March 15, 2005
The Name Game
The Name Game
As regular readers of this humble “weblog” well know, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” will do almost anything to ensure that we receive more e-traffic. Short of improving the quality of our material, of course.And, to be sure, we have come up with some cockamamie ideas to increase our hits in the past; perhaps our witless listing of pornographic words intended to lull unsuspecting lascivious Googlers took the cake.
Still, we, unlike Paris Hilton, aren’t licked yet. For some reason, we’re a veritable cornucopia of half-baked schemes designed to attract “web-browsers.”
In fact, the Official Half-Baked Schemes Department here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” recently pinpointed a brilliant idea. And we figured that today’s the day to give it a whirl.
As savvy explorers of Al Gore’s World-Wide Web no doubt recognize, pretty much everyone in the industrialized world engages in something we’d like to call, for lack of a better word, auto-Googling.
What, you may be asking yourselves, is auto-Googling? Well, it’s kind of like auto-eroticism, except far less randy. Basically, dear reader, auto-Googling is the art of looking up one’s own name on Google, and meandering through the “websites” that mention you.
We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” have come to realize that every non-autistic member of the First World engages in this practice: Many of our “weblog’s” hits come from people who are clearly engaged in auto-Googling. Either that, or they all have stalkers. Which, if you take a quick look at them, isn’t bloody likely.
A few short days after we have penned a post ripping into some unknown yokel, this person heads to our “website” after an auto-Googling session. That’s how such infamous no-names as Tracey Blevins and Bridget Newman’s vagina have happened upon “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly.”
So how, you may be asking yourself, is this humble “weblog” going to use auto-Googling to its own advantage? We, dear reader, are darn glad you asked.
We figured we’d offer a post filled with random people’s names, which offer scandalous tidbits about them. Once they catch their names on Google, they’ll head over to our humble musings faster than you can say Alta Vista. Frankly, we think the idea is nothing short of brilliant. (Then again, we thought the LA Clippers were a good idea.)
Without much in the way of further ado, then, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are pleased as peevish panjandrums to present:
The First Official Auto-Googling Lodestone:
Man, we couldn’t believe that Ryan Baker is such a pompous jerk. But we were particularly distressed to find out that he slept with Michael York of Engelwood Cliffs, New Jersey. Who knew they were gay? Perhaps the pinky rings gave it away.
Tracey Higgins is a real slut. Derek Smith told us that he saw her last night with Rick Carpenter. Hopefully her doctor, Earl Kipling, will remove that wart on her bottom.
God bless Hector Torres! We thought that we’d never praise a man who exposes himself to helpless old ladies. But, as far as we’re concerned, Judy Mazilli of Ogden, Massachusetts had it coming.
Jim Stonefeld sure has terrible taste. And he’s practically the poster boy for halitosis too. We caught him leaving a record store the other week flanked by two midgets, and clutching three Kenny G albums.
Well, dear reader, that ought to do it. We’ll just sit back and watch the hits roll in.
