Top Search Terms to Find My Blog

But first a word from our sponsor. FREE ON AMAZON FROM JANUARY 2ND TILL JANUARY 5TH. Many of you may find this offensive but, coming from me, what else is new but I have another book available for your reading pleasure.

So many stories from the Bible make absolutely no sense and I decided it was my life’s duty to compile them into one glorious volume of hilarity. I mean the material was practically handed to me and I couldn’t resist.

I offer my commentary on Lot, a pretty big deal with God, banging and impregnating his daughters. Like if there was a picture of Lot with God, God would be flashing a thumbs up at this guy.

God clearly hates women too. I have a whole chapter dedicated to God’s disdain for the fairer sex.

Available on Amazon. Just click on the book.

slanderingGod

The Top Search Terms to Find My Blog

So I’ve been doing this blogging thing for almost a year now. It would be pretty cool if I weren’t about fifteen years behind the rest of the world but I’m old and slow to adopt. In spite of being behind the curve, I find this whole blogging thing fascinating. At first I thought it would be fun to just write about some of my Top 5 lists, for no other reason but to see what I came up with. Then people actually started reading this stuff and even more amazingly, digging it. Because I loved the reception, I decided to write about anything that came into my head and conjured up even a modicum of emotion. In reality, a lot of things piss me off and I enjoy complaining which provides me with a never ending fountain of material.

The most fascinating aspect of this experience has to be the list my hosting company provides me of search terms used to find my website. The list is rather extensive and you may or may not be surprised to hear that not one of them is even the least bit flattering.

Years ago I read an article making the claim that porn was responsible for 80% of the internet traffic. If that 80% figure was an accurate number back then, then today, based on what I see, in my own little blog world, that figure is 99%. 99% of the terms used to search the internet, causing people to stumble onto jpshaversays.com are porn related. I’m not sure why this is because I don’t write about porn. No doubt, knowing myself quite well, I have made mention of porn but I’ve posted no raunchy pictures nor have I gone into any detail on donkey sex in Tijuana. No, what I believe is going on here is that, like I said, 99% of the searching done on sites like Google are regular people, aka perverts, hell bent on a massive electronic poon quest. Sure you have your standard searches for “how do I get my husband to share his feelings” or “I want to know more about wine without becoming a pretentious douche,” but those are outnumbered almost 100 to 1 by, “how to get in my girlfriends butt” and “erasing my browsing history.”

Retard

I realize that I use this politically incorrect and offensive term too often in my writing and in my regular life but, let’s face it, it’s quite descriptive and funny at the same time. The number one search term in this category is “retard.” Okay, I get this one. I checked and I’ve used this word over one-hundred times in just under forty blog posts but most of the time, in my defense, it was quite apropos. Though the time I referred to Hitler as a retard may be construed as offensive to the actual retard.

In second place, “retard people” and “retard boy” are tied in some kind of race between grammatical troglodytes. The proper linguistic terms would be “retarded people” and retarded boy.” Duh. There is something strikingly ironic about an idiot Googling the word “retard” using improper grammar. Was it a hunt for self-help possibly?

Gary Dean Prewitt Money Laundering

I would have written this off as a simple mistake had it not happened over a dozen times. It’s not one of the biggest words in terms of sheer volume in finding my blog but it is by far the strangest. Who in the hell is Gary Dean Prewitt and why is he in my blog? I’ve never once mentioned him or money laundering. If I alone have over a dozen hits on the Prewitt guy there must be thousands of people on the hunt for the straight poop on felonious doings.

I Googled it and couldn’t even find anything so…

Porno

There are so many porn related terms used to find jpshaversays.com that to list them here would take more words than you have attention to give so I’m going to stick to the most prevalent, weird and of course, perverse.

The first smut password granting entrance into my blog is the confusing phrase, “song then porno.” What does this even mean and why does it find its destination in my blog so many times? What is the intent of this search? Near as I can guess, these people need to be transitioned into their hardcore porn obsession with a nice tune. A seamless transition with none of that annoying extra clicking that comes with so many other “song then porno” sites. Like, “I just want to hit this button once, hear a nice song, maybe some smooth jazz then go straight to my Asian midget anal fisting melange. Is that too much to ask for? Dammit!”

These next two are more specific to my name, which at least adds some relevance but are no less confusing. “Porno JP,” My first thought was that some people, hot chicks, of course, so enjoyed my writing that they immediately thought that they must see if there are any nude pictures of me on the internet. Kind of like when you do a quick search to see if there are any nude shots of the new Bond girl. Fortunately, there are no nudies of me out there. I’m a pretty snappy dresser so it’s best that photos of me are of the clothed variety. The sheer volume of ear hair that I have to wrestle with on a daily basis should serve as a harbinger to anyone looking for more of me to immediately halt all proceedings. Yet and still, I have no idea what “porno JP” means.

“shaver porno,” I think I can format an idea in my head as to what these people had in mind with this search because it also fell in with, “shaver box” and “shaver vag.” I think what horrifies me more than anything, including the references to porn in my name, is the atrocious grammar used by these desperately horny people to discover their odd form of electronic carnal pleasure. It’s “shave her porno” you idiot not “shaver porno!” I not too worried about my fine name being sullied by association with this crowd though as I’m pretty sure that when these “titans of wisdom” hit the first polysyllabic word on my site, they clicked out to rejoin their quest for shorn genitals.

I’ve saved my favorite one for last. It reads like a mother’s desperate and tragic search for help for her sexually maligned son. This phrase, “son couldn’t take anymore porn” has led to my website more than fifty times and, let’s face it, jpshaversays.com is not visited like say an ESPN.com would be. If over fifty people have stumbled onto jpshaversays.com searching for “son couldn’t take anymore porn” then there are a lot of hurting mothers out there.

What happened to this poor “son” who “couldn’t take anymore porn?” Did he spend so much time in front of the computer looking at porn so withdrawn from the world that his penis exploded? Did he turn into a zombie vegetable with a permanent erection? Something major happened to this poor kid and we are left to only guess at what tragedy befell him. Did he run away and join the French Foreign Legion hoping to outdistance his nasty addiction to smut?

I have a vision of this poor soul slouched in the corner of his dark room looking like a victim of late stage progeria, crooked beret awkwardly balanced on his greasy head, in full French military regalia furiously masturbating himself into oblivion until, in a desperate attempt to save his so called life, his mother bursts through his locked bedroom door and immediately commandeers his laptop and furiously Googles “son couldn’t take anymore porn.”

And as always, who doesn’t want to read about my vasectomy experience or the time The Beach Boys set my car on fire?

 

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Mountain Sicknesses

First a shout out to my people in Brazil. Now I have people from all over the world who read this blog, Qatar and Cambodia included, but for some unknown reason I have more readership in Brazil than all of the other countries of the world combined.

Buy my book. It’s like 99 cents for God’s sake…

Bang Your Head Here

Bang Your Head Here…Some More

A couple of thoughts, you people in Brazil, at least as has been reported in our mostly fake news, are virtually out of drinkable water yet hundreds, yes hundreds are a lot to me, of you take time to read my nonsense. My thought is that, as bad as it is to be on the threshold of death, you read my vitriol to remind yourselves that it could be worse. You could live in America with people like me. You would rather dehydrate yourselves to death than live here. I get that.

The other possibility is that there are Americans who have moved to Brazil for whatever reason and frequent my blog to remind themselves that they have made the right decision to leave. Regardless, thanks for taking the time.

The Top 5 Hillbilly Illnesses

For twenty years I helped run our family manufacturing business. My grandfather started it in 1952 when he moved to Cleveland from West Virginia. I am frequently thankful that he had the gumption and the fortitude to uproot his family and move up north to make something of himself. No offense to those of you from West Virginny but I wouldn’t have made a very good mountain man. I don’t like dirt and I like my food to come in a box with a label on it and not from the woods or a river. I don’t think I could shoot a “varmint” and I hate the taste of fish. I am a decent shot though, I think it’s just in my blood. I don’t want to “take vittles.” Hell, I don’t even know where the word vittles comes from, I just know that I don’t want any.

I love the movie “Deliverance” but I am afraid that, in real life, I am the fat, sissy character, Bobby and not the rugged woodsman, Louis. Bobby was the character played by Ned Beatty and also the one anally raped by the mountain cracker. I, however, draw the line at the hillbilly anal rape thing in my comparison of myself to Bobby.

I like paying too much for a cup of coffee, I don’t hunt or fish and if something needs fixing around the house, my best skill is writing a check. Not to imply that everybody, just because they are from the hills is an expert in home repair, I was just trying to make the point that I am not handy and am quite soft when it comes to what the mountains would describe as a real man.

In spite of the racist stereotype people from hills have, my grandfather was an equal opportunity employer. As long as you came from the hills, he didn’t care what color you were, gay or straight, man or woman. You could be an African-American, cross-dressing lesbian and as long as you’re from “downhome” he’d give you a shot. “You say you’re a machinist from Brooklyn? Sorry, never been there I don’t trust people who come from the city.”

People from the hills are passionately and fiercely loyal. You had to be a serious fuck-up to get fired and neither do you quit. I’ve fired my share of people in my time as the kingpin of our hillbilly manufacturing conglomerate and rarely ran into objections and excuses as most people knew when they had taken the whole “downhome” loyalty thing too far. The excuses upon firing almost made the whole firing process worth the heartache of it all as some of them were comedic genius. “Thursday night’s my night to get drunk,” was always one of my favorites and also the most frequently used. As if that makes the whole thing about not showing up for work for eight straight days just a part of business.

My absolute favorites though were the hillbilly street names for the myriad of common maladies people came down with that caused them to miss work. This, therefor, is the Top 5 Names of Hillbilly Illnesses. It wasn’t until the advent of the Internet that I could actually do a little research into the hidden meaning of these terms.

Cold in your eye

Now every cold that I’ve ever had was a respiratory kind of thing. Runny nose, sneezing, fever, cough, the whole shmear but unbeknownst to me, you can also, apparently, get this in your eye.

Upon further investigation, an eye cold, is also called conjunctivitis and / or pink eye but taken up a few degrees. It seems that eye colds are caused by the same virus’ that cause mumps, measles and herpes. Herpes? In your eye? Holy shit! Had I known that the person sitting in front of me, pleading for their job, had a rampant case of highly infectious and contagious case of eye herpes I would have gladly dismissed them and told them to take as much time as they needed. Gross!

Apparently, eye colds are untreatable with anti-viral medication and you are told to put compresses on the infected area for treatment. Any time they tell you to put a wet towel on some kind of injury or malady, it pretty much means that means they have nothing else. “Yeah, that shit looks like it hurts. Best if you just put a cold compress on it till it clears up.”

“So I have the herpes in my eye and you think the best plan of action is to slap a wet towel on it? Oh really? Thanks! People get this on their genitals and it lasts a fucking lifetime but you’re saying that a wet towel will solve my problem. Wonderful.”

The Gleet

As long as we’re on the subject of herpes I figured this would be a good place to introduce you to The Gleet. This was not a common excuse for missing work but I heard it at least a dozen times in my twenty years of service. The Gleet is a hillbilly name for gonorrhea and involves a nasty smelling discharge weeping from ones urethra. Kind of gross, right?

I have always believed that there is no better excuse for missing work than to just say that you have diarrhea. No one wants to hear you talk about it and they certainly don’t want anyone around who has it. Diarrhea is something that we all get once in a while and can certainly be understood as something that would keep one home from work. I cannot commiserate with The Gleet and even if I had it and had to miss work because of it, I would not admit it.

Falling sickness

Also commonly known as epilepsy. We had a guy, Moses, who had epilepsy. Everybody from West Virginia has a given name and a name they go by. Moses’ real name was Carroll but his dad was friends with the mailman, Moses, so yada, yada, yada, Carroll became Moses. It seems that when he was a teenager his drunk pappy put him on the back of his motorcycle, drove through an intersection and both were subsequently hit by a city bus. Of course, the drunk, was unscathed but Moses was dragged under the bus till it could come to a stop, and in the process tore off half of his flesh and did enough damage to his brain to give him epilepsy. The fact that this guy lived through let alone continued to work fifty hours a week, is a testament to the, “Dare to keep me down? Fuck you” mentality of the people of West Virginia.

Once in a while Moses would disappear for a week and we knew that he had a case of the falling sickness but that he would be back as soon as he was able. Worst part was that Moses lived alone and when a spell of the falling sickness would hit, he would lay there all by himself till he could get his legs.

The Grip (Grippe)

This was the most common of all of the absenteeism excuses I received. I mean people were falling victim to The Grip like the Black Plague in medieval Europe. There are two different Grip disorders meaning two very different things but because I couldn’t understand a lot of what they were saying and because I didn’t know what either of them were, I would just ask if they felt good enough to work and move them on their way.

First, The Grip, is a hills infirmity that keeps on from grabbing things. The Grip would cover your arthritis, strokes, any kind of paralysis or nerve damage. Hard to believe that somebody would miss a Friday of work because they were paralyzed but stranger things have happened.

More than likely they were afflicted with the more common Grippe, still pronounced just like the previously mentioned Grip. This version of the Grippe is simply the common flu. I know, not as cool but all of the names in this Top 5 list, the one I can see myself incorporating into my occasional flu life.

Jerry, a man twice my age, was continually afflicted with the grippe and would get angry if I ever asked what exactly this grippe thing was. “Look, I had the grippe, alright?!?! People with the grippe are very sensitive.

Puking fever

This would be, you would think, the easiest of the group to figure out. Puking fever should be exactly what it says it is. “I was throwing up and had a fever.” Bingo! Easy. “You feel good enough to go back to work?” “Would I be here if I wasn’t?”

You would be wrong if you assumed that any infirmity of the mountain people would be that simple. Puking fever also goes by the pseudonym Milk Sickness or The Sloes. Milk sickness is also called tremetol vomiting or the trembles and is a kind of poisoning that brings with it trembling, vomiting and severe intestinal pain. All pretty standard features of the average stomach flu except that The Trembles comes from ingesting milk or meat from a cow that fed on the white snakeroot plant. Cows, during a drought, will go into the woods in search of water where they find the snakeroot plant. Snakeroot? Some I am to believe that you went home for the weekend to the hills and drank some milk from a poisonous cow?

Do you know the astronomical odds of ever encountering even one person afflicted with Milk Sickness? You need a cow, a drought, snakeroot, white snakeroot at that, and you need to drink the cow’s milk like right off the udder. Like you basically had to be suckling the cow to come down with this. Yet I have seen dozens of people live through this terrible disease.

The Sloes are basically milk sickness mixed with a dose of small pox. I didn’t get a lot of claims of the sloes. “So you were off on Friday because you had milk sickness induced small pox but you’re okay today?”

Bonus – Straining your milk

A common caution verbalized by women to other women working in our plant was not to lift too much or you’d likely run the risk of “straining your milk.” I can’t imagine this warning applying to anybody but women who are nursing a child but after all of the sloes, grips and gleets who the hell knows.

What exactly happens when one “strains their milk?” Does it come out with blood like if you got kicked really hard in the nuts or does it just dry up? Can anything be done to de-strain your milk?

A Real Solution to Illegal Immigration and Disgusting Imported Food

A Real Solution to Illegal Immigration and Disgusting Imported Food

I can’t even turn on the effing news anymore without being lambasted with stories of illegal immigration. Muslims invading Europe. Mexicans overtaking the United States. God forbid some poor soul from a war-torn or impoverished country would want to come here to give his family a decent shot at not dying from drinking untreated, fecal-infested water or having a bomb dropping on their roof. What an asshole.

I know I’m probably in the minority here but I can’t help thinking that are we going to need bodies to help pay the pretty hefty Social Security tab for our aging population? Just a thought. I think I have a solution to the problem but first, my complaints.

What’s irritating me mostly now are these strange fruits and vegetables that weasel their way into the produce department of my local grocery store. I remember when I was a teenager and my mother came home with these strange, brown and fuzzy pieces of difficult to eat fruit later to become known to me as kiwi. To this day, I am still not sure how to eat a kiwi. No doubt they are delicious but how are you supposed to get the most of this tiny piece of fruit? I cut the ends off then peel, taking as little of the actual fruit off as possible. Is there a better way? Either way, it’s a lot of work and the laborious nature of consuming foreign fruit seems to be a fairly common complaint. Maybe they have more time to fuck around with their meals in other parts of the world. Here in the United States, I work all day and help raise my granddaughter. I don’t have time to soak beans or de-seed a pomegranate, I’m busy and even if I didn’t have a damn thing to do at all, I would not waste my time.

Plants that are indigenous to the United States or that I grew up eating are, for the most part, pretty easy to get access to. If I want an apple, I wash it and eat it. Same with most of your berry products. Oranges and grapefruit are a little more work but you aren’t risking throwing half of it away during the peeling process like you would with a Kiwi. Banana? Peel and eat.

There are exceptions to the rule, for instance, okra is from here, as far as I know, but I don’t eat it because it’s gross. I find it’s slimy consistency intolerable. Plus I only ever see it offered as fried. I could fry the bottom of my shoe, give it a splash of hot sauce and people would eat it. That is not a rousing endorsement for okra. Just saying.

Cilantro would be a veggie that has made inroads much the same as the kiwi into the American diet. However, I believe that any traction gained by this leaf has been on the coattails of salsa. Where would cilantro be without salsa? Cilantro is a bitter tasting leaf that has a nasty habit of finding ways of sticking to your front teeth and humiliating you when you smile. I wont smile after I eat salsa until I have a chance to inspect my mouth. I don’t care for smiling much anyway so this is not much of a problem.

Why do they sell coconuts at the grocery store? Seriously, what am I supposed to do with this thing? I don’t want any food that I have to beat mercilessly with a hammer to eat. Coconuts should come with an electric drill so you can get the milk out before you have to destroy it causing it to spill all over the place. Isn’t it enough that you can buy the coconut milk and the actual coconut fruit in other aisles in the same grocery store? Have we become so obsessed with hipster level freshness that we are resorting to buying non-prepared foods that require power tools just to indulge them?

What the hell is jicama anyway? I once had Jicama Slaw and found it to be quite tasty. Based on that, I bought one at the store and soon sorely regretted it. The thing is so full of watery juice that by the time I was done grating it, it had turned into a disgusting, cold pile of slop, as if it had melted or something. Around here, we use cabbage in our slaw and it has served us well for some time now. There really is no need for a replacement at this time. Please check back if ever you hear of a devastating cabbage blight. Plus, I’m not sure if this jicama stuff provides any extra nutritional value but if it’s laying in a puddle of it’s own filth on my kitchen counter, I fail to see how it really matters as I wont be eating it anyway. Besides, there are a whole bunch of vegetables in line in front of you, jicama, that I need to sample before I move onto other countries bounties. Take the turnip for instance. I’ve never had one, probably never will, but I will be damn sure to try a turnip long before I have another bite of jicama. Turnips are from here and I feel like I owe them some loyalty. Parsnips and rutabagas, whatever they are, would also fall into this category.

So there are three root veggies blocking the progress of this jicama tsunami and as I hate vegetables to begin with, the chances of jicama getting off the bench into a starting role are slim to none. I don’t even know if this jicama is a root, it just has the look of it. In any case, count me out.

I am a big Pinterest fan. I love it for the recipes mostly and I have been told that I may be the only straight guy with an account. Sorry but I guess that I am comfortable enough with my own masculinity to embrace Pinterest. Lately, I have been seeing a disturbing number of ideas for how to cook with jackfruit. What the hell is jackfruit? There are videos of people shredding this jackfruit stuff and using it as a replacement for meat. Like jackfruit with BBQ sauce. Yuck! They say stuff like, “you’ll never know that you’re not eating pork.” Okay, right. But my pulled pork sandwich doesn’t have seeds and a pit. I’m not fooled. Peddle your jackfruit elsewhere.

People tried to tell me to make a pizza crust out of cauliflower. Let me state, for the record, I hate cauliflower. It has a certain acerbic taste that does little more than invoke a strong gag reflex in me. I did just as the recipe said. I beat the crap out of it in the food processor and added all the spices just like the directions said. I formed it into a remedial crust and I put on all of my pizza toppings including sauce, cheese and veggies that I do like. Took one bite and spit it out on the plate. Why? All I could taste was acrid cauliflower. Yuck!

Wikipedia says that jackfruit is “widely cultivated and popular food item throughout the tropical regions of the world.” Let me translate for you, “widely cultivated and popular food item throughout regions where there is nothing better to eat.”

I tried star fruit once. Are you supposed to peel this thing? I couldn’t get any skin off of it and got sick of fucking around with it and just took a bite, after thoroughly washing it with soap first, of course. It tasted like diluted orange juice. It was useless. Why, if we have full-tasting oranges, do we need to airlift star fruit from Cambodia or where ever the hell it comes from? I can just add a whole bunch of water to my orange juice if ever I should want to experience the whole star fruit extravaganza again.

Really, outside of the kiwi, the world can take the rest of their weird and bad tasting fruit and stick it up their collective asses. I suppose a reasonable compromise would be that if we are going to willy-nilly import another countries native foods then we should allow their people to emigrate here as well. That way we will have people who know how to cook things like dragon fruit and plantains and they will have a job cooking said foods thus funding my Social Security. Problem solved.

Let us not forget that all of this insightful brilliance and more can be yours with one simple click. Both are available for free on Kindle Unlimited and are $0.99 and $2.99 respectively on Amazon.

JPShaverSaysbyhhsomemore