I’ll have a little word salad …

My friend Steph and her mom got bad news yesterday about a mass on her mom’s lung; my friends and followers know my mom has been battling renal cancer for the past two years. This little bit of levity is in their honor, because we all need to laugh (I say this as my crazy cat licks my big toe … the boy’s just weird).

I'm weird? Look who's talkin' ...

I’m weird? Look who’s talkin’ …


At the paper, we often get absolutely unprintable letters  … some are out of state, others are filled with debunked conspiracy theories from both sides of the aisle (overwriting around pasted-in pictures and writing in the margins are dead giveaways), and some are full of claims of criminal conduct that we won’t print unless it’s been settled by a court.

Then there’s the word salad. Those are the letters that seem to be strings of random words … sometimes they are strings of random words, not unlike some of the search terms that lead people here.

So I checked my search terms again today, and again was both confused and giggling maniacally (yep, I do that). Some highlights:

“Stinky butt.” Really? Not “flaming pork butt?” I’m a little disappointed, frankly, and suddenly feel the need to call someone a doo-doo-head and pants them.

“Funny + IBS.” Okay, I get it. Humor is one of the ways I deal with my IBS; sometimes all you can do is laugh or you’ll cry. And honestly, the song from Parenthood aside, it’s really not a fun or funny medical condition at all. Which is why we really need a good laugh. Like this (“Pining for the fjords? What kind of talk is that?”).

And then there’s this: “Serenity morbid diaries.” Perhaps the journals of a wacky, lighthearted Goth? Writings of reflective Reavers? Random searcher, you frighten and intrigue me. Call me.

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