Tuesday, August 23, 2011

An Open Letter to People Who Find my Blog Accidentally (Volume 2)

Dear People Who Find my Blog Accidentally:

Last month, I gave you my abject apologies. You seemed to be looking for answers to existential questions, like what could make you whole, and for dating advice. I felt severely bad for you because instead of finding someone who could help you with these very serious, kind of sad questions, you found me instead, and were probably very confused, and probably started cutting, or having sex while wearing multi-colored lip gloss, or whatever it is the kids do these days when they are angsty. 

This month, I’m just kind of worried. 

The search terms that brought you here by accident that I’ve been seeing on my stats page (thanks, Google!) are extremely stress-inducing. Not so much for me, but for the state of the world. Some are fine, and understandable. But it’s the rest I’m worried about. 

My friend Mer gets awesome search terms. I won’t spoil what they are, since she might want to talk about them someday, but let’s just say that they are weird and fun and written in sort of a caveman-like pidgin English. Entertaining! WHY DON’T I GET ANYTHING LIKE THAT. I wouldn’t be up half the night worrying about you people if I got things like this. 

Let’s talk about the normal ones first. Well, ok, maybe not normal, as I’m not sure why this is the place you chose to click, but at least the ones that don’t cause me to stay up nights worrying that you people are the ones who are going to be changing my adult diapers in the nursing home someday unless I choose to drive myself into a pole before that eventuality occurs. 

To the person who came here by searching for “how to get a degree in the UK”: 

Honestly, my first thought here is why you would click on my blog for this advice? Because I think I’ve mentioned England maybe two or three times, and the majority of it was in reference to the time I was struck with Mad Cow Disease (in case you’d like an update on that situation, it’s still dormant, but I’m sure that Mad Cow Disease is very insidious and is just waiting for the right moment to raise its bovine head and kill me with holes in my brain. You’ll know because I’ll start mooing, I’d imagine.) But as I’m totally helpful and it’s obvious you’re grasping at straws, I’ll help you out. 

How to get a degree in the U.K.: 
  1. Get off the internet and stop searching for "how to get a degree in the U.K."
  2. Enroll at a local university (I hear Oxford is nice, why don't you give them a call)
  3. Go to your classes
  4. Pass them
  5. When you are done, they will give you a piece of paper. This is also known as a "degree."
I mean, I assume this is how it’s done. This is how it’s done in the United States, which is, by the way, where I live? In case you weren’t aware? Which is why clicking on my blog for this advice seems an odd choice? I mean, I suppose things could be different over there. My knowledge of the British school system is limited to Harry Potter movies, really, but I hear Hogwarts is REALLY hard to get into. Also, graduation there seems to consist of defeating Voldemort, and that's really, really hard.

To the multiple people who got here by searching for a variety of terms related to Dr. Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds: 

Well, first, I’m sorry to tell you this, but he’s already taken. Amanda and I have dibs. We’re going to live in a communal relationship in which we share him that will not be at all weird or creepy because he’s a fictional character.

Second, congratulations on your good taste! I have no issue with this search as I’ve personally done it myself. There are very few bad days that can’t be solved by looking at a photo of Dr. Spencer Reid. I don’t even have an issue with the choices you made in search terms: “Spencer Reid,” “Spencer Reid and his mother,” and “Spencer Reid with glasses.” These are all valid choices. 

I do feel bad because I’ve only mentioned him a couple of times. You probably came here to find out top-secret info about him, or to see photos that weren’t already posted somewhere else, or something. I don’t have the inside scoop, searchers. This isn’t a Spencer Reid blog. Yes, you could make the argument that it might be more interesting if it was; and, depending on the day, your argument might be a good one.  

I do have to say, though, I’m 99% sure that there aren’t too many socially-awkward, borderline-autistic FBI geniuses in real life who are actually models. I know, I don’t mean to blow your mind, or anything, but the real life person who plays Spencer Reid, Matthew Gray Gubler, used to model. He’s just that pretty. The man has the most classic bone structure I’ve ever seen. 

What? Why are you screaming profanities at me? Oh, you think Spencer Reid is REAL? Oh. Oh, that’s nice. Oh, I wasn’t aware you were a crazy. I’m sorry. I should have known because no one searching for Matthew Gray Gubler showed up here. If you think he’s real, how has it never occurred to you that his mom is Sue Sylvester from Glee? Do you think Sue is also a schizophrenic mental patient when she’s not coaching cheerleading? 
See? Proof. This is Matthew Gray Gubler modeling. Do you think Dr. Spencer Reid would do this? It would make him too nervous and he would go read in the corner. 

Oh, ok, fine. You want Dr. Spencer Reid because the real person makes you nervous and you think (as, listen, we all do, that’s why all of us geek girls have such a raging crush on him) that you would have more of a chance with Dr. Spencer Reid. Fine. Here. For you. 

Spencer Reid: 
Spencer Reid and his mother: 
Spencer Reid with glasses: 
YOU’RE WELCOME. Don’t say I never gave you anything. Just keep in mind that HE BELONGS TO ME AND AMANDA AND YOU CAN’T HAVE HIM. 

To the astronomically high number of people who got here with creepy searches related to Zak Bagans from Ghost Adventures: 

I hope you’re happy. It’s because of you people I am having problems sleeping at night. WHY ARE SO MANY OF YOU SEARCHING FOR THIS DOUCHEBAG.  

Is it the hair? The greasy, oddly-sculpted hair? Or the Ed Hardy shirts? Or the muscles? I mean, I guess it might be the muscles. He is muscley, in that “I spend more time at the gym than I do anything else, bro” kind of way. Is that hot? I guess it must be, to some people? Is it the bad acting? Is it the fact that HE NEVER REALLY FINDS A GHOST? What the hell is wrong with you people? 

This is the list of searches that I’ve seen over the last month. Each of these was searched by more than one person. Some of them by DOUBLE-DIGITS of people. No, I’m not kidding. I wish I was.

Zak Bagans hair
Zak Bagans puppy
Zak Bagans body
Zak Bagans half possessed
Zak Bagans leg tattoos

Put in a list like this, it’s even more horrible to contemplate than I’d imagined. It’s like a poem from hell.  

Listen. I know you came here by accident because I put ONE photo, ONE TIME, of this jackass on my blog. And it was to emphasize how stupid his hair is. That’s it. I am not a fan of this person. I am actually the opposite of a fan. I OPENLY MOCK HIM. A few days ago, I found out he’d written a book. A book! An actual book! And I wrote that on Twitter, and made fun of that fact, because I could not imagine what a book written by someone who seems to communicate entirely using “Dude” and “Bro” would consist of. AND A ZAK BAGANS FAN SITE RETWEETED THE TWEET. No, not a ‘bot, although that would have made me feel a little better. It was some teeny-bopper kid who seems to spend her life tweeting alternately about how much she loves Zak and retweeting anything anyone says about him (and being unable to differentiate between positive and negative things being said about him – there IS such a thing as bad publicity, honey) and talking about her life. She uses a lot of stars and LOLs. So I’m pretty sure it’s a real person. Or a ‘bot very good at impersonating one.   

I realize I’m actually giving this asshat publicity by talking about him right now, but I’m secure in the knowledge that it’s not really TMZ I’m writing for, here. A million people aren’t going to read this. Even on my best day, I only got about 150 hits. 

I will now go down your list for you, searchers, and explain to you why looking at it makes me want to scream “MY EYES! MY EYESSSSS!” 

Zak Bagans hair: is upsetting. And gelled to architecturally impossible heights. And when he gets going on his ghost adventures, it starts falling down and looking messier and messier and funnier and he kind of looks like he got caught in the rain and it was not kind to him. Douche meter (on a scale of 1-10) 8 

Zak Bagans puppy: according to Google, Zak (I’m still not entertained by the fact that he doesn’t have a “c” in his name, every time I type it I want to fix it, it just LOOKS affected) has a puppy named Ripley he is teaching to hunt ghosts. Don’t fear, PETA. The Ghost Adventures crew has never found a ghost. Ripley is in NO DANGER. Douche meter - 6 

Zak Bagans body: he’s annoyingly muscled, and he knows it. He wears super-tight Ed Hardy t-shirts and pants that fall off his ass to show off this fact. You know what I like? Beer guts. Because they show that a man likes the finer things in life. Bacon, cheese, and bread. Douche meter - 5 

Zak Bagans half possessed: we’ve already discussed this. It wasn’t pretty. Well, ZAK thought he was pretty. Because it was a LADY ghost. Douche meter - 10 

Zak Bagans leg tattoos: I refuse to do a Google search for these on the grounds that they will infect my computer with a douche virus and that’s hard to clear up. Once you let a douche in, it’s tenacious. I’m sure they’re awful. I’m thinking tribal tattoos. Or possibly people’s names in graffiti-style. Or just the word “Dude” repeated over and over and over so he doesn’t forget his lines on the show. Douche meter - 8 

My problem is this: I don’t understand what people find attractive these days. Justin Bieber? Zak Bagans? Am I completely out of my mind that people find these people to be sex objects? Justin Bieber doesn’t seem to have gone through puberty yet! This is creepy! I mean, I guess it’s ok that little girls are all squealy over him, but it’s worrisome! And Zak Bagans? Really? I mean, there are a million other options on television I could point out as better choices for you who have equally hot bodies. I can’t point out anyone for you with hair like that, though. I don’t know if there IS anyone else with hair quite like that. It’s a feat, that hair. It’s something you have to see to imagine. 

So, people who came here by accident this month: some of you I’m cool with. Some of you are making me extremely worried and I kind of want to take you out to lunch and tell you “this is an intervention” and show you episodes of True Blood until you transfer your affections onto Alexander Skarsgard or something. 

Best wishes to you all. And be careful out there. The safest place is probably with Zak Bagans. There are NEVER any ghosts where he is.

Love, Me. 

(As always, thank you to Mer for the inspiration for the post!)

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Thank you for commenting! I love your comments and I love YOU. No, not you. Yes, YOU. But listen up, chumley. If you make a dumbass comment, I am not posting it. I allow pretty much everything, so if your comment does not show up? Assume it was too stupid for me to even contemplate posting. Assume it was SO STUPID that even READING it would, by extension, make the IQ level of my amazing and brilliant readers drop by 30 points and deprive them of their Mensa status. And we just cannot have that, can we. SO STOP, THINK, AND DO NOT BE A DOUCHECANOE.