Monthly Archives: May 2012

The First Semiannual Search Terms Review

Raise your hand if you have a blog.  Now keep it in the air if you love to look at the search terms that landed people on said blog.  Wave it back and forth over your head à la that annoying geek in trig class if someone has ever Googled “Smurf Fetish” and ended up on your blog.

My hand is waving like a smoker watching Poison do “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” during a 1988 concert.  Don’t worry if yours is not–I didn’t say Simon Says, anyway.

One of my favorite things to do when checking out my blog stats, is to see what crazy searches resulted in people stopping by my little online hole-in-the-wall.

And speaking of holes in the walls, yes, the phrase “glory hole Coachella” resulted in a visit to my humble site not too long ago.  Oh, to be a fly on that wall.  I bet there were many.

Some of these search terms thrill me to death in a twisted sort of way–such searches as, “Why is necrophilia seen as so wrong?” and “Erotic Horror Stranglings,” for instance.  “Beast necrophilia” and “necrophilia how?” give me a moment of pause, as does “Strangling Woman in boots.”  Just things that make you go hmmm…

And then there are the ones that leave me downright confounded, like “hemero wizard of oz,” and “men anal blow jobs how to give.”  Hemero means day, so is there a national Wizard of Oz Day I’m unaware of?  Not that it’s a bad idea.  I mean, if it comes down to a vote, I say yea.  I’m dying to see a horse of a different color and to try to get a five-finger-discount on a new broom stick.  Incidentally, if anyone out there knows how to give men anal blow jobs, I’d appreciate a diagram just in case I’m missing something.

I’m always looking for new acts to add to my repertoire.

“I love sex” and “cock lust” searches tickle me pink and warm the subcockles of my heart.  And I want to meet the person who Bings “Watch sextraterrestrials porn.”  I think we’d get along just smurfily.  I’ll even bring the popcorn, but also a blanket because I don’t want to sit directly on your couch for our movie night.  Sorry.  It’s not you, it’s me.

Other searches, unfortunately, leave me feeling inadequate.  I mean, when someone looks for “Matthew Bomer Erotica,” and my site doesn’t deliver, I feel like I’m letting my readers down.  Oddly, nearly every piece of erotica I write lately seems to have a guy who looks just like Matthew Bomer, but I’ve never flat-out said so on my blog before.  Weird.

And regarding making most of my studs clones of The Bomer, who can blame me?  He’s delicious.  Anyway, I am now on an intense search for Bomer erotic fan-fiction.  I do this for my followers and, well, let’s just say I feel obligated to hunt some down and preview it multiple times.

When I saw that a gentle reader searched high and low for “How big is Anthony Kiedis‘ penis?” I was heartbroken to know that I had disappointed him or her.  Until I can get Anthony’s digits (and believe me, I will try), might I suggest checking out the old-school sock performance, just to get a rough idea?

And then there was “the twilight saga film series awards” search, to which I politely say, “WTF????”

Finally, I leave you with the question “What movies Vale Kimber star in?”  I can only surmise that someone else surmises I’m a porn star.  Aficionado, maybe.  Fan?  Certainly.  But, the closest I ever came to making a sex movie was contemplating stripping in college.  And possibly some nonconsensual photos during a drunken screw of the same era.  And maybe the security camera that always seemed to be trained outside my dorm room window picked up something I was never mailed a copy of.

I pulled my blinds most of the time, I swear.

But anyway, no.  As much fun as it probably would be to reign as porn queen, I’m afraid I cannot accept this award.  But to all of my fans out there, I say thanks for your support!  I couldn’t be where I am right now without you!

Or maybe I could…

Where the hell am I, anyway?  Hey, who’s that man behind the curtain?!  Please excuse me.  I’m off to go grab his broomstick and possibly give him an anal blow job.

I Think I’ll Beat My Dirty Laundry Down by the River

Now why does that title make me think of Chris Farley?  This is a rather random post to detail my cosmic fucking of two days ago when I tried to simply purchase a new washing machine online.

[Throat Clearing–to be dramatic and also because I have a cold]

To begin this post, I’ll take it from the top and recommend that no one ever purchase a Kenmore Oasis Washing machine from Sears (or ANYTHING from Sears, for that matter).  That tremendous, hulking POS has been limping along for the five years since we purchased it.  And that is even after we paid to install a brand new mother (fucker) board exactly one day (give or take) after the one year warranty expired.

So, after that metal turd refused to turn off the other day (related to some imaginary suds it couldn’t seem to rinse off) and it smelled of burning plastic, we finally decided it was time.  That was Thursday.  On Saturday, my old man was stressing about life, in general, and the ginormous to-do list he had, in particular.  I, being the kind-hearted person that I am (and also one who didn’t want to hear his shit) decided to handle the washing machine purchase all on my own.

Now, hubby’s pal had given him a 10% off coupon to Lowe’s, so we had determined that we would buy one from there.  Basically, anything but Sears was the plan, but the price was right…

And I was going to do it online because that’s how I shop.  No lines.  No annoying sales people.  No dragging kids with…you get my drift.  That’s how I roll.

So, I hop online and read reviews and pick a machine without too much searching.  Hell, I hemmed and hawed and scouted for days for the last hunk of junk–the seat of my pants seemed the way to go, here.  Kinda like going with your first gut instinct on a test question you’re unsure about.  It’s usually right, right?

Anyway, I instant message a customer service person to ensure that the delivery guys will take the smoking crap-box from Sears.  The uber-polite Wesley I contacted told me they would.  And would I like him to call in the order for me?  No, thanks, I say.  I want to shop around a little.

After a bit more surfing, I threw a front door lock and handle in my cart (since we could use a new one).  It was sort of like grabbing a pack of gum when you’re checking out at the grocery store.  Sure, I could use one of those.  It’s on sale with my coupon and dammit, gum is delicious.

Well, I had nearly placed my order when I was disturbed by a cranky husband.  I got up to slam some dishes around (always good to be by the butcher-block when you want to look threatening).  After I did about ten minutes of random angry cleaning, I realized I must complete that order so we can soon wash some of our laundry that is threatening to take over the world.

I go to complete the process.

The website informs me, in effect, that even home maintenance sites need work on occasion…ha ha, so clever.  Try again later, sucker!

Fuck me!

But, all isn’t lost.  I put the two items in my cart again and try to check out.  The website tells me that the store I originally chose no longer has my washer and I must pick another location.  Fine.  I do that.  Check out once more and this time, SUCCESS!

Hell, yeah!  That felt good.  So I go to my email account to make sure I got a receipt, and lo and behold I find not one, but two receipts.

Fuck me again!

I call customer service.  Thankfully, I don’t wait too long on hold.  The lovely Southern drawl-rockin’ lady listens to my problem and kindly cancels the second order.  While I’m talking to her my phone beeps and it’s the first store.  Calling to confirm, I’m sure, as I was told they would.  I don’t click over, of course.  I listen to the message after I’m done straightening this cluster-fuck up with Scarlet O’Hara.

Here is the message: “This is the B_____Lowe’s calling to inform you that we only have two display models of the washer you ordered, so we can’t send you one.  You’ll have to order from the W_______Lowe’s.”

Now I’m starting to lose it just a little.  I may have shouted some expletives (at a safe distance from my children’s ears, of course).  I just cancelled an order from the freakin’ W Lowe’s!

I call the woman back and she tells me that online shopping is not always the best bet.  Chuckle.  Sorry!  Also, she cancelled the order from her end.

Back on the ever-lovin’ Lowe’s website I go.  I put the fuckin’ machine in my cart AGAIN only to find it isn’t available at B or W Lowes now, and I have to go with P.  I check out and now my 10% off won’t work because the coupon code police have caught up with me and I used that 10% off to save a hefty $6.66 on my pack of gum.

Now I’m making noises that aren’t really human and my kids are clearing the area because things are looking ugly and their mom is about to sprout tentacles or something.

I call customer service and wait…and wait… and wait.  I try different numbers to get any operator.  Once I sink my claws in, I won’t let go and SOMEONE will fix this BS.  I consider pressing numero dos para Espanol, but I’ll only tell the operator to come and pick up his drunken whore of a mother and wash his crab-infested pubic hair before I pay him for sex.  My Spanish is pretty rusty.  Or maybe I’ll just do it on purpose and blame it on rusty Spanish because now I’m definitely tearing up as I wait…and wait…and listen to one hit wonders from ten years ago coming to me from somewhere under the Bible belt.

Finally I hang up and go back online and type a two paragraph explanation as to why I will probably be found wandering naked in Times Square with a severed limb cradled like a baby in one arm and a bottle of Tide in the other.  Before I hit send I copy it.

Yeah, I’m on to you now, Oh Shitastic Hand I’ve Been Dealt for the Day.

I then press send and the computer is all “SORRY!  We had a glitch!! 🙂  Rainbows and smiles while we cram it up there a little higher!  Shop at Lowes!  Tell your friends!”

And I’m all “TOUCHE, Cock sucker!” and I paste and send again!   Can you feel that, Lowes?  Cause I just stuck it back to you right there.  HAH!  It was a kind of hollow victory but I was riding a series of Lowe’s (get it, lows?).

And then, glory be, it works!  Because I caught fate blatantly fucking with me and when you stare that bitch down, she turns tale and finds someone else who isn’t paying attention, and needs a new lawnmower.

And who should respond to my IM?  Why, the delightful Wesley, who offered to complete my purchase two hours ago.  I love irony.  Wesley smoothed it all over just as fine as you please.  He called me up to finalize the payment details and of course he was a peaches and cream with his velvet Southern drawl.  And he made my 10% off work like magic.

And that, folks, is that.  Until Sunday, when we got a call saying it would be delivered between 1 and 3.  Wesley told me Monday, I informed the woman when I called back to confirm.  Nope.  Sunday.  So my hubby stayed home from our daughter’s piano recital to receive the machine that never came.  It was probably one of my cancelled washers.  Tee Hee.

Well, for the happy ending, my cool new washer came today.  It is whisper quiet like the breeze through the magnolia trees in Wesley’s back yard.  I’ve washed two loads already, and I am nowhere near caught up.

So that’s it, until it starts acting up.  Now come get your mother.  Yo tengo mucho ropa sucia para limpiar y ella huele como un pescado viejo.

Connecticut Daylily Society

For the Latest News on the Connecticut Daylily Society

Alexis Duran

Writer of Fantasy, Science Fiction and Erotic Romance

Reckless Indulgence

of the Written Word

Moonbeams over Atlanta

A writer's, and reviewer's, area to explore stories in erotica, romance, and love. Love is Love: Romance with a twist.

Mia Kerick - Official Website

Love is what I see...

The Smutsonian

Book Reviews From a Professional Reader of Erotica

Rosanna Leo

Happily ever after, guaranteed.

The Paisley Kamyleon

Digital Designs, Photography & Fine Art by Kamryn E. Priebe

V's Reads...

Reviews, Rants and Rambles from a mom and pre-published author

Molly Lolly

Reader, Reviewer, Lover Of Words

Amy Quinton

Humorous Historicals with Heat


Where reader's choose their favorite M/M romance book and let them shine!

Natasha Snow Designs

Book Cover Design

The Drinkslinger

If you sell booze, this blog's for you!

Chris McHart

Just like coffee, but for the soul

It's About The Book

(and some other stuff)