Monthly Archives: March 2013

Colonoscopies, Porn and Snuggies

This blog has just reached its 20,000th pageview.  In the grand scheme of things, this is a rather paltry number based on how many years its been since I “launched” it.   It’s embarrassing to even say it out loud.

As those of you with a blog know, there are stats that track what posts have been read on what day, the link they’ve clicked on to get to the blog, a map of the world where you can see who is reading your work in Iceland, for example. (Actually, there isn’t anyone reading me in Iceland but I have quite a following in Russia, France and the Philippines.)

There are big spikes in the numbers on days that I post my links to facebook and a handful of other places.  I can see who is reading these at the exact time someone has the post open and I love that some people are jumping on them within minutes.  It makes me realize that I have a teeny, tiny bit of a “following.”

On the flipside, and really, it’s like being kicked in the backs of the knees, are the statistics that show the    EXACT words that people have typed in as their search terms to get to my posts.

Here’s what I have learned:

If you have the word “porn” ANYWHERE in your blog, especially in the title of a post, you will get a LOT of traffic.  More than one person has wanted to know if there was porn in the Middle Ages.  Really, who could blame them.  Kids and older students do their theses on much worse.

When you use a title for your post that is the same name of a Snuggie-like thing that appears in an infomercial you learn a lot about how lazy people are.  Forever Lazy.

There are a lot of people having colonoscopies that want to know if you can use Coffee Mate during the prep.  This is a very important question and certainly one that I needed the answer to.  People are also very concerned about colonoscopy insurance coverage, and what your “effluence” is supposed to look like.

I use a lot of free clipart in my posts.  Apparently, there are a lot of people who also want to get their hands on “boy sneezing clipart,” “plane in storm clipart,” and “female therapist” clipart.

These are in my personal Hall of Fame of search terms:

“Celebrity flabby ass”

“Jew sneeze”

“Why does Barbara Bush look so old?”

“When will corned beef be back on the shelves?

And my own personal favorite….

“Do middle-aged women like giving handjobs.”

No matter how you’ve found this blog, thanks for reading.

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The Lure Of The Blush Ball

This past weekend my friend Mark, who I’ve known for 20 years, reminded me of the seminal moment when I was sent down the cosmetic path of no return.  When he brought it to my attention, I was STUNNED that I had forgotten the all-important roots of the beginning of my slight product obsession.

Guerlain was spending a lot of advertising dollars on this “revolutionary” product, known as “Meteorites,” in high-end fashion magazines using tricks of photography to make them glisten and gleam.  Breathless and hyperbolic ad copy and reviews said things like, “Meteorites is a mythical makeup product issued from an avant-garde know how.”  They claimed to capture the light of shooting stars in order to “fill the skin with diaphanous and celestial light.”  I was sold even though I was most-likely still rather diaphanous in my twenties.  I also think it may have had something to do with the similar appearance of a favorite candy of mine usually found in bowls to scoop out at upscale restaurants:

 

I found myself visiting the magic blush balls at one of my favorite stores tucked into a spot in Harvard Square to get acquainted with them.  I wasn’t nearly as impulsive then as I am now, so I waivered a bit on the high price–I think around $40 at the time–but when my friends Mark and Matthew started egging me on, I caved.  I was the owner of the little powdery balls of blush that promised to change my life.

The directions told me to “swirl” a makeup brush over the surface of the competing colors where they would “tumble over each other” in the round box explaining the purpose of each one–you know, gold makes you glisten, pink, yellow and green do something to calm down or compliment skin tone and white highlights and brightens.  I took this all very seriously when I used them.  Matthew and Mark checked in constantly about my satisfaction with the blush balls.  My best guess is that MAYBE they lasted in the rotation of whatever beauty routine I had adapted for less than a month and then ended up in the equivalent of the Land of Misfit Toys, relegated to the piles of forgotten products.

In one of my MANY moves, the blush balls reappeared.  I was sadly rather indifferent about seeing them again, undoubtedly having moved on to some other luminous and glisteny product.  I was wreckless and careless and by that point they had become one of many total random items in a cardboard box, probably laying on top of my birth certificate and adjacent to a power cord of some long ago broken device.

My very last memory of my sweet blush balls is of watching them, like a slo-mo section of a film that signifies something critical to pay attention to, rolling across the street, one by one, being crushed by the weight of their own forward motion.  I watched as the occasional car went by, driving over the pinks and greens, leaving them flattened into obsolescence.