Category Archive
The following is a list of all entries from the Puggles and Their Antecedents category.
Um. Yup.
So. You guys know that when I so confidently bellowed, “See you next year!” in my last post, what I really meant was, “See you a full year from now and, oh, gosh, have I mentioned that I’m awfully lazy and a bit of a goober?”
Of course you did. You guys are so smart. I love you all.
It is a new year. And a new resolution. Weekly Shocks shall arise from the ashes like a phoenix from a burning waste dump. Gosh, does that ever stink.
Speaking of stink, guess who lives in New York City now?
But I kid the teeming metropolis of the whole damn universe. Please don’t hurt me, New York.
Happy New Year, my people. Did you miss the puggles?
Puggle Update: Part The Second, or, You Guys Are Filthy
I love you all. Really, I do. But, for f*ck’s sake, people.
Search Engine Terms
These are terms people used to find your blog.
Today
Search Views
puggle penis size 1
No. A thousand times, no.
Wanna see what made me bellow “Holy cow!” today?
Sure you do. It’s this photo:
His name is Boomer. He weighs 180lbs and is seven feet tall, nose to tail. He may very well be the tallest living canine in the world. I’m still pretty sure my 8lb Pomeranian rat dog could kick his ass, but he’s a super cutie. I bet he fetches entire trees instead of wimpy, pointless sticks. Good boy!
As a “Holy cow!” side note: I’m still averaging about 20-30 puggle-search related hits per day. Almost none of these people comment on my blog. I imagine they’re just as confused by Weekly Shocks as I am. We should form a support group.
Another inspired “WTF?!?” moment, courtesy of Weekly Shocks’ blog stats.
For your pondering pleasure:
Search Engine Terms
These are terms people used to find your blog.
Today
| Search | Views |
|---|---|
| puggle | 3 |
| zoo weekly penis explode story | 1 |
Wow.
More Rubbish
Yes, yes, I am well aware of the fact that I’ve been a bit remiss on the substantive posts lately (and yes, I know that “substantive” is not a word one should ever use to accurately describe the contents of this blog). However, I’ve been so gosh darn busy with my real life that I’m too exhausted to go back and fix the obvious and disgusting split infinitive in that last parenthetical phrase, let alone post something that isn’t complete crap. Oh, the weary life of a grad student with deadlines! Pity me.
OK, enough work-related caterwauling. Enjoy some random thoughts on recent rubbish. Hopefully it’ll hold you whiny bastards until King Dissertation is submitted (please don’t hit, only kidding, I love you all):
1) The last quasi-decent post I wrote vaguely referenced my return to the UK. Coming through EU immigration is always a treat for dirty foreigners like me. I always, always seem to end up in the queue filled with every petty criminal in the whole damn world along with their falsified passports, their forged visas, and their cocaine-filled anal balloons, and every single one of them is indignant and outraged when they’re denied entrance into the UK. It never fails. It’s either the Bellowing and Bellicose Criminal Queue or the March of the Idiots, in which every person is drunk/half-asleep/recovering from a lobotomy/huffing paint thinners. I generally don’t like policing people’s behavior too stridently, but seeing some of the idiocy that occurs while people are waiting in line for passport inspection kind of makes me wish the government would issue an IQ test before allowing passengers on planes. My favorite idiot in the sky story actually comes from a friend of mine who swears that, while at Heathrow patiently awaiting his criminal inspection and anal probe, a very annoyed, braincell-deficient young lady flounced into the queue and whined to her friend, “Oh my god. That other lady was such a bitch! Like, how was I supposed to know that the US isn’t in the EU?”
Oh, help.
2) I, of course, should not snicker too loudly at the moronic behavior of others, because yesterday, in a fit of rage and impatience (two emotions I generally don’t experience all that often, I must say, which I’m gonna go ahead and use as the sole excuse for the following mind-boggling inanity), I tore apart my room in a futile search for my keys before giving up, frustrated and sweaty, then slumped to the floor muttering a series of rather interesting and colorful curses I shan’t repeat here. A sharp pain in my bottom region reminded me that I had stored the keys in my back pocket fifteen minutes earlier. I deserved that pain-in-the-ass, quite frankly.
3) Speaking of pain-in-the-ass, King Dissertation is reaching his final stages. I’ve come up with all kinds of creative ways to avoid finishing him, mostly because he’s starting to send me into a series of nervous twitches every time I open up Microsoft Word and he stares up at me with his toothy, shit-eating grin. Bastard. Anyway, two days ago, I decided it would be a good time to rearrange my bedroom. Why not? I didn’t get very far, though, because my bed is heavier than a dead cow on a pogo stick, and I couldn’t move the damn thing more than two feet before my back decided to go on vacation and give out, leaving only a knife-like spasm in its stead. The spasm refused to help move the bed and he didn’t like the idea of going back to King Dissertation either, so we took a nap instead. I probably should have started out with that activity and avoided the whole mess to begin with. Oh well: live and learn.
Also, I only added that third little random item because I really, really like the phrase “heavier than a dead cow on a pogo stick.” And I think I actually made it up all by myself, too. Hooray! Wonder if I can somehow work that into King Dissertation. Hmmm….
And, finally, because I really do love you all, a present: chocolate-flavored puggle. Awww.
Well, aren’t I a GRADE A MORON!
See, I should know better by now. I really should. Yet I go ahead and do it anyway. I write stupid blog posts about Viagra and Cialis and other products designed to embarrass me when they are advertised on television during quality time with my eight-year-old niece. And it’s inevitable that Google picks up this post, and now I have all kinds of sad folks landing here, innocently searching the web for simple, sweet things like “penis performance” hoping that somehow Weekly Shocks can help them please their ladies. To all those who came here for that purpose, I deeply apologize. I got nuthin’. Lots of stuff on puggles, though. May want to check that out. Chicks dig puggles, trust me.
Now, why the hell have I just gone and written another damn post about naughty drugs?! What the hell is wrong with me?! Must seek therapy in the future when I’ve finally made contact with my Level 15 Magic Elf and we find The Charm Bracelet in the Forest Dune. Off to finish my quest, my good people. Wish me luck.
First Puggle, Now Penis? WHAT IS THIS BLOG COMING TO?!?!
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a little on the weird side and I subsequently attract and enjoy all kinds of weird stuff, but, honestly, this is is getting to be a bit much even for me.
Some of you may notice that I moderate comments here on good ole Weekly Shocks. It’s nothing personal, I promise, it’s just that certain family members of mine occasionally read this blog (hi Mom!) and certain friends of mine (you bastards know who you are) like to take advantage of that fact and write things that I’d rather my pure-as-the-driven-snow loved ones not see. Gotta keep up appearances and all that. Besides that, though, the oodles of junk mail that I seem to collect in my seventeen hundred email accounts have somehow migrated to the comments section of this blog. I am quickly and inexplicably becoming a repository for Viagra, Cialis, VigRX, and other naughty devices designed to improve your happy areas.
In all sincerity and with all due respect, what the hell?! I can deal with the odd and charming puggle-seekers. I can smile wryly over the occasional bizarre and mildly disturbing internet searches that land people here (latest favorites: “waste dump,” “fart protector,” and “why catholics [are] going to hell.”) I can and do adore the witty and charming comments posted here by the bright and engaging masses (keep ’em coming, folks!). But seriously: what about this blog suggests that the author requires manhood treatment?! Am I coming across as that insecure, that needy, that male?! Bugger it all to hell, people! I am very happy with my completely normal-size-for-my-situation penis. In fact, if it were any bigger, I may run into some very real trouble in my personal life (heh heh…shuffles nervously…coughs…). I’d also have to field many awkward questions from my primary health care provider and would most likely end up being referenced extensively in the New England Journal of Medicine. Then, I’d have to fulfill my inevitable destiny, and join a circus! But I’m not ready for that yet! None of these options really fits into my busy procrastination schedule right now, so, please, move on! Back off, penis people! SO NOT INTERESTED!
OK, deep breaths.
Anyway, let’s keep the weirdness of this blog a bit on the wholesome side, shall we? For example, wanna guess what I’ve been hooked on lately? Old episodes of Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego! And how amazing was that theme song?! Now there’s an obsession I think we can all enjoy before getting the song irretrievably stuck in our heads, going mental, and swinging from the rooftops in Scooby-Doo underoos and pickaxes!
If you just can’t get behind the Carmen Sandiego craze (you soulless prole), please remember the following simple guidelines. This is ok:
This, not so much:
Choose wisely.
The Puggle Stalker Returns!
Ahem:
Search Engine Terms
These are terms people used to find your blog.
Today
| Search | Views | |
|---|---|---|
| puggle | 43 |  |
| puggles | 2 | |
Hooray!
(Check out this, this, this, and this if you’re confused. Or just continue in your confusion if you prefer. You’re cute when you don’t know what the hell is going on. Not as cute as puggles, of course, but you gotta make do.)
Puggle Update
Despite some of my blogged assertions to the contrary, I’d like to think I’m not a complete and total loser in real life. I do have a lovely family and some wonderful, bizarrely funny friends who seem to genuinely enjoy both my company and my admittedly wry sense of humor. In fact, I’m pretty darn cool, aren’t I? Heck, I’m da bomb! I’m good enough, smart enough, and, doggone it, people like me!
And speaking of dogs, one of my friends who occasionally follows my goofy blog with utter bemusement asked how things were going with my puggle stalker. I have to say that my hybrid dog-obsessed reader seems to have wandered off to greener, perhaps puggier pastures. This actually makes me a little sad. There were a few days after I wrote my last puggle-related post where the Weekly Shocks’ internet search hits for ‘puggle’ were absolutely obscene, and I was frankly a bit creeped out. I decided to stop mentioning the Puggle Mystery, hoping this weirdo would take the hint and go away.
My strategy seemed to have worked: the hits tapered off gradually, and now I kind of miss my perpetually anonymous internet circus freak. It always added a bit of excitement to my day when I checked my stats and came across double digit figures for this completely incongruous item of interest. It made me a little happy that I was providing some potentially insane person with just a little joy and comfort in these dark and uncertain times. Besides, how can your heart of stone not crumble a little at the sight of the wee, charming creatures? I dare you to look at the following and not exclaim, in girlish delight, “AWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!”
I think I’ve proved my point.
Please come back, Mr or Ms Puggle-Lover: I miss you. Unless, of course, you’re doing really, really horrible and unwholesome things to puggles, like dressing them in clown suits or carrying them in oversized purses, in which case GET HELP. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?! Were you not hugged often enough as a child?!? Freak! Creepy, repulsive, animated Troll Doll! GO AWAY!
Puggle Mystery: Still Unsolved
Well, then! After my last post about Internet search engines, puggles, and blogging, I’m still no closer to unmasking my puggle-loving reader, who remains coy yet determined: today, the word ‘puggle’ was entered five times in search engines leading to this blog. A bit odd, yes, slightly worrying, sure: but I am not complaining. After all, puggles sure do bring in the blog hits – The Things You Learn While Blogging was far and away the most popular blog post I’ve ever made, smashing my second-highest rated entry by more than fifty viewings. Keep that in mind if you’re trying to boost traffic to your own blog, folks. PUGGLES. Puggles are the answer.
And special thanks to Jennifer for introducing me to the magic of Google Alerts and whose own puggle-based blog should satisfy all of your adorable hybrid-dog viewing needs.
On a non-puggle related note (sincere apologies to those of you who are here strictly for the puggles – feel free to leave now), this week begins The Annual Birthday Hell in Weekly Shocks’ World. It seems as if every blood relative I have, not to mention a fair few friends as well, have decided to get together and plot against me in the most intensive, wallet-destroying conspiracy imaginable by having all of their birthdays between now and the end of this month. I’m still suffering from post-Christmas detox, my darling loved ones! Have mercy! But they don’t care. Not at all. Seriously, what the hell is it about February and birthdays? There are far better months for celebrating one’s arrival into the world, I believe. I’m personally partial to March, but, really, anything has to be better than this miserable, cold, gray and dreary month of interminable mud. Really, it’s so lame, it doesn’t even get a minimum of 30 days, like every other normal month in the calendar. Honestly, February, have you no self-respect, no decency? You’re pathetic, February, a mutant freak and unworthy of notice. Go away.
Branch out and have your children in different seasons, people. You’ll feel better, I promise. I know I will.
The Things You Learn While Blogging
I’ve been at this blogging thing for just under two months now. In the process, I’ve discovered you can learn some pretty odd things about people’s Internet behavior. WordPress has a nifty little tool that tells you the phrases or words people enter into search engines that somehow lead them to your blog. I love this feature. Since starting Weekly Shocks, people have found my little home on the intrawebs by searching for “The Popemobile,” crazy people [in] Oxford, tapeworms, “New England and bitching,” and – my personal favorite – “drunk while marking.” You folks are strange and wonderful and I love you for all your odd, Internet-abusing ways.
More recently, though, I’ve come across a bit of a search engine mystery. In the past day, someone has found this blog seven times by searching for the word ‘puggle.’ (I assume it’s one person who, for whatever reason, is fixated on the strange but adorable creatures.) Bemused and mildly paranoid that the one photo of a puggle I had on the site belonged to an enraged and overly-protective owner who now had my home address and lots of firearms, I got rid of the picture, and replaced it with an equally charming photo of a beagle. However, this doesn’t seem to be deterring the mysterious and dedicated Internet user, as another two ‘puggle’ hits were recorded on my blog today. Huh. Completely flummoxed, I googled the word ‘puggle’ myself, and went through, literally, twelve pages of hits before giving up, never once finding a reference to my blog. How in the hell is this person finding me? If you care to reveal yourself, dear reader, I promise many photos of puggles for your enjoyment, so long as you show me whatever magic trick you’re employing in landing here. I sense you have mighty powers. JOIN ME!
Odds and Ends
First, a very happy birthday to my younger sister. February 4th begins the awkward annual six-week period during which time she and I are technically the same age. I still find the pragmatics of this situation and all that it implies about my parents’ amorous relationship deeply disturbing, so I try not to think about it too much. Nevertheless, I love my sister very much and she shouldn’t have her birthday ignored simply because our parents were dirty-minded animals. Happy Birthday, Laur. (Love you too, Mom: I was just kidding about the ‘dirty-minded animals’ bit. Don’t hit!)
Second, I updated my ‘About Me’ page because I had some emails from very confused people wanting to know, quite reasonably, just who the hell did I think I was writing this damn blog. Apologies: hopefully the page clears up everything. Unless, of course, you actually know me in real life, in which case you probably still have questions about just who the hell I think I am, questions that no cheesy blog post can ever answer. I can provide no further elucidation on that topic, so, you’re kind of screwed. Sorry. I usually find that looking at pictures of beagle puppies makes me feel better when I’m confused, so please enjoy the following:
Awwww! Life makes sense again.
Finally, one of my childhood heroes, Michael J. Nelson, the mastermind behind RiffTrax as well as the former head writer and star of Mystery Science Theater 3000, has undertaken what some say is a bottomlessly stupid challenge to eat nothing but bacon for the entire month of February. Naysayers be damned: I think it is a noble homage to the often overlooked wholesomeness and glory of bacon, or, at the very least, a very amusing publicity stunt, so I support him in his quest. Like I said, the guy’s one of my childhood heroes. Anyway, follow his antics at The RiffTrax Blog.
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