Summer may be over, but that doesn’t mean we can’t spend just a few more moments reliving the glory days of August…and the bizarre search terms people used to find this place. So pull back out your white pants and flip-flops, smear a little zinc on your nose, and ignore that chilly rain…at least for the next three minutes.
“buttjazzle” Please. Don’t. I’m begging you. I’m having a hard enough time eating over here as it is. Ok fine. *clicking noises, sigh of relief* Because I am so dedicated to you, Interwebz, I did a google image search for ‘buttjazzle.’ I got nothing. The world is still safe. Until I figure out what’s going on with my computer and I have graphic editing capabilities again. *cue sinister music*
“nph and moist nose?” As weird as that phrase is, it was actually worse when I read it as “nph and moist NOISE.” I mean, I love NPH a whole lot and I’m still waiting for him to call and ask me to officiate his wedding, but I don’t need to know anything about his moist noises. *shudder* Moist noses though? Bring on the video.
“excuse me while i pimp myself” Those are DEFINITELY not the lyrics to “Purple Haze” but thanks for playing. Which reminds me, I need to do some of that this week. I should probably go ahead and start smacking myself around now so I can fully respect my authority later.
“can i duct tape over my vagina” This is one of those moments where semantics seem important. I suppose you CAN duct tape over your vagina, at least for a brief period of time, but I don’t think you SHOULD. Unless you’re a Kardashian. Then you should probably consider skipping the tape and moving on to welding materials. Also? Stop monopolizing my celebrity rag magazines, damnit.
“how do unicorns work?” Silly rabbit, unicorns don’t “work.” Unicorns don’t punch a time card at a wholesale warehouse or sit at a computer monitor all day. The spread joy throughout the land while vomiting rainbows and pooping cupcakes. And they smell nice. If you’re trying to plow a field with a unicorn, you should be flogged. With a wet Rod Stewart. Also? Maybe stay away from pygmy hippos and petite lap giraffes, too. Oppressor.
“uniporn” …and now I’m uncomfortable. Maybe that last search was missing the word “it” from the end of it. “How do unicorns work it?” The same way everyone works it, I would think – glittery pumps, gratuitous cleavage shots, and a dab of Bailey’s behind each ear, right?
“vaseline on french toast song” Because it just isn’t enough to drop a giant, gelatinous mound of vaseline on steaming hot slice of french toast, you have to write a song about it, too.
“why is nonetheless one word but nevermind isn’t” Why indeed?!?! And nevertheless, too! The hell? That still bothers me. And buttfloss. But that’s just as much about the concept itself as it is about the word structure.
“this ukulele kills fascists” Giggle. Let’s be besties. Fascist killing besties. And we’ll wear berets and camouflage vests with lots and lots of pockets. And we’ll fill those pockets with picks and fresh strings and capos and pitch pipes and tiny moleskin notebooks to write down our revolutionary lyrics. I’ll go ahead and start growing a mustache so I have something to twirl menacingly between songs. And we’ll talk about how very much we miss Woody Guthrie. Unless you’re Tom G. Then we’ll sit around and watch DVDs of the Muppet Show. Muppets kill fascists, too.
That’s it. That’s all you get. Time to ditch your white pedal pushers adorned with tiny pink bunnies carrying machine guns, and slip into your jeans and galoshes – also possibly adorned with tiny pink bunnies carrying machine guns. I’m not here to judge your fashion sense. Much.
The Muppet Revolution will not be televised.
As if I need another reason to love you…
I’d like to think that the term of art for Ceiling Cat taking a crap is “buttjazzle.” Thank you so much for your perceptive noticing of detail.
So THAT’s what that was! I feel much better. For the love of Celing Cat, put some glitter on that thing.
Woe unto ye who try to work a pygmy hippo, lap giraffe or unicorn! WOE, I say!!!
WHOA. That’s what you say when riding a unicorn. Or so I’m told.
Um. I think I know what song the vaseline on toast is about. Really. And now I’m scared.
Also, I own several DVDs of the Muppet Show. The entire first season, plus 4 or 5 other DVDs of 3-4 episodes each that don’t seem to have a timeline. I WUV the Muppet Show.
The Flaming Lips didn’t say anything about FRENCH TOAST. I mean, everyone knows you don’t mix cinnamon and petroleum jelly, don’t they? Everyone but Micky Rourke, of course.
You’re right, I guess it was just regular toast. Maybe she puts vaseline on French Toast only during weather emergencies?
I happen to think that your ukulele does indeed kill fascists. And Nazis. And eventually, Donald Trump.
Herbert is packing. You’re totally right.
It wasn’t’ until I read your commentary that I realized it didn’t say “moist noise” – which would have been far, far creepier!
Wow, your search terms are WAY more hilarious than mine. HAHAHAA!
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