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i'm probably happier not knowing

i like to check what search terms lead to my blog, because, along with tracking which posts are the most popular, it's a good way of gauging what readers would like to see more of. some terms, of course, are just linked to a popular image that shows up high in google searches. others are actually indicative of what people are looking for. searches for dark coloured lipsticks- whether specific shades or in general- often lead here, which makes sense. searches for information on specific mental disorders often lead here, because of the currently dormant "mental health mondays" posts. i get that.

others are a little stranger, like "how do i apply lipstick from the tube?" or "where is my bipolar located?"

and others still are downright disturbing. you don't want to know how many searches for "anorexic porn" end up here. [specifically ending up on the "mental health mondays" piece about anorexia, which does have a nude, but clearly medical in nature, picture with it.]

and then there is this week's winner:

"rick santorum poop"

i'd just about recovered from the daily searches for either rick santorum or mitt romney gay porn, which, if it exists, would never, ever, ever, ever be posted here because i don't want to do that to you. or to myself. [although that's different than posting a picture of santo made from gay porn, which i have done. because that's just made of awesome. and penises.] but the idea that someone- correction- multiple someones- are out there searching for internet evidence of caca di santo is the sort of thing that makes me afraid to leave my house in the morning. do i know these people? have i shaken hands with them? what are they going to do with the results if their search is successful? what made them search for this in the first place?

so many questions. and there are probably answers to all of them. honest, disturbing answers.

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eat the cup 2018, part seven :: oh, lionheart

it all seemed so magical: england's fresh-faced youngsters marching all the way through to a semi-final for the first time since 1990. everywhere, the delirious chants of "it's coming home". and then, deep into added time, the sad realization: it's not coming home. oh england, my lionheart.

now, if we're being really strict about things, my scottish ancestors would probably disown me for supporting England, because those are the bastards who drove them off their land and sent them packing to this country that's too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. and indeed, shops in scotland have sold through their entire stock of croatian jerseys, as the natives rallied behind england's opponents in the semi-final. however, a few generations before they were starved and hounded from the lands they'd occupied for centuries, my particular brand of scottish ancestors would have encouraged me to support england [assuming that national football had even…

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friday favourites 20.07.12

i was almost going to skip it this week. not out of any disinterest, but i always feel weird posting something flip and cheeky on days when the news is choked with stories of some location filled with people going about their lives suddenly getting shot up by a lone maniac with some sort of personal gripe or agenda.

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what h…