Thursday, Apr. 25, 2002
You know, I've TRIED to hide the fact that I'm a churning, bubbling cauldron of searing sexuality.
No. Really. I have.
I've handed my hot, sexy bitch tiara on to Kehla, but Google has decided that I can run, but I can't hide.
Oh yes, Google keeps unmasking my Inner Jezebel.
You want big woman sex? Honey, as far as Google is concerned, I am numero uno. Oh yes, I OWN big woman sex.
Just think of me as the Incredible Hulkette of Sex.
Only not green.
You may be saying to yourself, "Sure, Marn's a size queen, but what does she know about the wild jungle lovin'?" Ask and ye shall be told.
Okay, so I'm not number one, but this morning I'm in the top ten of monkeys sex and really, when we're talking the hot, unbridled animalistic passions, we're talking the monkeys sex, right?
Still have your doubts? Hey, my appeal is international. Google is telling Italian men that when they're looking for old sex ladies they're looking for me.
Wait a minute.
This Is Not Good.
One minute you're a hot sexy bitch, the next you're an old sex lady.
Why didn't anyone warn me this would happen? I ... I ... I am overcome with emotion.
Being a caring, sensitive, search engine, Google KNEW that I was going to need friends to pull me through this identity crisis, and it has pointed the way.
Now you might think that the question where can I buy an inflatable alien would not be relevant to propping up the fragile ego of a tender blossom such as myself, but go ahead, look at the number one result.
See what it says? See the company's promo line?
"Buy yourself some real friends!"
See, all my problems solved with a quick rattling off of the numbers on my VISA card.
Really, whatever would we do without the search engines to point the way, eh?
Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -
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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine. Kids, don't try viewing this at home without Netscape 6 or IE 4.5+, a screen resolution of 800 X 600 and the font Mead Bold firmly ensconced on your hard drive.
©2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.