George, Tewt the Newt, George, Tewt the Newt, George, Tewt the Newt

November 06, 2006

George, Tewt the Newt, George, Tewt the Newt, George, Tewt the Newt

Last night I had a dream that I, quite accidentally, found my old friend George.  My husband and I, along with his many siblings and their spouses, went in to some touristy audio/visual business to make a movie starring us (I did mention that this was a dream, right?) and there was George, managing the whole place and running the equipment.  I was overjoyed to see him, he was overjoyed to see me, we laughed and talked but then, when I asked how I could get in touch with him again he said he couldn’t give me his phone number or his address.  It’s not that he didn’t want to keep in touch with me, but that he didn’t think he’d be able to for some reason.  It was odd.  I could tell he was healthy, but he wasn’t well.  Something was wrong.  And that, dear readers, was pretty much the entire dream.  I still have no idea what kind of movie we were making, but Husband’s teeth were all intact, so I don’t think it had anything to do with CSI.

So I woke up from the dream kind of sad, but as I was trying to get back to sleep, a thought occurred to me.  I don’t know how other blogs work, but with Windows Live Spaces I can look at any time to see how many hits I’ve had on my blog that day.  Also, if there is a referring address, like the Mrs. Broccoli Guy blog roll, it shows the link the person clicked on to get to my blog.  So, though I don’t know who specifically is reading my blog, I can tell if they got to me from another blog or from Google, or whatever just by clicking on the link by the hit record.  Lately I’ve been Googled several times.  Ok, my blog specifically hasn’t been Googled that many times, but people Googling things like, “Looking for a sperm donor for my sister and her husband,” have found my blog.  Recently I had a visitor who seemed to have Googled his/her search terms from France (or Quebec) and yet another that, I think, Googled from Germany (I never took any German, though someone did once leave an obscene message on my answering machine in German — my dad translated).

OK, back on track.  So, I figured if people were accidentally finding my blog by Googling terms such as “sperm donor” and “looking for ~~~” then I should really go out of my way to type things that would catch the eye of My George, should he ever Google his name.  So, here goes:

George, Friendly’s, George, Tewt the New, George, Oreo, George, Renee, George, THS, George, Pictionary, George.

And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello, posthumously of course.

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