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Get Out of My Head!

So, I meant to mention this a couple of days ago, but somehow it slipped my mind. I’m not sure how, exactly, because it’s haunting. Chilling, even. I’ve got a little shrinkage going on right now, just thinking about it. Brrrrrrr!

Anyway, here’s the thing — the software I’m using to maintain this little train wreck of a site comes complete with a search function. And all the searches get logged, so I can see what people are looking for within these pages. Usually, it’s the same old kinky nonsense, like ‘naked drooling stripperella‘, or ‘rachel ray dipped in chocolate‘. Or, for that matter, ‘olsen twins wrapped in bacon‘. People really are crazy, you know.

(And the point is still valid, even if nobody actually searched for any of those particular things. Sure, I made them up… but the real searches are much, much worse. And anyway, it’s only a matter of time. Honestly — the Olsen twins swaddled in pork products? That’s pure gold, man. I just happened to think of it first.)

Anyway, that’s not the point. No, the point is something that someone actually did search for, a couple of days ago. More specifically, three somethings — but only one someone, and that’s the scary part. A few days ago, I noticed the following real search queries, entered here from the same person, less than a minute apart:

• craptastic
• tasticles
• douchebaggery

Damn, people. I mean, first of all, on how many sites would you find even one of those words — much less all three?

(I’ve provided links through the search script for each, just so you know this isn’t the first time any of those terms have made an appearance. Or the second. Or, for that matter, the third. I may not make any damned sense, folks, but at least I’m consistent. That’s gotta be worth something.)

More creepily, though, who besides me would know to search here for those three words? Or even know the things existed? Besides that, there were no other searches from that machine — just the three. What in the name of unholy pervy hell were they looking for? I’m… I’m just so confused. And scared. And a little turned on, I’ve gotta be honest. Look, somebody out there thinks like I do, apparently. Who’s to say it’s not Rachel Ray, sitting at her computer, typing away? While wrapped in bacon. Or prosciutto, maybe. And dipped in chocolate. Now that’s cooking. Rrrrrrowr!