August 15, 2013
Some people are freaks, you guys. FREAKS. This is nothing new. Since the beginning of time it hath been so. <<< That sounded really beginning of timey, right? Just like present day people, olden timey people did some pretty weird stuff . Although we have many stories of it, we just don’t have the pictures to really make the freakiness pop. Back then there was no internet, Twitter, Facebook, e-mail, cameras, or smartphones with which to show the world your true colors quite so easily. Back in the days of yore if you let your freak flag fly, not as many people would see it because chances are high that you probably lived infinity miles from any other people. You could fly that flag on your roof for years, and even if someone did happen to see it, by the time they found anyone to tell they’d probably forget about it. Even if they did tell someone, they probably wouldn’t believe them because they’d have no proof.
Now that we have all this technology we have instant gratification, instant stupidity, and instant freakiness. Nowadays you might have a few drinks and decide that everyone in your contact list needs to have a picture of your penis right this very minute and boom, you can have that baby sent out in less than 10 seconds. By the time you realize that 300 friends, co-workers, your boss, and your Grandma Myrtle don’t really want or need a photo of your junk, you’ve already been fired and Grandma Myrtle has taken you out of her will and gone into cardiac arrest.
Back in the olden days, if you’d had one too many drinks and decided that everyone you had ever met needed to see your wang, that could take years. First you’d have to find yourself a good portrait artist who was willing to paint wieners. Then you’d have to get them to paint 300 copies. Then you’d have to purchase and train some carrier pigeons to deliver all of those weenie paintings to everyone. Eleventy hundred billion shillings and many years later, you’re poor, your house is covered in pigeon poop, and you still don’t know what everyone thought about your weiner. Seriously, being a pervert was quite a production.
I love my instant gratification as much as anyone, but there are times that I wish I hadn’t sent something I sent or googled something I googled. What’s been sent can’t be unsent and what’s been googled can’t ever be erased from your mind (2 girls, one cup and a little thing called assmilk are two). The good thing about the good old days was that you had plenty of time to re-think your stupid ideas. By the time the wiener portraitist blended the perfect shade of wiener skin paint you might say “What the hell was I thinking?” and call the whole plan off. And if you were sitting around your house being bored one day you’d probably read a book, churn some butter, or use one of those loom things to make something out of sheep hair instead of getting out your laptop and googling “donkey midget sex romp.”
People are weird, and they google some strange and creepy stuff. We all do it. I don’t know one person who wouldn’t go into a panic if the FBI showed up to go through their search history. But one of the interesting perks of having a blog is that you can see the things that people are googling that lead them to your blog. Sometimes it’s something that makes sense. Like if someone googles “Mom-Brain,” “Patti Blog,” “Hump Norman Reedus,” or “crazy woman who hates spiders,” of course those are gonna lead them to my blog. But 9 times outta 10 I read the search terms and I’m all WTF??? WHY DID GOOGLE BRING YOU TO HERE??? And then I drink a 6-pack of beer and collapse on my kitchen floor in the fetal position wondering what the heck is wrong with people and wondering if any of them are in my neighborhood.
Basically this is my long-winded way of telling you that I have in my possession a very long and strange list of things that people have googled, and I’m going to share a few of them with you. Most of the search terms are waaaaaayyyyyyyy too disgusting to post on my blog, so why Google linked them to me, I have no idea. Google obviously thinks that my site has porn and/or I need to be murdered. Why else would they send me the freak that googled “I want to eat a chinese food delivery man?” That was AWESOME of you, Google. I am SUPER stoked to have this person perusing my photos and stories. Why WOULDN’T I be? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG???
Here is a VERY Partial List (with a bit of my amazingly useless commentary):
bottomless sitting hairy (I guess he/she is hairy and likes to sit on things sans pants?)
I don’t drink gatorade I just swish it around (Sounds like a wine tasting. But with a sports drink that tastes like ass. Savor that ass, weirdo.)
2 roaches kissing (I gotta admit, I’m intrigued.)
people sticking their hands down their pants (If you wanna see that just look at every man, every evening, on every couch in America.)
im havin surgety tomm can i drink couple beers (Seems like you already did.)
i wore a diaper to pee (I assume a baby didn’t write this unless it’s a genius baby in which case it would use a toilet, so it must be an old person. Or one of those crazy chicks who drives across country to try to kill someone. Please God don’t let it be me!)
i want to stuff my pants (With what? As long as it’s not alive and doesn’t have sharp edges then go on with your bad self.)
sharpie in the pooper (Are you the same person from the last search? Wow. You escalated from stuffing things into your pants to stuffing them in orifices pretty quickly. And I must say, your choice of a Sharpie is very interesting, but listen: If you’re just gonna stick it in your pooper don’t spring for a Sharpie. Save some money and buy generic. Your pooper won’t know the difference. So far as I know, poppers can’t read. But maybe yours can write and that’s why you want to give it a sharpie? Oh my GOD, that would be amazing. I hope it writes poetry. “Poetry from the Pooper” has a certain ring to it.)
spongebob vagina painting (Spongebob painted a picture of a vagina? I guess I missed that episode. DAMMIT!)
I want to hump things when I need to pee (I want to hump things all the time. I win.)
dirty pictures of the pillsbury dough boy (Ask my friend Rachael. She probably has some. I think they hooked up after this photo was taken.)
you best get yo ass in the kitchen and bake me a cake (You best protect yo balls cuz you about to get kicked in them.)
you are the reason I crap my pants (That should TOTALLY be on a Hallmark card.)
she’s 57 and something keeps falling outta her vagina what is it (It’s her uterus. Seriously. It’s her uterus. Read about it HERE.)
I had sex with a white trash zombie (I hope you used protection. Take it from me, zombie babies are a lot of work.)
will I go to hell if I wear pantyhose (Yes.)
Butthole wearing tennis shoes (Like, the actual butthole? It has shoes on it? I’d totally like to see that. Your butthole is quite sporty! Mine is more of a beach bum and prefers thongs.)
you’re home alone and smell a fart that isn’t yours (You have gassy ghost on your hands. Either that or you’re in denial about your own fartiness.)
Frasier Hallmark butt whore (Does this involve Kelsey Grammer? Does it involve cards? Who is the butt whore? Is is Frasier? Is he gay? WHAT IS GOING ON WITH FRASIER? Is Niles in any way involved? What about Eddie the dog? I guess I’m gonna have to google it.)
And the cycle continues…
5 Responses to “People are freaks. I may or may not be one of them, but that’s beside the point.”
Leave a Comment
Don't have a Gravatar? (the small photo that shows up when you make a comment). Get one here, it's FREE: Sign up for a free Gravatar