That's a New One

Google Search leads some curious seekers to My Boat (some of which, I am sad to report, have sent my boat to the bottom much like The Fitz that fateful November day):

“your body is so much fun i just want to give it a big stroke. you’ve gone flat and you’re all gooey. I shall not play with you until you have a wash lyrics”

Curious, my ass. Have you gone mad? This must be some new song infiltrating the air waves and obviously some people’s brain waves? Do they even truly have brain wave activity? Get the EEG machine, stat!

I got a giggle when Google and Yahoo searches like “pooped her pants” and “why does shit float” landed curiosity seekers into the depths of my disillusionment, but this one takes the cake, bakes it, eats it, and then, well. . . never mind. You get the picture, or hopefully not. There have been quite a few “pooped her pants” searches that landed people here, probably in response to the Alli clip on YouTube with the girl shitting her pants, which was pretty damn funny. As for “why does shit float,” what person in the world has NOT wondered that at some point in their lives (usually before the age of 6, and why someone is looking that up on the internet and not just asking mom and dad is beyond me; or if it is an adult and they are worried, they should be asking A DOCTOR instead of people like me, since I will just laugh until I piss my pants, fall off my chair and break yet another $125-$250 chair, and then get pissed because I have to fork over money for a new one).

It is a funny thing about chairs. I have had a few of them the last few years and they just do not seem to last as long as I think they should, but that might have to do with the fact that I sit in mine about 20 hours a day, 7 days a week, transcribing my transcriptionist’s transcription on my transcriber, and they just are not meant for that kind of abuse. I thought I got the Queen of all chairs (although it might be a King, considering the. . . *cough*. . . never mind.) when I got my last one, which has heat and massage. Too bad that my big fat ass mooshed all the padding down and the little vibrator thingies are now poking my ass instead of massaging it. Oh, and THE BOY swiped the controller, so I have no way to turn the stupid thing on anymore anyhow and those vibrator thingies are pretty useless for any purpose other than causing me discomfort. The best chair I ever had was the one I had at the gynecologist’s office I worked at years ago. That met a sad demise as well, due to a laughing accident. I wish I may, I wish I might, find such a chair, for working all night. I need to quit laughing so hard, but I cannot help myself when stuff just tickles my fancy AND my funny bone.