clock menu more-arrow no yes mobile

Filed under:

Odds, Ends, Asundries, Potpourri, Ephemera

This is a proud, proud moment in the history of Our much-esteemed adam8065 has changed the face of the internets. That's right, thanks to his diary entry, when anyone Google searches "Bill Simmons moron" the first site they find is this here blog, which is ironic considering Bill Simmons is my favorite sportswriter. Don't misunderstand me, I certainly encourage every beloved PtR user to speak their mind, and Lord knows Bill has made some incredibly misguided statements about the Spurs.

Oh, and if anyone wants to write a diary entitled "Matthew Powell is Witty, Charming and Smells of Lilacs," go right ahead. Apparently the diaries are a direct line to the Google gods.

I wish there was backwards search with Google. I would give them PtR's URL and they would return every search that lists my site first. I challenge you, oh faithful readers, to find another search query where PtR (or my old blog on Blogger) is first on the list. Don't use "spurs" or "San Antonio" though, that's just cheating. There's at least one more that I've found.


$53.83. Fifty-three dollars and eighty-three cents. That's the balance of my Google Ads account, which will be two years old in February. (Let's not stop and think about how sad this whole paragraph is, ok?) Unfortunately Google, in their infinite (and infinitely evil) wisdom, doesn't actually send you a check until your balance reaches $100. Fucking fuckers. It's not the money, it's the principle of the thing, you know? And Daddy needs new CDs.

So, uh, yeah, um, clicking on those ads on the left (not the top) helps. Don't bother doing it more than once a day, Google is too smart for that. And I'll even kick some money down to aaronstampler, who will undoubtedly spend it on clove cigarettes and underground anime, but that's his business. We don't judge here.


I have a strong urge to do a line by line analysis and reaction to Weezer's The Good Life. I just thought you should know. Oh, and one of my favorite Weezer lyrics is "I mean, God damn, you left your cello in the basement." Yeah, I mean shit, what the fuck was she doing leaving her cello in the basement?