The ex-boyfriend post, by inadvertent request.

One of the cool things about that dandy new green Lijit search bar in my right column is the ability to see what people are searching for on my site.

Which is not to be confused with what people are searching for to get to my site.

(Let’s just say I am proud to appear in the first natural Google results for “big buts.” Only I’m afraid the searchers will be disappointed when they arrive on a post about pregnancy and toxoplasmosis and not some sort of flabby ass porn. Sucks for you. Learn to spell.)

So I was interested to learn that there have been quite a few searches on Mom-101 recently for “old flame” and “ex-lover.” And I’m trying to discern exactly which old flame or ex-lover (ew, as if I’d ever use that term ever in a zillion years) is so vain as to think this song is about him.

In a way, I feel like I’ve disappointed the poor guy, who came all the way here just to find the most trivial references to talking toys and magic breakfast cereal and midwestern hair but nothing about the glorious weeks and months we may have spent in each other’s blissful companionship.

So this one’s for you, Seth, Andrew, Doug, Scott, David, Lex, Michael, Paul, Brian, Jim, Jim, Jimmy, James, the other Jim, and whatshisname from summer camp:

Oh baby. You were the best. No really. I think about you day and night and have to stop myself from writing bad poetry to you every free moment I get. In fact, for the last [you fill in the number here] years, I’ve had this recurring dream about you, me, three other women, and some artificially flavored whipped dairy topping. Also? Yes, I am the same weight now as I was [you fill in the number here] years ago when we dated, and my boobs haven’t changed a bit. Too bad things never worked out.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled complaining about lack of sleep.

[photo: joel hall for redbubble]

{29 Comments}

29 thoughts on “The ex-boyfriend post, by inadvertent request.”

  1. Maybe it was your ex-flame's current flame.

    Also, now someone is searching your flatulence. Awesome.

  2. Thanks for the Monday morning laugh!

    And for what it's worth, I think MY boobs have gotten better with age and breastfeeding. No, really. So has my but.

  3. I realize we've never met, but I'm going to pretend that's to me too. *laugh*

    I like big buts and I can not lie… (that's the only line I know, sorry, and oddly enough my word verification is “mixtr”. As in Sir “mixtr”lot.)

  4. Maybe they were searching for your “unfriended” post?

    I still can't figure out why “Large Newborn Dick” is my #1 Lijit search.

    Figure I should just be proud and carry on.

  5. HAHAHA YESSSSSSSS. If I wrote an ex-boyfriend post it would not be that sexy and dairy-filled.

  6. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! This was hilarious.

    You have way more ex-boyfriends than I have.

    Whore.

    Totally kidding. I am just jealous. I think I was doused in man-repellent in college. 🙂

  7. Loralee, I was waiting for someone to call me out on that.

    Let's just say I was doused in husband repellent until 35.

  8. OK, so I got to your blog by your story on what's your blog worht. I tried to subscribe, but couldn't find a way, so put you in my google reader so I don't loose you. Great, great, great posts. Also, you've got a wicked sense of humor. I can tell that stopping by here regularly to see what is up will be my latest guilty pleasure. Rock on.

  9. hysterical. I write a food blog called the skinny gourmet and I published a post called What is Food Porn?

    http://skinnygourmet.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-is-food-porn.html

    And somehow for a couple weeks I showed up on the first page of google results for “skinny porn.” That alone wasn't so surprising, but the several hundred people who would search for that term, see my results and lick on it was a little beyond me. Amazing what the web will turn up.

  10. You dated Seth! Envious, here. Total hottie. And so terribly sweet. Still hot, from his pictures on FB. Just riding in a car with him was enough to make me swoon. Mmmm.

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