, you’ll find you’re living their dream, and that’s something!
Jesus, can we get off the sex stuff now? Please?
- Husband loves fuzzy socks
Your husband and I have that in common; he is clearly a man of refined taste and excellent judgment. I don’t see the problem.
- Husband called me fat in an argument
Call him a cab. He can pack his own fuckin’ bag.
Seriously, there’s fighting dirty and there’s begging for a divorce. That shit right there crosses the line. If your partner finds you unfuckable because of your weight or your appearance (see Botox shit above) or personal hygiene reasons or whatever, that’s the sort of thing you bring up gently, not while fighting, and in front of a qualified therapist. Or you get a lawyer and sort it that way. You dredge it up in a fight only because you’ve chosen to be a raging dick and I already hate you.
- Pee drinking hubby
You know what? Here. YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME.
- As a stranger pees on me
Right. I’ve had just about enough of this.
You know what bugs me about this one? What—and I’m going to get some questionable results for this turn of phrase, mark my words—chaps my ass? I saw when this one started to come through, and was so confused I plugged this phrase into the offending search engine. I WAS THE THIRD RESULT. I came in above the porn. I’ve since fallen in the rankings, but that whole week I was afraid to leave the house. (At opposed to all the other times, when I wear yoga pants and refuse to leave the house because I’d have to put on real pants and a bra.)
And I haven’t even told you about the time Husband’s attempt to ask for dirctions in Budapest went very, very wrong…
- My husband is a pussy
So it’s going to be that sort of day, is it? Fine, let’s talk pussy. Pussies are amazing. They take a beating like no other body part and bounce back like fucking Robert Downey Junior (hotter, better, and with a whole new skill set.) If you’re married to someone who is as sensitive, flexible, versatile and tough as a vagina, you are one lucky individual. Plus, you know…
If, on the other hand, you meant to say that your man is weak, that he doesn’t meet your expectations of dudeliness, that he is a wimp… I’m sorry? You should for sure talk to him about that. Gently, but firmly. I promise, he can take it. After all… he’s a pussy.
- Peeing on husband
I’m sensing a trend here. Clearly, my blog has become less about my life with a nutty enginerd who says (and does) stupid things and more about the weird sex stuff y’all want to talk about. Otherwise, why would Google keep sending you here?
Sorry, I’ve never peed on my husband. He only pees on strangers, and only when he’s drunk, and only while at sea. If that really revs your engine, here’s that story. Bookmark it, print it out, share it with friends and tell everyone I’m a great one-handed read. Fuck if I care anymore.
- A humor tale in a commujnist country
I’m so happy to actually have what someone was looking for, I’m going to completely overlook the fact that you misspelled communist. In fact, I’m choosing to be extra-happy that Google connected us in spite of the misspelling! Yes, I do indeed have humorous stories that take place near a communist country, and one about my husband accidentally invading one. Glad to be of service!
- Knock me up before my husband does
Who did you think you were going to find—on Google—to fulfill this request?
Bitch, this is what Craigslist is for.
But fine, whatever, you found me. And I am not qualified to knock you up. Neither is Husband. We’ve both taken precautions, because babies are expensive and messy and smelly and gross. So I hope you found some other stuff to keep you entertained, or at least the backbone to tell your man that you don’t want to bear his crotchfruit, because I probably live too far away to help you anyway. But, on the off chance that your womb is still unoccupied and you’re in danger of bearing a legitimate fuck trophy instead of the bastard of your dreams, I hope you find this post and learn about Craigslist. Craigslist!
- Pussy joke
What’s the difference between parsley and pussy?
Nobody eats parsley.
- Morning after cuckold conversation
Ah. So your penis is not located at the base of your spine, then? Bummer. We were all so excited to learn more about you. Best of luck with that difficult conversation—let me know how it turns out, eh?
- Insert pussy
That’s not how they work. Look, I don’t often suggest this but… I think you need to watch more porn.
- Mac and cheese donut recipe
Oh, did I forget to post that? I thought I explained pretty well, between the video and my notes… Look, you just make whatever boxed mac & cheese thrills you deep down, adding some flour to the cheese so it gets more… you know, moldable? Then you plonk that into your mini Bundt pans (or donut molds, if you’re one of those people) and freeze it. Then do your standard egg and breadcrumb business, adding Cheetos if you’re awesomeing as hard as I do, then fry dat shit up. Bake ‘em to finish the inside, then eat in shame-glazed delight. Because you’re a goddamned grown-up, and nobody can stop you.
- Blanket for corpse
Wow… the conversation went that bad, did it?
Okay, don’t panic. First thing: a blanket won’t help you. Take it from me, you’re just going to end up with a smelly blanket. What you need is a drop cloth. If you didn’t have the foresight to do your murdering over 6 mil plastic, look around for a handy throw rug. In the absence of a throw rug, take your box cutter or knife (check your birthday card, I think she put one in there) and pull up a bit of the carpet at the edge of the room you’re standing in. If you’re lucky, there’s beautiful hardwood underneath and you can roll up the bodies in that nasty ol’ carpet; no one will even question why you’re hauling it out. Problem solved!
And that’s it—those were my picks from the 2017 search terms. Which, in hindsight, I probably should have been reviewing and sharing along the way, because I had to leave a lot out for the sake of brevity. As it is, this post is more than double my preferred word count. Maybe this year I’ll try doing them quarterly? I know I don’t have enough good material to go monthly yet… maybe we could start a campaign to google weird shit and see how far down in your search results I turn up?
People who know more about Internet Things than I do, please verify this is a great idea.
* Yep, that’s an example of an affiliate link. As previously stated, I’d like to get rid of the ads someday, but that costs money and we have a rule in this house that I can’t spend more on the blog than I already do unless it’s bringing in some cash. Plus, you should really go buy all of Jenny Lawson’s books anyway.