I spuddle.

Seeing as no one on this site has ever asked me for advice and I feel like sharing information that I’m potentially making up while positing myself as an “expert”, I’ve decided to treat all Google searches that hit my page as questions that people want me personally to answer. Because I am wise! And I (pretend to) know things! Which makes me one step away from being an expert on your subject.

Even when I don’t know the answer, I can guess and make the answer seem like fact by presenting it in a really belligerent tone as though I’m shocked — SHOCKED — that you would even ask such a stupid question. It is this style of delivery that got me through university. I’m not actually kidding about that, either.

I’ve just realized that making up answers to vague search-term questions that grossly misfire is perhaps the most fun thing about having a blog. I’d previously thought the most fun thing about having a blog was that you had to write it, thus creating extra deadlines and pressure for yourself that you otherwise wouldn’t be struggling with enjoying. Boy, I was wrong. Because now I think that nothing IN MY ENTIRE LIFE is more fun than making up answers to vague search-term questions that grossly misfire. Nothing. Well, nothing except for the following things:

1. Things I can’t list because they are top secret.

2. Sleep. You know, when you close your eyes at night and don’t open them again to fetch anyone a drink or soothe them back to sleep or shout at them or find their monkey. And then next thing you know, it’s MORNING.

3. That game of golf I played the other day with Clayton where we managed to lose five balls in the forest* on a nine-hole pitch and putt that required no club more powerful than a 9-iron (which didn’t stop me from breaking out a 4 more than once).

4. Did I previously mention the plunge pool at our resort in the Caribbean? That was fun. So was that time when I peed in the water while snorkeling and it got a piranha all excited and he followed me because he was so allured by my pee that he wanted to eat me. True story. I out-swam him though. Because I can do that. You don’t believe me, but I’m still alive, aren’t I?

5. My life in general, with the exception of today, which has been resoundingly Not Fun, beginning with the general unwellness (neck, chest, head, stomach) and fatigue and the two hours of sleep I got last night (which wasn’t even continuous or good) and the fact that Joan Rivers inexplicably won Celebrity Apprentice. And ending with the sudden storm that hit while we were just now at the beach which left us drenched, shivering, and grumpier than when we left home, which I wouldn’t have believed to be possible. (And when I use the word “we” here, I mean “I” because the kids thought it was a great expedition. They even made up a song, or more accurately, stole a song from The Piglet Movie and claimed to have made it up themselves.)

6. Board games popular in the 1970s, played while drinking cocktails from the 1970s, while wearing clothes from the 1970s. (I’ve never actually done that, but just now while thinking of things that are fun, it’s the first thing that came to mind.) (Or maybe I just have a craving for a martini or a Long Tom Collins Island or whatever those drinks were called). (I put it at number 6 on the list because placing it first would have been weird. It’s the kind of fun that you have to warm up to slowly.)

7. Laughing. Oh, come on. Laughing is fun! It is! You should totally try it. If you’re having a crap day, just randomly burst out laughing for no reason. It really works for The Birdy. In fact, she’s doing it right now. Either that or she knows something about this couch that I don’t. Like maybe I’m sitting in pee. It is a bit damp, come to think of it.

Without further unnecessary rambling ado, I present the “question” of the day:

Would leaking gas get into food?

I’m going to assume you’re talking about natural gas in your house and this isn’t a question about, say, what happens when you’re at a gas station and you pull the gas pump out of your tank too fast and gas splatters on the “fresh” sandwich you just purchased inside. If that was the case, obviously the answer would be, “Do not eat the sandwich”. That would also be the answer if the question was “Should I eat sandwiches that are purported to be ‘fresh’ that I purchased at the gas station?” (I just don’t think they are as “fresh” as they suggest. How can they be? There’s just the one guy there doing cash and selling lottery tickets and cigarettes and you never SEE him making sandwiches, do you? I think not.)

Given that we must be talking about natural gas (but please be more specific in your future searches, I’m not psychic you know) and I am an expert on the subject seeing as our natural gas seems to constantly leak enough to smell bad but not enough to kill us, I can say with absolute conviction that if there is enough leaking gas in your house that it is affecting your food in any way, you’ve already breathed in enough of it to be dead and the debate you are having with yourself about whether or not to eat that Twinkie you left out on the counter is no longer your biggest problem.

Short answer: No. (I asked the Magic 8 Ball, just to be sure it also reported “Sources say No”.) (Just in case you wanted a second opinion because you didn’t entirely trust my answer, although I don’t know why you wouldn’t.) (Doubter.)

Wasn’t that fun? I mean, it was no pee-inspired piranha chase, but it was pretty good. For me, anyway. I’m not half so grumpy as I was when I started typing AND the sun just came out! It’s like this post actually just begot (begetted?) (begat?) a miracle! Except not actually anything like that at all.

* I use the word “forest” here because it’s shorter than typing “walker-friendly chip trail featuring weight-lifting equipment for the elderly”.

Filed under: Answers To Questions You Didn't Actually Ask