Gone with the [Search Term]

Using only search terms from your own blog, fill in the blanks below for this episode entitled: Gone with the [Search Term].

I will supply the first set.

All quotes are taken from Gone With the Wind.  Our scene is a plantation in Georgia at the time of The Civil War.  Our speakers are Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler.


Scarlett:  Great balls of fire. Don’t bother me anymore, and don’t call me __A___.

Scarlett:  But you are a blockade runner.
Rhett Butler:  For profit, and profit only.
Scarlett:  Are you tryin’ to tell me you don’t believe in the cause?
Rhett Butler:  I believe in __B__.

Scarlett:  Sir, you are no gentleman.
Rhett Butler:  And you, Miss, are __C___.

Rhett Butler:  With enough courage, you can do without __D__.

Scarlett:  Rhett! Rhett, where are you going?
Rhett Butler:  I’m going back to Charleston, back where I belong.
Scarlett:  Please, please take me with you!
Rhett Butler:   No, I’m through with everything here.

Scarlett:  Rhett, Rhett… Rhett, if you go, where shall I go? What shall I do?
Rhett Butler:  Frankly, my dear, __E___.


A.            origami turkey

B.            suntan on a beach

C.            anal

D.            a tardy little marionette

E.            I am appaulled about your service


Now it is your turn.

Romancing the [Search Term]

This chapter of Fallen Arches is based upon an idea from Rutabaga, the Mercenary Researcher, who wrote a post about search terms.  It is astonishing when reviewing your site stats to see the words and phrases used as search terms.

Using only search terms from your own blog, fill in the blanks in the story below.  You must use only the unaltered search terms.

I will supply the first set of fill-ins.


Our scene is set in London in the times of Victorian England.  A licentious and bawdy earl returns to his home for an afternoon of entertainment with his lovely maid.

Lord Farthblank, Eighth Earl of Disturbia, strode boldly into his bed chambers where he found his young and alluring maid anxiously waiting his return.  “Quickly, Maria, disrobe.  I have been told of an entirely new sexual technique called__A__ and my loins ache to try it out forthwith.”

“My lord” said the maid breathlessly “what does it involve?”

“Well,” said the earl slyly “I won’t divulge all the particulars but I will tell you that it calls for riding whips, two bananas, several garters and a __B__.”

As the young maid obediently began to disrobe, she turned back towards the earl as he finished removing his trousers.  The maid began to giggle uncontrollably.

“Whatever is the matter with you?” cried the earl.

“Oh” said the maid, “it is your member.  It is shaped just like a __C__.”

The earl, blushing, said defiantly “It most certainly is not.  If you must be so impertinent, young Maria, your breasts look like two __D__.”

“Oh, sire” exclaimed the maid.  “I am most distressed and can only say to you __E__.”


A.            Frankenstein rising

B.            human trebuchet

C.            clownfish

D.            organs that have folds

E.            was man who was hit by ice cream truck while dancing in the street hurt


Now it is your turn.


Le Clown – The Nuclear Option

Well, folks, this is it. It’s the last post that I will make in this eternal, nefarious, diabolical contest put on by A Clown on Fire.

Tomorrow, back to regular programming.

Today, one last desperate effort to retain points – my sanity is long gone – in this preposterous Promethean effort.

I am losing ground and have no choice but to go for it all – the nuclear option. I threatened to reveal webcams photos of Le Clown if necessary and since my “dare” in today’s Dare and Question contest went over like a screen door on a submarine, I am left with reckless measures. You asked for this, Le Clown:


It is finished! (…but I may have improved your love life.)

A Photo-Clown Finish

Once again, I interrupt my irregularly scheduled posts to announce that I am wickedly addicted to this blogroll contest on A Clown on Fire.  I used to be a normal, grouchy, half-baked crusty bastard who fondly remembers spending his weekends yelling at neighbors and spitting invectives at young kids and pets.

Now look what I’m reduced to:


How badly am I chained to this contest?  So much so that I have allowed Le Clown and his sidekicks to lure me into the final round of competition by asking that I put a photo on my blog linked back to Le Clown.

These lame adventures of a giraffe on rollers gives me no fear of weebles, but I still feel under the spell of a ringmistress.

What, pray tell, do I gain by “winning” this contest?  No less than an honored place on Le Clown’s blogroll!!

How much do I covet this spot?  The pictures tell it all:

Me without a spot on Le Clown’s blogroll:

Me with a place on Le Clown’s blogroll:

So visit his damned blog and wish me Godspeed, my friends, wish me Godspeed!