Tag Archives: blogging

Let’s play….

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Because it’s been a long week and I need a chuckle.

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I’d like to tell you there’s something wonderfully quirky up there like a hedgehog cheese grater…

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Or sandwich bags that lessen the chances of your kid getting beaten up for their PB&J….

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But alas, when I climbed up on a chair and checked?

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All I saw was this:

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A lone fly swatter the husband must have thrown up there when I wasn’t looking.

Handy if Mike Pence drops by, but otherwise not very amusing.

So regale me with your finds…

What’s collecting dust in your kitchen?

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You know I have to share these things.

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I do. Even though I’m sure you’d rather I didn’t.

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Yes, this exists. Though I think they’re wrong about the Olympic event.

And if you’re thinking…. that’s great River, but I don’t really care for cereal?

I’ve got your back.

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Pooping Champion Gummies.

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And tea.

You’re welcome.

But if that’s not enough to get you excited about this oh so helpful product? Visit their website and check out the fabulous club you can join.

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Now tell me you don’t want to be a card carrying member of that!

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Because some things are best left unexplored.

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Facebook ads. They’re never ending and annoying and I pay them very little mind.

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Yes, I like Hint water… but don’t need to see daily videos.

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And yes, those are some sweet shades I could easily see myself rocking next summer, but they don’t need to join the other 15 pairs I never wear in my junk drawer.

While I realize these ads are targeted to me specifically based on algorithms of my search history, every once in a while they surprise me.

As this one did the other day:

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Not being in possession of a pair, I assure you I have never actively searched for ball wash.

Trust me on this.

Of course since it popped up, I had to click. For research/ blog fodder purposes only you understand.

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Don’t be whack, GIVE A SACK.

There’s an ad slogan designed to burrow deep into your frontal cortex.

And while I admit I chortled over this, I’m not chortling now. Because you know what happens when you click on a Facebook ball wash product ad?

This:

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And this:

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I am now being inundated with less than helpful product placement.

Man meat.

What have I done!

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Because my readers are a high class bunch.

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A new follower is always a lovely thing.

Unless it’s a bot, a business or one of those endless fake blogs I zap on a daily basis.

Last week?

A new follower of the utmost distinction joined my list. There he is, right at the top.

⬇️

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Yes, The World’s Best Farter has joined our ranks. I’m not sure whether to be flattered or disturbed, but welcome Mr. Farter.

Pull up a chair.

Preferably over there, in the far corner.

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Now admit it…

You’re jealous he found me first.

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Yay me…?

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A blogging milestone was reached by yours truly recently.

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Although I’m not sure recognition was necessary.

Now if they had a banner that said, Congratulations on posting copious amounts of useless drivel people inexplicably continue to read I could understand it.

I mean really, celebrating this post –

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Where I wax poetic about meatless meat and utterly wrong rice seems a trifle excessive.

But who am I to argue with the WordPress gods?

I’ve been here since July of 2018 and have thoroughly enjoyed the experience. If the powers that be choose to recognize my productivity? Who am I to argue.

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Yup. That’s me.

If you can’t dazzle them with content, flood them with redundancy.

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My first one is a live pear.

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I don’t know about you, but I never have anything pop up in the ‘search terms’ box of my stats page…. until now.

I was excited! What was someone looking for when they arrived at my page… Chickens? Rocks? Rodent rebellions? It could be anything.

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New live pears?

What the…

What?

This required a Google search of my own.

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The Grisly Pear and… zombies.

No, that can’t be right.

Let’s try again.

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Okay, a giant lau lau is strange enough…

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But a waterproof bullet vibrator?

What the utter F!

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Cosmo-what?

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#2 in the series of ‘I’m definitely not young and single anymore’. Otherwise known as Cosmopolitan magazine highlights.

Or lowlights, you decide.

Gentlemen?

You’ve been warned.

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First up, a strawberry vagina.

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Magical?

Yeah, I must be doing something wrong. And because there are probably other women like me?

Products.

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Am I surprised they are named Honey Pot and Fur?

At this point, I am not.

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This explains a lot about the current generation. I enjoyed moving out of my parents house, but maybe that was just me.

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What brownie abomination is this?

No. Just…. no.

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Wow. And I thought breaking up via text was bad….

Finally there was this:

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Strategically placed mirror aside…. FaceTiming your gynecologist? I’m beginning to relish the fact I’m not in my twenties anymore.

P.S. … don’t be surprised when that cat starts having nightmares.

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