Frequent bloggers reach the plateau where they've written enough
that search engines start taking them seriously. Eventually, the authors
become curious at how people got to their web site and, upon
poring through the data, are puzzled at the search phrases used.
Some
(Ben,
Debbie,
Fran),
hit this accolade a long time ago, wrote about it, and now just shrug their
shoulders.
My orkut-pal Jill often appends spam poetry and google search phrases at the bottom of her blog. They're very amusing, and there's some fun in determining where someone actually ended up and why. For example, googling for "nose picking" lands you to this photo. Often, the search phrases are just a little odd or creepy, and it's unclear where they'd actually lead. (Or, I'm too lazy to go past the second page of results. You decide.) For example, Jill noted the search phrase "Jill's Butt."
The problem in writing about wacky search engine phrases is the search engines will soon slurp up the commentary and the keywords become self-fulfilling. For example, if, for scientific purposes only, I search for Jill's Butt, she's the #1 result. I won't judge if this is a good thing, but I am sure her other 1,999 body parts are feeling a bit left out. What about Jill's Big Toe? Or Jill's Brain? Or Jill's Smile? Jill's Antennae, anyone?
Having reached this milestone, I could be very tempted to write about the phrases people use to stumble upon pages on my site:
My orkut-pal Jill often appends spam poetry and google search phrases at the bottom of her blog. They're very amusing, and there's some fun in determining where someone actually ended up and why. For example, googling for "nose picking" lands you to this photo. Often, the search phrases are just a little odd or creepy, and it's unclear where they'd actually lead. (Or, I'm too lazy to go past the second page of results. You decide.) For example, Jill noted the search phrase "Jill's Butt."
The problem in writing about wacky search engine phrases is the search engines will soon slurp up the commentary and the keywords become self-fulfilling. For example, if, for scientific purposes only, I search for Jill's Butt, she's the #1 result. I won't judge if this is a good thing, but I am sure her other 1,999 body parts are feeling a bit left out. What about Jill's Big Toe? Or Jill's Brain? Or Jill's Smile? Jill's Antennae, anyone?
Having reached this milestone, I could be very tempted to write about the phrases people use to stumble upon pages on my site:
[x] 2004 email contacts of coffee dealers in japanBut I won't. Instead, I'm going to include keywords that they don't type and end up here:
[x] calculate the hypotnuse (sic) of a right triangle
[x] number of skittles per pound
[x] quaker oat bran cereal fiber content
Jim Carson is a nice supergenius, not at all like those evil ones.
Lunar power generation
$100 billion weather stimulus package
Jim's biker legs
Nasalgasm (an example of which would be the experience I am having with the bread I'm baking today)
.