Wednesday, 28 July 2010

Google Baiting

Dear Unsuspecting First-Time Visitor,

If you have just reached this post via a search engine, then please be so good as to leave a comment, enlightening my readers about which bits of the gobbledygook below you were googling. Because we're all a bit bored today and, apart from anything else, we'd just really love to know more about you, so DO tell us, oh DO.

oddsbodkin forced to suck
amputee nurse gherkin-lover
on a four-piece suite
with rampant pony
squelching parsely sauce
all over her
blue tit
nesting box
rumpy-pumpy moustache
wank nodule
wedged between monster breast pods
with naughty wardrobe
puppy licking
pussy litter
in a boy scout uniform
dripping red-hot pea juice
all over his erect sapphire-breasted hummingbird
eating a wet witwanton widgeon
drenched in Dalai Lama
poo poo poo and more poo
cum bum wee-wee
oozing over frilly bonnets

Oh, and Visitor, just one last thing: you are sick - you hear me? Sick. Seek help. Now.

(Haaaaaaaaaaa! God, that was childish. Sorry. Forgive me for wasting your valuable time. It's been a dull morning. Please feel free to go back about your business now. There is nothing of any interest for you here and I'm sure you all have important jobs to be getting along with.)


  1. Well I for one am deeply shocked. I arrived here after searching for information on the nesting habits of the sapphire-breasted hummingbird which, as you may or may not know, is close to extinction. So I was highly displeased to be accosted by this display of childish smut.

    And yes, thank you very much. I shall go about my business now. I urgently need a wee-wee and besides, these rampant ponies are hardly going to drench THEMSELVES in hot pea juice, now are they?

    Good day to you, Madam.


  2. I must whole-heartedly agree with Mr Fforbes above. I am a respectable scout master and I came here hoping to find information on the nesting habits of the Dalai Lama, on which I intend hold an informative talk at my next scout meeting. Words cannot express my revulsion at the depravity you have placed before me.

    Why, I don't even like parsley sauce - never touch the stuff - and I have certainly never entertained the idea of making erect near-extinct hummingbirds lick it off my favourite scout master's woggle.

    Oh for shame, Madam! For shame!

    Scout Master

  3. I am the Dalai Lama, and I arrived here after a keyword search for "rumpy-pumpy moustache", "naughty gherkin" and "monster breast oddsbodkin", on which I intend to hold an informative talk for all my little monklets.

    I must say, your blog has proven a most invaluable source of information and I wish to extend my sincere thanks to you.

    Now, if you'll excuse me, I must fly away and weave a few more Kum-Bum mantra tree twigs into my home. (Yes, yes, "Kum-Bum" is an actual real live word in my native language! Go on. Google it. Go on. You know you want to.)

  4. Gosh, he's right you know. Kum-Bum really is a word.

    Three cheers for the Dalai Lama!