An Open Letter to People Who Find my Blog Accidentally (Volume 18)

Dear People Who Find My Blog Accidentally:

Well here we are at December. It is the waning of the year. In happy news, the days are officially getting longer. In sad news, well, everything else, I suppose. It’s dark and it’s cold and there’s all the snow and things aren’t…um…the cheeriest? I guess? Well, maybe they are for you, I don’t know your life. But still we soldier on, you know? It’s what we do. I mean, what’s the alternative, curling up in a ball and being all doom and gloomy? Give me a break.



There were a lot of searches this month and most of them were just totally perplexing and I don’t know how people got HERE from THERE, to be honest. Sometimes I read them and go, OH! and sometimes I read them and go, huh? Hmm. There was a lot of huh-ing and hmm-ing happening in Casa del Futbol this month. (I don’t even care if I spelled that right or used the words correctly, sorry. BFF would know. Did you know BFF is fluent in espanol? Si, senor, esta en fuego. Again, that’s probably wrong. I just like to say en fuego a lot, because it’s the only thing I really know in Spanish.)



In case you’re new, let me catch you up on this recurring post.  I’m obsessed with my stats; I like to check what search terms drive people to my blog; then I feel REALLY BAD this isn’t what they were looking for. So I write them a letter of apology (this is the eighteenth one. As you can tell from the title. SNIFF MY BABY IS A GROWNUP NOW! Can vote and go fight for the country and EVERYTHING! Aw, they grow up so FAST, don’t they? Search for the others; they’re stellar.) Why do I do this? Because I was promised there would be a dessert bar. Where the hell’s the dessert bar, I ask you?

So I’m going to break you down into categories and address you in groups. Oh, shush, wait til you see how long this is already. Seriously, it’s cuckoo-bananas long this month, you guys. The original document was fourteen pages long in Word, I’m not even kidding you in the slightest. WE MAKE CONCESSIONS WHERE WE CAN.

Category the First: Thanks, darlin’!

love you my friend you always make me laugh

I thought we’d start this out on a high note. I love YOU, my poor lost searcher, even if you weren’t looking for me when you typed this in. I try SO HARD to make you laugh. I’m glad I’m a success. Even if you’re not talking to me, I’m going to pretend you are. SO THERE I CAN. It’s my blog.

Category the Second: Meh.

i’ll just borrow a book tomorrow

This is very lackadaisical. Eh. I’ll just borrow a book tomorrow. Today I’m too busy sighing deeply and moping and dying my hair jet black.

Category the Third: ME TOO

i hate sweet potatoes
not enough sleep and i’m shaky

I ALSO hate sweet potatoes. I won’t eat them. No no not me. And I have not been getting enough sleep and am TOTALLY shaky and when my awesome boss was training me today I was holding in yawns and I felt terrible because she wasn’t boring me at all, I just can’t sleep because of the coughy coughing. STOP THAT LUNGS.

Category the Fourth: You could just go ON Snopes and search for this stuff, you know

beyond belief fact or fiction snopes
snopes nutella orangutan

I like that someone went to Google or some search engine and searched for Snopes things when they could have just gone to Snopes. That’s ok. I’ll Snopes them for you.

Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction was that terrible Fox show that would say something like “A GIRL! Saw a BLOODY GHOST! And it WARNED HER OF HER OWN DEATH! Then she DIED OF BLOODINESS! Fact? Or FICTION?” And then at the end of the show they’d say, “Fact.” And you’d be all, “WTF, SHOW. No it was NOT.” Snopes has very little to say about this show, other than to debunk a couple of the things they say were true. (I was OBSESSED with that show. Because it was TERRIBLE and the acting was SO FUNNY and it was on Sunday mornings when I would eat my breakfast and I would laugh and laugh.)

Bad puns like this happened a lot, too. This show was a hoot.

Bad puns like this happened a lot, too. This show was a hoot.

Snopes has no idea what you mean by “nutella orangutan” and said “SORRY NO” when I tried that search. I did a separate search for “nutella” and one for “orangutan” and had no luck. Well, there were stories about the two, but nothing linking them. Now I’m insanely curious, lost searcher. AH I SEE! Apparently people are saying “Nutella is the reason orangutans are endangered” because there’s a ton of palm oil in Nutella and so they’re destroying rainforests to get the palm oil and therefore killing off all the orangutans. Dammit. Nutella’s super-good, yo. And as a side note, I can’t imagine it’s the only product that uses palm oil.

Category the Fifth: Hee!

hedgehog euphemism funny
hedgehog in a monocle t-shirts (5)
hmm thanks for the cake but wheres my presents
i totally got it
lemur pun          
lions thrown on rudolph the red nosed reindeer characters
lucy is not bipolar            
only boy hair     
people laughing at badminton
picts of a sexting baby  
poison dart frog enemies            
pug wearing jeggings    
sit on doll squash doll
there there ugly bald puppy      
zoooooooooo porno

So much wacky this month. SO MUCH.

There were a lot of hedgehog-related quotes this month. Which I like. I don’t know that I know any hedgehog euphemisms. Well, I guess you could see how far you could go with “prickly.” The word “prickly” is always kind of euphemistic. As for a hedgehog with a monocle…and so many people wanted this…is this a thing? Is this a thing now?

All I could find in relation to that was this thing which kind of sucked. Instead, please have this hedgehog in an egg cup.

Why? Oh, because LOOK HOW CUTE, that’s why.

I like “I totally got it” because it sounds like I was searching my own blog.

“Lemur pun?” Sheesh, I’m terrible at puns, I’m no help at all. So just lemur alone. (Ugh, SEE? That doesn’t even LOOK like “leave me alone.” I have NO IDEA how to make lemur into a pun. My Uncle J. would. He’s the best at the wordplay. Just the best.)

The idea of lions being thrown on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer characters made me laugh until I choked. Just PITCH that lion at them. Just THROW it on in there.

I am NOT bipolar. No. Correct. Neurotic and sometimes depressed, but not at all bipolar. I’m almost always partly manic and almost always partly depressed, I don’t fluctuate between the two. I had a test once, they said no, no. You are not bipolar. And I said, ok then, thanks.

ONLY boy hair. No other kinds. Gotcha.

Is people laughing at badminton like women laughing alone with salad? I like to imagine it is.



How would you know the baby was sexting and not just texting? Are you reading what he’s saying over his shoulder? Because that’s rude, give a playa some privacy, yo.

POISON DART FROG ENEMIES! They would totally hide around the corner from each other and dart the hell out of each other, you know they would. They would be like the Crips and Bloods of the dart-frog world.

"Did you HEAR what Franklin said about you? OMG, Jimmy. OMGGGGG!"

“Did you HEAR what Franklin said about you? OMG, Jimmy. OMGGGGG!”

Oh, pug, don’t wear those jeggings. You’re chubby, they’ll look terrible on you.

Schnozzle-knot? I call your nose your schnozzle. You can’t tie that into a knot. What are you calling a schnozzle? This is weird but also made me giggle.

Sit on doll; squash doll. It’s a fact of life. A sad, sad fact.

There, there, ugly bald puppy. It’s ok. You can borrow those jeggings from the pug up there, those might make you feel sexy.

There are so many “o”s in that “zoooooooo porno” that I can’t even hate it. It’s so CHEERY, you know? And gross. But CHEERY!

Category the Sixth: I feel like this is very deep, if only I could understand it 

you have zones friends you have plus friends and you have your mines

I don’t understand this, but I feel like it’s probably something I NEED to understand. Like, “zone friends” and “plus friends” and then there’s this “mines,” whatever that is. I feel like if I understood this, the key to friendship would be in my hand, and I would get it. I would just GET it. And all would be made clear to me. And I would no longer have to spend precious time or energy figuring shit out, because I WOULD KNOW.

Category the Seventh: YUM

criminal minds reid kiss 
eric balfour shirtless

There was an episode of Criminal Minds where Reid kissed a girl in a pool and I almost DIED OF THE HOTNESS. I replayed that scene like fifty times. I’m not even embarrassed about it. (Is anyone watching this season? I missed a couple episodes early on – or maybe even last season. And I’m a couple months behind, so don’t spoil me. Who’s the chick he’s talking to that he has to talk to from pay phones who told him she loved him in the last episode I watched and I squeed? Some weird doctor? Where’d he meet her? I missed the episode where she was introduced, apparently! Argh!)

He was wearing all of his CLOTHES in the pool THIS WAS THE HOTNESSSSSS

He was wearing all of his CLOTHES in the pool THIS WAS THE HOTNESSSSSS

Also, Eric Balfour gets hotter with every episode of Haven I watch. I have no idea what’s happening on that show at this point, AND I DO NOT CARE. Because, ERIC BALFOUR. (Also, it’s good. I’m just confused as shit. I feel the same way about Fringe.)



Category the Eighth: Fun with foreign languages

freka peg
fruhstuck lucy   
odin tattoovorlagen

Some of these look like they might belong to Andreas, right? Let’s SEE!

“freka peg” IS NOT A FOREIGN WORD EW. It’s a gastro tube for feeding people who can’t eat with their mouthholes. What the hell? How’d that bring you here?

“fruhstuck lucy” means breakfast lucy. You may certainly BRING me breakfast, as I’m often too tired to make it; however, you may not EAT me for breakfast, Cannibal McGillicutty. As for breakfast in bed, let’s see how things go first, don’t go using your Jumping to Conclusions mat just yet.

“Joulupukki” brought me much joy because it is a Finnish term that means “Christmas goat” or “Yule goat” and then randomly Wikipedia said “over time, the figure became more or less merged with Santa Claus” and I don’t know if something like that just HAPPENS, you know? How does a goat merge with a man? Ew, not like THAT. Also, Wikipedia dropped this kooky nugget of info on me that Andreas never told me: “There is a long Finnish tradition of persons dressing in goat costume to solicit or perform for leftover food after Christmas.” WHAAAAAT? Oh, I want someone to come to my door in a GOAT COSTUME begging for FOOD! Come ON!

“odin tattoovorlagen” means Odin tattoo templates in German. Listen, you don’t want your tattoo to look like everyone else’s. Be original, my little German body-arted friend. The template art is for the unoriginal. Promise.

Category the Ninth: Please don’t

children’s tubetops

Don’t put your children in tubetops. You’re just asking for trouble. That child will grow up into an ADULT who wears tubetops and possibly picks up cigarette butts out of the Walmart parking lot and SMOKES THEM. Because YOU couldn’t put her in a nice teeshirt. Don’t you feel terrible now that you’re bailing her out of jail for like the fortieth time, Mom?

Category the Tenth: No, “they don’t”    

feminism “hate men”

Not if they’re doing it right, they don’t. Don’t be an idiot. Feminists hate stereotypes and they hate being treated like inferior members of society and they hate a lot of things, but men aren’t one of the things they hate. Unless they’re assholes. And yes, there are feminist assholes. Everyone can be an asshole, no matter what group they identify with. True story!

Category the Eleventh: Huh.

badass man wearing cardigan    
barbie really squirts water          
bumbler/woo pig
bump uglies gunk
custodian mom sayings about kids
end of the world cakes 
finnish flag marijuana    
frederic remington when his heart is bad
fun alcoholic drinks for yankee swap      
hobo totally drugged
i miss lucy tyson so much
if the underware you are wearing could talk       
im an aunt, so hes the nephew
monkeys with glow in the dark feet       
movies containing pantyhose    
mule (ass) in pen
scary furries     
tubetop sheer
varys full body

There were a lot of weird searches this month, as you can see. And perplexing ones.

Can a man be truly badass and also wear a cardigan? I mean, not badass in an ironic Mr. Rogers way, either. Food for thought, I guess.

Jon Hamm. Is he badass? Aw, who cares, he's prettiness.

Jon Hamm. Is he badass? Aw, who cares, he’s prettiness.

Bumbler woo pig. I don’t even know. Like, in a romantic way? Hmm. I think we don’t need to think more about this. What’s a bumbler? Like a bumble? Or like Dumbcat when he knocks over all the things? I really don’t think we need to think more about this I said.

Bump uglies gunk. Heh. OK, then. GUNK.

Custodian mom – like a foster mom? Why do you want sayings? What does this mean, are you cross-stitching a sampler?

Ooh, I want end-of-the-world cake. Is there ice cream, too?

Why are you bagging on the Finnish flag? What does it have to do with marijuana?

Seriously, you have to be doing something MORE than marijuana to think this looks like marijuana.

Seriously, you have to be doing something MORE than marijuana to think this looks like marijuana.

This is Frederic Remington’s “When His Heart is Bad.”

How this got you here, I do not know.

There is nothing fun about Yankee Swap, it’s torturous and evil. Also, why does everyone want alcohol given to them at work, that’s confusing to me. Buy your own hooch.

Probably there’s nothing funny about totally drugging a hobo except the word “totally” makes me laugh like a moron so there you go. “That hobo was TOTALLY DRUGGED, yo.”

According to the internet, Lucy Tyson isn’t a famous person. Did someone hit the internet and just put in the name of the person they miss? That’s so sad. And sweet. And sad. I wonder if I do that it will make my lost-and-gone-forevers come back to me, like a magic 8-ball or a witches’ cauldron or something.

If my underware (learn to spell, weirdo) could talk they would tell you to stop thinking about them, they’re none of your concern.

If you are the aunt, he is the nephew. Probably. Unless he’s your dad, or a man off the street. This reasoning is flawed.

Monkeys! WITH GLOW IN THE DARK FEET!!! That’s terrifying.

Stop being obsessed with pantyhose, creepers. And eunuchs. I got a lot of eunuch-searches this month.

Can you imagine how not-hot a sheer tubetop would be? Because the girls would be all squished? No thanks.

And here. I found these furries for you and was saving them. You’re welcome.

Category the Twelfth: Depends. Who are you?

did i piss you off

I was trying to think if anyone pissed me off this month, and other than a couple random annoyances, the answer is YES A COUPLE OF PEOPLE DID. So if this is YOU, one of those people, yes, yes you totally did. The rest of us are cool, though.

Category the Thirteenth: I’m sorry, lovely. Life is a hurty place, no?

i’m lonely & i miss u        
i’ve finally decided it i’m going to kill myself         
really depressing crap
such a relief to give up hope
you may know me but you have no idea who i am

I’m sorry you’re lonely. Please don’t kill yourself, nothing at all is worth that. “Really depressing crap” made me laugh a little, sorry. “Such a relief to give up hope” – well, in some cases, yes, actually, it is? It’s a load off. And in most cases, no, it is not, because you need to have hope burning, just a little, because it keeps you going. So don’t give it up completely. Unless the thing you’re hoping for is ridiculous, and deep down you KNOW that thing is ridiculous, because then when you finally let that go you feel really, really free. And honestly, this last one – yeah, I get that, babe. I get that. I totally get that. I’m sorry. All I can say is, find some people you DO let know who you are. Maybe not everyone…just a few people. But be selective, as people are tricksy beasts and sometimes they break your heart into a million pieces if you’re not the most carefulwith your choosery . But I do promise you’ll feel better in having let some people in. It’s exhausting wearing a mask all the time and you can’t always keep up your walls.

Category the Fourteenth: OK, I won’t? Thanks for the warning?

hey don’t make me put you on my shit list

Whoo, thanks for letting me know I was walking a fine line, there, because I sure wouldn’t want to wake up one morning and find out that BAM I’d been put on someone’s shit list WITHOUT ANY WARNING. I mean, how would THAT feel? I’d imagine pretty terrible.

Whoo, that was a long post. I had a lot of searches and it’s way past my bedtime and I’m cranky as all get out so here we go, Polly Sunshines. Love your faces.

Until next month, my poor lost lambikins. May Google be kind in your searches.

Love, Me.

(As always, thank you to Mer for the inspiration for these posts!)

About lucysfootball

I'm not the girl with the most cake. Someday. SOMEDAY. View all posts by lucysfootball

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