It’s always fun to delve into the bowels of this blog and figure out what makes it tick. So far, all I’ve come up with is illegal amounts of cheap merlot and Cheetos. But the readers… they are a whole different animal. There’s no telling what makes them tick, except for their obvious love of the grotesquely misunderstood inner workings of my brain.
And horses. They do love horses.
It’s been a known fact for about two years that people find my blog by searching for horses on the internet. I have no idea what the tie-in is, except that I’ve now posted twice about horses just to validate those readers’ feelings. I was going to write a post about how I was driving down the road one day and made the awful mistake of calling out to my two little girls, “Look! There are horses in that field!” only to discover too late the two of the horses were having sex right next to the side of the road while a third horse either waited his turn or was just cheering them on. Sadly, the not-so-innocent bystander horse was actually the creepier part of the equation, even though seeing two massive farm animals having sex is very alarming.
It’s now become a “thing” with me to check my blog stats and see if there are any horse fans out there, but today’s search made sexy horses seem fairly normal. Someone searched for “Rosemary’s Baby T-Shirt,” and ended up here. Thanks, SEO gods of the internet. That felt really good.
My biggest issue with the Rosemary’s t-shirt search is that now I desperately want a t-shirt with Rosemary’s Baby on it, and I can’t find one. You know those shirts for pregnant women that say “Baby on Board” and they have an arrow pointing down to their bulging tummies? I’m going to get filthy rich selling “Rosemary’s Baby on Board” t-shirts. For those “just in case” people.
Think it through all the way. That shirt would become the hottest new baby item. It’s the all-purpose baby shower gift. It’s right for moms-to-be with a sick sense of humor, it’s the perfect eff-you gift for moms who really don’t like you but only invited you to the shower hoping to get a stroller out of you, and for some other moms, it’s really just a fitting warning to society that there’s a slim chance this child will be the Antichrist. It works on every level.