Monday, November 20, 2006

responses to google queries

"nan golden"
Hey, nan golden searcher! I get you all the time. Whoever you are. Looking for something, the fabled "nan golden," whatever that is. I wonder if Nan Goldin the photographer ever looked for the elusive "nan golden"? You should google her and find out.

"barnyard movie tits"

I don't have too much to say about this search, but the 16th result is for a DVD called "Goo Gobblers," which I surmise is about gelatinous turkeys.

"fuck cancer shirt"

Whoah now! I don't go for that shirtosexual business. You want to have sex with a shirt - even a cancer shirt - that's fine with me. Live and let live, I say. But don't go rubbing it in my face with your internet search strings and your shirt marriage rights.

"how to make a reptile fog mister"
What? Are you looking for some mister to tell you how to make a "reptile fog"? Okay, I'll be your mister. Just take all the reptiles you can find, big or little, it don't matter - just get a big sumbitch pile of the scaly critters - and blow them up with all the dynamites you can find. Just wham! A fine mist of alligators, garter snakes, skinks, whatever.

Reptile fog could also be a drink. Something green and nasty.

"nan golden"
A-ha, you didn't take me seriously last time, did you? Maybe you're looking for "The Golden Naan," that Eddie Murphy movie where he goes to India and wipes his ass with a piece of bread? Is that it? Stop coming here.

"michael jackson singer powerpoint presentation"
Judging from stories about his most recent performance, I think he'll be reduced to doing powerpoint presentations soon enough. I can imagine the first slide: Main Heading - "We Are The World"; Points - 1. Children; 2. Relative Brightness of Day; 3. Let's Start Giving; 4. Nose Falling Off Again, Fuckfuckfuck

"soon the gypsy queen in a maze of vaseline lyrics"
A maze of vaseline?

"sigmund freud secret documents 2016"
Awesome. I never knew I wanted something so much until I saw that search. This sounds like the next Bond movie plot to me. If it were an Ian Fleming novel, it would probably reveal Freud's membership in any one of a number of terrorist organizations seeking to bring down civilization (See: anti-semitism, batshit rabid, in works of Ian Fleming, The). If I were writing the script, the documents would read: "Dear Diary, How are you today? I am fine but dead, as it is 2016. The doctors have not brought me back to life to continue my evil work of dismantling the way of life we all cherish. Okay, bye! Signed, Sigmund."

"her first anal sex"
I'm sorry, I don't know her.

"nan golden"
Get off my goddamn website, you punk kids.

2 comments:

sgazzetti said...

Dear Sir,
I have had a hard evening of cursing at my Firefox 2.0 and its crappy about:config and finally I gave up in a rage. So by the time I was back up and browsing I was in too fine a dudgeon to enjoy it. Then I came here and read this entry and, well, you know the rest. It made me laugh, which was a nice contrast, for my wife, anyway, to all the swearing. I especially liked the part where you said, "stop coming here".

S. Gazzetti

P.S.: I came here from Google, after searching for "nan golden's robot vagina".

rekabek said...

Har har! Reptile fog mister! And it's a real thing, too. I never knew!

Why do reptiles get so much cool stuff, anyway? Where's MY heat rock?