Swiffer Popularity Spawns ToolFool Household Dating Site

(This post not affiliated with Swiffer in any way other than this blog author watches entirely too much television.)

Recent Swiffer TV commercials have shown that household cleaning implements and other utensils not only have a lot of free time on their... um... handles, but that they use it to enjoy a rich social life.

And now they can meet like-minded household items in the online dating community that's sweeping the nation!...

Welcome to the ToolFool Household Dating Site.

At ToolFool, you won't have to scour your basements, bathrooms, kitchens and garages for great available singles. You'll clean up on the social scene and can give less likely candidates the brush-off at the click of a button.

Why spend time trying to meet other quality implements in a smoky club situation, which can be crowded and noisy, making it hard to find that meaningful one-on-one time you're looking for?...
Here's just a sample of the household honeys waiting to meet you through ToolFool!

Like Yolanda. She's got discerning tastes, but doesn't just skim the surface when it comes to relationships. She's willing to go through thick or thin, even some sticky situations, in order to find herself a real keeper...
She left her last relationship because it was strained.

Meet Darcy and Danette. This twosome is ready to whisk some lucky fellow off on a whirlwind weekend he'll never forget...
Take these ladies out for a spin and they'll have you in a froth in no time!

Of course, we don't guarantee you'll find the right partner right away. Like any service, you may run into that occasional someone who makes you bristle or feel a little bit like you need a shower afterwards...
But with our special compatibility profile, you can choose the qualities that are really important to you (for instance, likes the outdoors, enjoys quiet time in the drawer, really knows how to drill, is tested 100% rust-free) and so much more.

So you'll be able to narrow down your interests and find the household implement to share your life, in no time.

So why wait? Sign up for ToolFool today, and be stirred up and swept into a new world of romance!

Fill out your application by leaving a comment here, and our Compatibility Experts will add you immediately to our extensive database!

80s Big Hair and the Earrings that Ate New Jersey

Blazers with shoulder pads suitable for Pittsburgh Steelers defense...

Pencil skirts with waists that reached the upper clavicle region...

And a white patent leather pocketbook emblazoned with a cartoon barnyard print... (This is something which I know I did not buy myself, and which may have been a remnant of my one Miss Piggy Halloween, where for years thereafter, everyone felt inspired to gift me with random pig-centric items.)

Anyway, these were just a few of the things I found when cleaning out my basement boxes this last week. And it was tucked into the aforementioned example of Barnyard Couture, that I discovered my 1980s high school ID...

Given the width and height of my hair in the photo, it is truly a remarkable example of physics at work, that it actually fit in the purse.

Ah, I remember these days well, too... Where the outgrowth of half an inch of perm meant-- not that I could finally run a comb through my hair and let the squirrels return to the woods. But that it was...

Time for another perm.

My hair was fried better than the Colonel's extra crispy. But what it lacked in, say, softness, and health and, oh... shine... it totally had in diameter.

Which by 1980s standards was very, very cool.

Ah, look at the eyes, smudged with Wet n Wild's colored eyeliner, the best that $0.99 could buy! I spared no expense when it came to beauty.

Look at the smiling yet pained and sweat-misted expression. Because I probably had come straight from having to wrap my leg around my head in the Jane Fonda Workout portion of Phys Ed class. And there's nothing you want to do more after getting yourself in a pretzel position for 40 minutes than have your photo taken for posterity for ever and ever and ever.

It must also have been after lunch, as I completely bucked conventional portraiture traditions by posing with food in my teeth. That was my undaunted rebel nature at work.

(Also because there wasn't enough time between classes to ever really use the restroom.)

And last, I suppose you probably are wondering if I planned to address the elephant in the room-- or rather, the great satellite dishes dangling from my ears.

Yes, those are, in fact, earrings-- those items that look like what would happen if the Care Bear Cartel took over Dish Network.

Well, I am proud to say, I made those myself. Yes, those are official, 100% hand-crafted, hand-beaded, hand-melted-with-Mom's-iron-making-stink-enough-to-scare-the-smoke-detectors, original, 16-ounces-apiece, clip-on, earlobe-screaming tat.

All in rainbow colors, too-- as in the 80s, rainbows meant Joy and Magic and Trendy and, in some cases, Vibrant Overcompensation for Depression. And not, y'know, Diversity like it does today.

So when you get up in the morning, look in the mirror and think, "I have seen better days," just smile and remind yourself:

Your hair fits safely in your car.

Your earrings aren't a smart substitute for a free weight workout.

And the only rainbows you'll see hopefully will be streaking across the rain-spattered sky... and not on your knit sweater, shoelaces, and Trapper Keeper unicorn notebook. (Actually, okay, I still kinda think I might like the notebook.)

_________________________

So tell me, folks-- what past fashions do you look back and regret? :)

_________________________

If Daily Life Had a Soundtrack

"Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you..."

I found myself chanting this absently in the grocery store canned soup aisle-- like some prayer to the patron saint of shaky handheld cameras and overworked beat cops-- before I realized I was even singing....

Then I found myself looking around, expecting to see some dude in a stained wife-beater shirt and boxers sprint by, flinging displays of Campbell's Chicken 'n Stars to the heavens, and pursued by a determined team of Pittsburgh's Finest.

But, alas. It was just the tunes being pumped in through the supermarket PA system. Reality set in when the reggae tribute to law enforcement moved on to Stanza Two, a whole startling other set of lyrics I'd never actually heard before, jarring me from my reverie. It forced me into an uncomfortable, awkward silence until the familiar chorus came around once more.

"Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna wear, whatcha gonna wear when they raid your lair..."

Or whatever.

I'd had a similar experience not long ago at the pharmacy in the very same store, when Travis Tritt's "T-R-O-U-B-L-E" wafted through the sound system.

Here, my movie-soaked mind had visions of a giant Graboid worm breaking through the tile flooring and scarfing up the old lady holding up the line with 30 prescriptions and 150 cases of impulse-buy catfood.

I mean-- seriously, "Tremors 2" is the first thing that comes to my mind? Not that I'm too high-and-mighty to appreciate a fine pre-Cambrian worm-based epic. But I like to keep my groceries and Graboids in separate mental buckets.

Which got me thinking, how cool would it be if we actually had rotating soundtracks for daily life?

Like the commute to work--

Sure, we could go with obvious choices, like "Manic Monday," "Rainy Days and Mondays" or "Take This Job and Shove It," but how about a crowded train or bus commute with "Stuck in the Middle with You"? Or maybe Cake's "Long Line of Cars"?

A pause at the erratic office complex vending machine might bring on a chorus of the Stones' "You Can't Always Get What You Want."

Your stubborn computer problem which monopolizes too much valuble time for your morning might trigger The Flaming Lips' "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots."

Until, of course, it gets solved. And "Mr. Roboto" sings out in all its dramatic prog-rock triumph.

Lunchtime might be accompanied by Duran, Duran's "Hungry Like a Wolf," while your afternoon meeting with the boss could go from Deniece Williams' "Let's Hear It for the Boy" to Don McLean's "The Day the Music Died" in no time.

And then, as five o'clock rolls around, you might hear a bright chorus of "We've Gotta Get Out of This Place." So you get in your car to Dave Matthews' "Ants Go Marching."

Back at the grocery store, though, I have to wonder what exactly made them think the theme from "Cops" would be appropriate shopping accompaniment. Maybe it's considered a subtle crime deterrent after some adverse Muzak reactions to, say, The Smiths' "Shoplifters of the World Unite" on the in-store radio.

"Bad boys, bad boys, are ya gonna buzz, are ya gonna buzz and get chased by fuzz..."


So tell me folks: What would be included in your personal soundtrack?

What's Your Google Search Style?

Google. The search engine that offers us quick and easy answers for life's great questions...

Like, "What Does Manfred Mann's Blinded By the Light really mean?" (Answer: Some things in life may never be understood.)

Or: "Who was that actor in that film with that other guy in it with the car and the hair?" (Answer: Gramma, you're going to need to give me more clues if you expect me to look this up on the internet for you.)

And that got me thinking about the different ways we search for information on the internet.

So here at Of Cabbages and Kings, our fleet of SEO experts have performed an in-depth analysis of the search terms used to reach this very web site, and have examined them for common stylistic techniques.

(Translation: I spent five minutes going through my stats and made broad, subjective generalizations for humor value).

Perhaps you've seen these techniques in your own web stats. Or perhaps you get your Google on with one of these styles yourself:


The Stream-of-Consciousness Author
Personal and immediate, the Stream of Consciousness Google surfer does not just search for keywords; he searches as if writing a first person dream sequence. (Or possibly he has been hypnotized twenty years ago during psychotherapy, and mistakes Google for his lost therapist. )

Laughing in the face of the concept of "keywords," searchers with this style use lengthy descriptions of situations and memories, using full sentences.

Like the one I saw in my Statcounter stats the other day:

"program I used to watch during the 90s and as far as I can remember it contained dinosaur like creatures but they all--"

I'm not sure what '"they all" were, because the character limit ran out. But the searcher was determined to communicate with Google like an old friend.

(By the way, Searcher, if you should happen to read this-- the program you're talking about is called, obscurely-enough, "Dinosaurs.")

(You're welcome.)

Now, the Stream-of-Consciousness Writer is often paired with another Google style...


"The Google Reads My Mind" Searcher
These folks know the power of technology and realize that the moment you sit down to a computer, The Mighty Google already knows who you are and what you are thinking. So you can type in:

"Red shirt I used to have in 1989"

And it'll come back with a photo of the stylish button-up you wore over your MC Hammer pants.

You might type in:

"that weird plant in my back yard"

And you expect it to come up with horticultural information on the strange vining pod you've been trying to cut back, but which keeps singing doo-wop showtunes at you and calling you "Seymour."


The Well-Meaning Speller
This Googler needs information but may find himself narrowly missing it, because he operates on intuition and phonics, and enjoys seeing asthma with two "z's". The Well-Meaning Speller is a free-spirit not bound by the confines of things like dictionaries or self-doubt. His search interests tend to fall largely, but not exclusively, in the "erotica" category. But he is too excited to stop and look up how to spell "naked."


The Jeopardy Contestant
This user types all searches in the form of a question. Points will, apparently, be taken off for not phrasing it in that way.

"Where do I go to get my license renewed?"
"Who is Justin Bieber and why is he taking over Twitter?"

These and other queries comprise this searcher's web world. After all, Alex Trebek-Google is terribly strict.


The Girls Girls Girls Patron
Whatever this searcher is looking for, he will add the word "nude" or "naked" to it. (If combined with the well-meaning speller, it's likely to be "necked", "nood" or "wit no close".)

It doesn't matter if it's Janet Reno, Holly Hobbie or a bag of potato chips, he'll want to see it buck and beautiful.


So tell me, folks-- How do you or your visitors Google?