Search me!

Have you ever ventured a little look-see down on the right-hand side of my page? Where it says "View My Stats" or some nonsense? (Feel free to look now.)

That little teensy weensy link is my secret way of stalking my stalkers. I know who you are, hate-mailers. Bwahahaha...

It also tells me how people find my site, which, in itself, is a very amusing pastime. Or as my husband might say, a time suck. It's called a keyword. Let's go through them and see if I can help these lost internet travelers, shall we?

Mexican donkey show

I'm not sure if you know what this is, but it's basically a woman having sex with a donkey. Until I started getting 5 hits a day from these search terms, I didn't know that donkey sex was all the rage in some Mexican villages. Kind of like America's version of wayside sex. Right George Michael?

I'm guessing it's all those pervy Americans paying to see this crap. Mexicans are too busy growing all our marijuana for ten cents an hour or not dying from swine flu to be going to those shows. (It's supposed to be funny, people. ¡Viva Tamiflu!) Anyway, if you use those keywords, you'll come to my crazy trip to Milwaukee earlier this summer. And no, no donkeys were hurt during the filming of that vacation.

Target's hours

Okay, really. I know I visit Target a lot. Obsessively even. (I've been good lately, I promise. Only one trip per week.)

But damn. Google it. I haven't checked in a while, but I was right at the top forever. And just for a post about being ill-prepared for the Apocalypse. And selling my youngest for canned goods.

If you've somehow found this site and you're legitimately looking for Target's hours: Mon-Sat 8-10, Sun 8-9. You're welcome.

Carry my, carry my, no you can't carry my...

This one cracks me up. It's the one search where I know I'm actually doing some good in the world. These are the wrong lyrics to Lady Gaga's Poker Face. I posted about my realization that her song had nothing to do with carrying rollerblades.

Spread the knowledge. Who says you don't learn anything from blogs?

I don't want a large Farva, I want a goddamn litre o' cola

Have you ever seen Super Troopers? You should. It has one of the best scenes in any movie when Farva loses his cool with a cocky fast-food cashier. I used that quote for the title of my post on babysitting while in need of caffeine and about ten more hours of sleep.

Great movie. Littering and... littering and... littering and... smoking the reefer. Good stuff. Very quotable. Wow. Just mentioned pot for the second time this post. Yay, me.

Radioactive woman

This search will bring you to the post that put me on the government watch list. And yes, I'm still gassy.

Czech strippers

Wow. Um. Totally lost on that one. The closest thing I can come up with is this post about how I will never be bringing sexy back. Or maybe the one about themed parties - in which my sister's party was unintentionally stripper themed. Who knows.

3 monkeys, 1 midget

Not really sure I want to know what people are looking for with this search. Somehow, I'm not surprised they get to my site, what with all the keyword hits from donkey sex and strippers. I'm hoping they're disappointed when they get the post from Elliott's birthday party. I'm hoping.

I married a whore

Ha! Hahahaha. This is from the time that Mike went to Milwaukee, got intoxicated with friends, and drunk-dialed my cousin. Enjoy that heart-warming tale, everyone.

And for the record, I called him a drama whore. That's a very important distinction that Google somehow missed.

Loren needs

Have you ever played that game that you search for your name plus the word "needs"? Apparently I'm the only Loren on the internet playing that game and writing about it.

For all you curious Lorens out there, I can tell you what Loren needs.

Loren needs a shower, a hot meal, some jeans without holes in the crotch, 38 hours in a day, another tattoo, someone to massage this tension out of my shoulders, a poolboy, a pool, and a nanny who works for Cap'n Crunch. Oh, and wine. Lots of wine.

Will Smith butt shots

Have no idea. I'm assuming they're getting my dear-God-I-hope-my-insides-dry-up-and-rot-out post when I got my Depo shot. I wish Will Smith was present, but alas. He was not.

For the record, I am neither the Loren Cole from Massachusetts, the Loren Cole from San Francisco, nor the Loren Cole from Bellevue, WA.

I am the (formerly known) Loren Cole who will be residing in hell shortly.

and finally...

Making momma my bitch

Have you read my site? This is the only one that makes any sense at all.