I can't stay out of my blog's stat pages. It's like when you chip a little piece off of your tooth because you crunched an ice cube even though your mom told you never to crunch ice cubes because they could break your teeth, and your tongue keeps going there so you can tell yourself that it's not a very big chip, really, and that nobody can see it, but you can feel that little edge where the enamel has gone bye-bye. Except that my mom never told me not to check my blog stats because they would most likely be full of bizarre search terms that would puzzle me, like when a dog hears a person fart, though of course not Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, and the dog tilts his head and stares because every canine knows that reorienting his brain at a 45-degree angle will lead to greater understanding.
Here's what I've gotten this month:
hillbilly hoes-I'm sure this is all about farm implements, and not at all indicative of my man-pleasing proclivities.
hillbilly tits-maybe I need to re-evaluate my take on the hoes
hillbilly underwear-apparently, I need to invest in more supportive foundation garments
brownhole-for the love of Gummi Mary, what is the world coming to when such a term leads folks to my Mansion?
apocalypse mansion-there's my answer
carnage und woman-sprechen sie English, you unfair accuser of mass slaughter? Women don't massacre large numbers of people; men massacre large numbers of people!
odd linch pins-some folks have even linch pins, some folks have ordinary linch pins, some folks have complete, organized collections of linch pins, but only Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has odd linch pins.
grandma's house needs to be emptied-let's be careful not to throw grandma out with the linch pins.
chexmix conspiracy-guilty as charged. Wouldn't you like to know my secret recipe? Bwah, ha ha!
calling girlfriend baby creepy-I would never call my girlfriend's baby creepy
fat cart riders in walmart-talk about creepy...
gary busey robe opens-EEEEE! My eyes! Quick! I need a fat cart rider to take me away.
i am part of the problem-no I'm not. I'm rubber, you're glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.
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4 comments:
I suppose it is really a good thing I don't know how to do this.
Kathy,
I'm going to explain it to you. But whatever you do, DON'T LOOK!
When you go to post, click on that little file folder tab dealybobber at the top of the page, the one that says STATS.
Beside TRAFFIC SOURCES, click MORE. Scroll down, and voila! You have your very own perverted terms people searched for and were directed to your blog.
You're welcome. Just DON'T LOOK.
Oh my word. I totally did not know how to do this and now I have to go try. The excitement made me sound like a valley girl for a minute there. Like, I'm sorry.
lyssa,
At least you didn't gag yourself with a spoon.
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