If Google Could Talk…

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.

My words are:

pixie dust ~ paramedic ~ cardio class ~ high school ~ Fraizer fur ~ pop tarts

They were submitted by: http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/

My first thought upon seeing my words for this installment of Use Your Words was what in the heck is a Fraizer Fur?

Naturally, when I don’t know something, which is often, I google it.  Sometimes I get really paranoid about what I google.  I think maybe it’s going into some big database somewhere that the NSA is tracking and I’m on some watch list.  Or I’ll die suddenly, and people will go thru my google history which would embarrass me more than being found by a paramedic with 8 week hair growth on my legs and dirty underwear.

WordPress has this feature which tells you what google searches brought up your blog in the search engine.  I see weird things here all the time.  People searching for things like “high school nip slip.”  My first thought was why on earth would someone from Finland google that particular phrase?  My second thought was equally horrifying, WHY DID MY BLOG COME UP?!!!?!? I’ve talked about some questionable subjects to be sure…  Well, now that I think about it, I’ve probably covered topics on pretty much every body part, so even though I don’t remember specifically talking about nipples, it’s not a farfetched idea.  However, I still don’t know why anyone would be googling it and can’t imagine they are up to any good!  I also imagine they were very disappointed perusing through my blog, because while no body part may be off limits as far as topic conversations go, there are no accompanying nude photos or graphics for viewing pleasure. This is just not that kind of blog.

Anyway, I digress.  I googled Fraizer Fur and got really worried.  Well first I got annoyed, then worried.

The first thing that popped up from Mr. Google:  “Did you mean: what is a frasier fir” 

Is that what I typed Mr. Google?  NO.  I don’t need autocorrect or made to feel stupid, this was the word I was given now tell me what it is without the commentary!  Is it just me or does Mr. Google feel awfully judgmental sometimes?  I scrolled down a bit, and saw a link to the Animal Liberation Front, which I clicked on against my better judgment.  Now I’m really freaked out that I’m on some NSA naughty list somewhere.  Just typing that phrase probably puts me on a list.  I don’t want to be on a list.  But curiosity got the better of me.  So I clicked.  Apparently, a bobcat was freed from a Montana fur farm, the Frazier Fur Farm in Plains, Montana, not to be confused with the Fraser Fur Farm in Ronan, Montana.  Whew!  Cause I mix those two fur farms up all the time.  Apparently, this is the first recorded live liberation in the history of the Animal Liberation Front.  They opened the cage and let the bobcats “run free to the wilderness.”  I mean I’m happy for the bobcats, but am I the only one concerned about the ramifications of “freeing” bobcats that have been caged for who knows how long?  In other news, another anonymous group freed a group of 4,800 mink in Idaho.  I worry for these animals and their newfound freedom, this doesn’t seem very responsible action to me.

All this research is making me hungry.  I’m seriously eyeing my son’s pop tarts.  The brown sugar cinnamon kind.  Honestly you could sprinkle cinnamon on anything and I’d probably eat it.  The fact that I really want to eat them is disturbing to me, because honestly is there a more gross breakfast treat than a pop tart?  Have you ever looked at the ingredients in a pop tart?  It’s got yummy ingredients like tbhq for “freshness” and sugar and corn syrup and high fructose corn syrup and dextrose and palm oil and wheat starch and did I mention sugar?  Is it any wonder I’m seriously considering eating the entire box.  In one sitting.  This really highlights the nature of my distress over my google findings.  Of course one pastry is 210 calories and 7 grams of fat.  A typical box contains 6 packs, each with 2 pop tarts per package.  So let’s see…math is not really my thing.  Hold on a sec.

If I ate the whole box that would be in the neighborhood of 2,500 calories and 84 grams of fat.  Since I can’t just magically sprinkle pixie dust all over myself to keep my stomach and thighs from absorbing all these calories and fats, I’ll be forced to do hours of cardio class, squeezed into uncomfortably tight workout pants, panting and sweating, trying to make it look easy and still look sexy for the incredibly hot (and probably Australian) male instructor who sounds remarkably like my Siri pal.  I’ll start to feel nauseous (all that tbhq) and decidedly not fresh, which will be followed quickly by my friend dizzy and her cousin light-headed.  I collapse into a heaping hot mess of sick and tired, upon which the hot Australian instructor is forced to do CPR, trying to avoid the dried cinnamon sugar at the corners of my mouth and bottom of my chin, and call the paramedics who in turn discover my 8 week unshaved leg growth and dirty underwear while searching for my phone to call my next of kin and chancing upon my dodgy google history!  In their attempt to revive me, all I can mutter are short phrases like “Fraizer Cinnamon Fur” and “Animal Liberation Tart” and “Save the Pop Minx!”

(I feel quite strongly that the entire paragraph above might come under a google search for “word porn”…)

(I’m also thinking that the visual I just gave you has you feeling quite jealous of my husband right about now)

(If you’re finding yourself getting too excited, my husband has been known to refer to some of my workout outfits as “man repellant”so yeah…)

Now that we are all calm and under control…

I still don’t know what a Fraizer Fur is but I’m leaning towards a tree of some kind?  Excuse me, I see a pop tart with my name on it! Disgustingly delicious!

Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:

Baking In A Tornado                        http://www.bakinginatornado.com

Southern Belle Charm                            http://www.southernbellecharm.com

Not That Sarah Michelle                         http://notthatsarahmichelle.blogspot.com

Spatulas on Parade                               http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/

The Bergham Chronicles                         http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com

The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver        http://www.thediaryofanalzheimerscaregiver.com/blog.html

Dinosaur Superhero Mommy                   http://dinoheromommy.com/

Confessions of a part time working mom      http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/

On the Border                                           http://dlt-lifeontheranch.blogspot.com/

Climaxed                                                 http://climaxedtheblog.blogspot.com

Everyday I’m Googlin’….

I’ve said this before but one of my favorite features on WordPress is “search terms.”  Things people googled and got my blog.  This feature is a never-ending source of amusement for me.  I thought I’d share some of my favorites.  I love to play the Google game at work (I’d do anything to avoid actually working).  If you’ve never done it, you just enter a few words and see what Google auto-searches for you.  It’s based on site stats and what other people are googling about, and it’s disturbing.  Seriously, I think the Zombie Apocalypse is upon us and zombies are already infiltrating the masses.

Smuggling Peanuts

I blame my friend at Peanut Layne for this one.  Smuggling peanuts into where?  Schools?  Do we have a group of rebel 1st graders out there staging an uprising over the banning of peanuts in the lunch room and during snack time?  And then I googled it myself and the first hit was from Urban Dictionary (alarm bells are going off, if it’s in UD it can’t be good).

“What a woman is said to be doing if her nipples are excessively erect and visible under her clothing. See also wingnuts.”

Yeah, pretty sure I’ve never talked about my nipples.  Well, except that one time when I talked about the excessive hair growth surrounding the nipple area.  I’ve heard the term “headlights” or “highbeams” but never smuggling peanuts.  Huh…learn something new every day!

Since I have to keep this blog G or PG (nipple talk isn’t PG-13 or R is it?  I mean….come on, nipples, everyone has them), some searches will have to be saved for another day, but let’s just say manly body parts is a very common and popular way to search for my blog.

Adam Levine (naked, fans, diet and workout, gay, nude, etc..)

My obsession for Adam Levine shouldn’t surprise anyone who follows me on twitter.  I’ve spent months trying to get him to follow me.  He’s still playing hard to get.  If he ever actually followed me back, I’d probably pee myself and never tweet again.  We have so much in common!  We are both children of the 70’s.  We both have dark hair.  We both love Maroon 5.  Yeah, I mean do I need to go on?  Clearly, we are soul-mates.  My fantasies of him are a bit strange though.  Because I’m pretty sure my left leg weighs more than his entire body, I always worry that I’ll die of bliss on top of him and he’ll like be stuck for days before anyone finds him, and then I shame eat trying to wipe the horror from my mind.  In case you were wondering, my blog is my place to say all the things that go on inside my head that I would never say out loud because well…isn’t it obvious?

He’s started following over 2,000 people on twitter in the last month, but not me.  I don’t understand.  By the way, I don’t like the term “stalking”.

I intensely investigate and research the things or people that are interesting to me.  I don’t stalk.  Stalking is so….gauche.  I really love that word by the way.  It means “lacking in social graces”.  Something I used to be afflicted with before I could regurgitate all my wacky/weird thoughts out in the blogosphere.  Now, I’m almost normal…ish.  I’ve haven’t embarrassed myself at all this week.  I don’t think…  Anywho, Adam Levine, listen up! Who do you think buys your overly priced concert tickets?  Not those poor teens and twenty somethings…not it’s me!  Suburban housewife extraordinaire!  SO FOLLOW ME BACK!  In the big scheme of things, it really isn’t too much to ask.  Once you follow me back, we’ll work on the whole love child thing…baby steps.

Man with glasses and drill

yeah, no clue.

Sasquatch Pretzel

Apparently, unlike Bigfoot, this does exist.  It’s a pretzel found in Portland.  There is also a Sasquatch music festival and brewery.  They take their Sasquatch lore very seriously in Portland.

Husband says va ja ja feels slimy after 3 kids

Slimy?  What the heck?  Add this husband to people I’d like to punch in the face.  Also, maybe see a doctor in case something is really wrong.

toxic fumes from burning flat screen tv

Ummm…if my TV was on fire, pretty sure I wouldn’t be stopping to ask google about it.  Ask the FIREMEN that should be at your house right now!

The scream munch inflatable

People are weird.  Hands down.  I don’t want to leave the house anymore.  Do they still have those places that deliver groceries you order online?

Too much ego will kill your talent

Maybe I shouldn’t post any more “award” blogs lol

Naked pushups

Unless it’s Adam Levine, I’m guessing this is bad naked.

Tranquilize his butt so we could have him on the hot seat

Ideas? Anyone?  Anyone?  Hello?  Can you hear me now?

Gator tears heart on ground pee

Sigh.  My faith in humanity is constantly tested.

It’s now time for Google Games!

I begin to enter something and let google autofill the rest for me.  Best. Fun. Ever.  I’ve spent 4 hours straight doing this…and if it sounds like I’m bragging…I am.  Let us find out what people are curious about shall we?

Why do I have…

Diarrhea, stretch marks, so much gas and discharge

Why would a….

anyone vote for Romney, a dog poop blood, a period be late, a testicle hurt

Why are…

manhole covers round, yawn’s contagious, flamingos pink, the flags at half mast

What are…

bath salts, 7 continents, shingles, capers

Where is…

Honey Boo Boo, Chuck Norris, my appendix

Why is…

YouTube so slow, the sky blue, my poop green, the ocean salty

Why don’t women…

like me, have adam’s apples, bleed in water, wear pantyhose anymore

Why don’t men…

like me, carry purses, do uneven bars, call

People are stupid.  If my google history ever became public knowledge though, I would stage my own death and start a new life on a different planet or Europe or something.

Blog #8 complete!  Okay, so now I need to go put lunch money in my son’s account because I said I did it this morning but I really didn’t, and he brought home another nasty gram from the lunch lady.  Calm down!  I’m good for it!

My husband posted this conversation with man-child earlier, I’m using it as my closer.  It’s good stuff.

Nuggets of Wisdom from the Man-Child: 
Man-Child: “Hey Dad, I learned another “college-kid” word today, want to know what it is?” 
Me: <mental sigh> “Oh, I cannot wait… what is it?” 
Man-Child: “The word is: Irate… it is like when you get really mad about something, you get IRATE.” 
Me: “That is awesome son… did your sisters teach you that word?” 

Man-Child: <mumbling as he runs off>… “I just learned it… IRATE!!!!” 

>20 – 30 minutes later< 

Man-Child: “Hey, MOM or DAD… you need to make me some ice cream for snack or I am going to get really IRATE!!!!” <Uncontrollable giggling> 


Everyday I’m Googlin’…

image courtesy of recipeapart.com

WordPress has this feature (and probably all blogging sites do) called “Top Searches”.  It tells me what google searches unearthed my blog for readers.  Over the past few weeks, I’ve been keeping track of these searches, and a disturbing pattern has emerged.


  1. Men with no penises (umm…women?)
  2. Hairy vaginas (I guess google is cheaper than Hustler?)
  3. Images of fat kids running (why? cyber bullies?)
  4. Fat basset hounds (are there skinny basset hounds?)
  5. Sex with horses (I know this is a fetish….but I just can’t wrap my mind around it, and I lived on a horse farm)
  6. Images of horse dicks (comparison shopping?)
  7. Boys and undies (I really hope this was a potty training search)

If I didn’t know anything about me, I’d wonder what the hell I’m blogging about to generate these kind of searches.  I feel like I need to shower.  People are strange and apparently obsessed with horses.

Reading these searches did remind me of two things.


Much to the mortification of my daughters, man-child refuses to close the bathroom door when in use.  Doesn’t matter if he’s pooping or pee’ing, the door is open.  In a perfect world, he would walk around naked.  When he was little, we would let him run around naked after his bath for a few minutes, we called this “naked play time”.  Little did we know, we were raising a future nudist.  A few weeks ago, I walk into MY bathroom, and there is my son, going to the bathroom with the door open.  The conversation went something like this:

Me:  Why are you using my bathroom?  

Man-child:  the toilet downstairs is stopped up and my sisters have their tampons all over the other bathroom…it’s disgusting!

Me:  You make some good points, carry on.

Man-child turns his head to look at me, and where his head goes, his body will follow.  I watch in horror as the arc of urine hovers precariously close to the edge of the toilet seat, and flash forward to an image of me cleaning piss from the walls of my bathroom.

Me:  (screeching) WATCH WHAT YOU ARE DOING!!!!!!!

Man-child:  (looks down and shrugs) Mom, relax.  I’ve got this, been doing it for years.

Me:  Oh right.  This from the 6-year-old boy who performs the walk of shame every morning in his pull-up.

Man-child:  MOM!  We don’t talk about that!!!

Me:  Sorry (not sorry).

Yes, you read that correctly.  My almost 7-year-old son still wears a pull-up at night.  We’ve tried everything.  He will sleep in a pool of his own urine without waking up.  The pull-up seems the lesser of two evils.  I’m open to suggestions if you have any?


On my way back from one of my school meetings last week, I pull up to a red light and there is a bicyclist in front of me.  Normally, I would be really annoyed about being trapped behind a cyclist on a busy street, but I’m making a right turn, so I’m feeling magnanimous today or just tired.  The light turns green, and this male cyclist moves like two inches and then stops.  I can’t turn.  I don’t know what he’s doing, but from the back, it looks like he’s digging around in his man junk.  Maybe he is suffering from some mamel toe (male camel toe) from his skin tight bicycle shorts or something far more disturbing (and those google searches come to mind) but he’s not moving and I still can’t turn.  I shouldn’t say he’s not moving.  He’s moving….his hand…  If he can’t find his manly treasure after this much rooting around, he’s got bigger issues (or smaller).  WTF is he doing????  I decide to turn on the air conditioner in my car, if you watched the video in my last blog, then you are familiar with the sound.  I could just honk my horn, but this method seems more passive-aggressively hostile than openly hostile.  I turn it on.  His hand jerks out of his shorts and business cards and granola bars come flying out.  I don’t see a fanny pack.  Does he have a pocket in his jock strap?  What the hell?  He gives me a dirty look, but he does get out of my way.  I think I run over his granola bars.  I feel kinda bad about that…not really.  It was a long week.  When I get home, it occurs to me I should have taken a pic.  <sigh>

So, GOOGLE….take those two thoughts and do your worst!

This is a short blog today (for me).  I will be posting a special blog tomorrow in honor of Labor Day.  About two years ago, I posted a blog called “The skinny on the French”, here is the link:


My daughter and I were inspired after watching the movie Julie & Julia, and we decided to try a few recipes from Julia Child’s “Mastering the Art of French Cooking”.  It was featured on WordPress, and is my most viewed blog to date.  It was two years ago, which is about how long it has taken me to recover or forget how hard it was because my daughter and I have decided to try again!

Tonight’s Menu:

Poulet Roti (roast chicken) 

Gratin Dauphinois

Peas (the frozen kind, two dishes will be more than I can handle)

Tomorrow, for your reading pleasure, I will post a blog about our experience complete with pics of the meal and everyone’s reaction.  Should be fun, so stay tuned!