There are some things I never expect to see. Regardless of how long I live, I would be unconditionally surprised if I saw a
person fly, water roar back up Niagara Falls or a good movie starring Colin Farrell. There are conditions that are so unlikely, circumstances that are so difficult to expect or justify that they are simply not to be anticipated – their absence is the status quo;
1. Pigs flying, and not with cherub wings, either. Pigs flying TIE-fighters!
2. Geraldo Rivera winning an argument.
3. A trout with the face of Hoagy Carmichael eating a copy of the 1993 United States Nutritional Guide for Senior Citizens.
4. Geraldo Rivera winning an argument where I’m on his side.
You can just imagine how conflicted I am over this. Geraldo is a pissant, a person of virtually no journalistic merit whose career has rolled steadily downhill since her got hit the face with a chair and wasted two hours of sweet, sweet network prime-time when he famously revealed the emptiness of Al Capone’s vault. An infected boil upon humanity’s under washed nether regions, Geraldo is an insufferable faux tough-guy relegated to the C-list on a faux news network (see what I did there?) who has the distinct dishonor of having been at the avante guard of an entirely new kind of really bad television.
There sure was a lot of French in that last sentence.
On the other hand, he schooled the exponentially more awful Bill O’Reilly on his own show under a set of circumstances where Bill could not just resort to his normal trick of turning off the other person’s microphone. Feel free to take a look for yourself;
I just don’t know how to feel about this.
Even my tired and predictable tack of stretching a metaphor beyond all mercy and common decency fails me. The only thing I can think of is when two good friends of mine got in an actual fistfight when we were all in university. If I take that moment and perform a precise inversion of my feelings…well, you get the idea.
Speaking of two blobs of useless flesh attached to a hollow, partisan framework, I am now forced to revisit the topic of Katherine Harris.
When I returned to blogging at the start of this year, my first post centered on former Congressbeing Katherine Harris and the prominence of her twin, front-facing, mammalian flesh lobes. I seem to recall that I made a few very erudite observations and successfully managed to get through the whole mess without writing the word nipple at all twice.
Back when I wrote that post, I thought that I would never need to make reference to it again. This proved not to be true, and I commented on it a few weeks later. What I lamented then has left me positively gobsmakced now.
The nice people at WordPress provide (even to us cheapo, free-service users) the ability to track what search engine terms have brought a visitor to our pages. In that time, I have noticed a trend and it is a disturbing trend to be sure.
On any given day, the search engine traffic will show that some demented souls came here only after typing “Katherine Harris Boobs”, “Katherine Harris Twins” or my personal favorite, “Boobs Find Katherine Harris’ Boobs”.
Now I know as well as anyone that that it can be hard to find porn on teh internets, and so a lot of people need to spend some time getting creative with their search terms in order to find pictures of properly oiled and bulbous flesh being gorged and plunged.
Having said that – have you really thought about this? Ick.
Having said that have, I thought about the search terms that I’m going to get after that last paragraph? Double ick.
It’s not like Katherine Harris is exactly the height of the female form. I guess that as far as fifty-something whack job ex-Congresspeople turned lobbyists from Florida go, she’s pretty hot. Regardless, this should really only attract a fetish audience — the kind of people who fantasize about getting freaky with their dad’s busty tax accountant or wrapping their faces in foot-stink nylons while they…
I’ve said too much.
Just to spread the love around, I think I should point out that Chef Christine Cushing has also had her breasts googled (tee hee!) several times by people who then visited me here. I can see some sense in that at least; at bare (ha!) minimum we already know that Christine Cushing can cook.
While I won’t go into it, I will also note one other search term I got and just leave it up to you; “Bill Bixby Kindling Axe”.
Voting Kills…
We’ll cleanse the collective palette on an entirely unrelated note; I’d like to congratulate my pal Matt from Culture Kills… for getting nominated not once but twice for the Blogger’s Choice Awards. Matt, who writes as fine a blog as any I’ve read, has been nominated in the categories of Best Entertainment Blog and Best Pop Culture Blog. He’s an awfully decent guy who does this stuff very, very well – give him a read and then vote for him.
The fact that I’m still not in his blogroll should in no way affect your decision…
Listed on humor-blogs.com
6 Comments
11 April , 2007 at 2:19 am
You are on my blogroll now. Dreadful oversight that.
And watching Geraldo and Bill O’Reilly going at it was like watching the video for Two Tribes
11 April , 2007 at 5:18 pm
“Speaking of two blobs of useless flesh attached to a hollow, partisan framework, I am now forced to revisit the topic of Katherine Harris.”
Best line of the week.
I’m not surprised you are getting those sorts of search results. The #1 search term for people landing on my blog is “nudies” – which leads to my obituary of a weatherman. Talk about disappointment! Miraculously, I’m still the #1 google blogsearch result for that puerile term.
More in line with your font of titilation re. Ms. Harris, I also get a lot of hits for “helena guergis is hot”. Shudder. I’m only #2 on that search, but I guess I’ll take my traffic any way I can get it.
Actually, I’m tempted to publish the IPs and locations of those who come to my site through such silly searches. It’d amuse me, in a vindictive way, like writing on the sidewalk the license plates of people who pick up cheap hookers.
Seeing as how I’m rambling, I’ll tell you my unfulfilled dream for embarassing the lewd. Back in university, the local watering hole had a washroom equipped with a condom machine, which had been retrofitted to dispense a certain ring-like device intended to please the ladies. They cost $1, but the machine was empty (I know this how?) And of course nobody had the nerve to go up to the bar and ask for their money back. Great scam!
But I could do better. If I owned the bar, I’d hook up one of those spinning red police lights right over the entrance to the loo, and it would be activated whenever someone tried to buy said ring-like device. I can picture the bar erupting in applause when the bewildered perv exited the washroom.
Maybe when I inherit my pub in Roydon…
11 April , 2007 at 5:52 pm
Not only do I need to thank you for the compliment, but you obviously deserve an award for the longest comment ever posted here.
I salute you – and let me know when you open that pub – I’m moving in.
11 April , 2007 at 6:17 pm
I can well understand your conflicted soul which resulted from the Rivera, O’Reilly debate. My father, who was not a well educated man, would have summed up those two thusly: They’d give a dog’s arse heartburn.
Mike
12 April , 2007 at 9:02 am
You sir,are my hero.
16 April , 2007 at 1:47 pm
Nice blog!