17,200,000 results (0.29 seconds), BUT NO ME!

Blue is the day.  I put in "365 Thoughts" in the box at Google and out of 17,200,000 hits not a single one about me.  I fished this cheesy little calendar out of there (I think it is a calendar) out of spite, just to show you how jaundiced Mr. Google is against short, fat, ugly, old wrinkled guys who are left to their own writing devices to fool Mother Nature into thinking that what they are doing is feeding the emaciated intellects of the proletariat. I also chose to put this silly little calendar here because it was right up top on Sergei's first page in its significantly oximoronish come-on about "365 thoughts to jump start your day."  Really, now?  WHICH DAY?  Mine, I've got that figured out, maybe.  But are you giving me 365 thoughts for my today?  Isn't that what the cover says?  Looks that way to me.  The other things that got me about this little number is the direction of the 365 thoughts.  Are the thoughts inside the spiraled book and just shivering and begging to be let out to splashily start off my day?  But then again I get the idea that somehow the pages inside, assuming that there are pages inside this sly little contraption, are there for me to write my 365 thoughts inside there to start my day of in a good, productive, happily swishy mood.  365 thoughts per day x 365 days = 133,225 in one year!  17,200,000 possibilities and Google comes up with this?  My "365 Thoughts Emanating from Paul Dion, STL" has got to be at least 5,000 times better that the little thingy in the corner.  Donchas think?  Over 6,000 times people have opened my pages and started their day with a spring to their mental health and a jounce to their good humor cerebral hemisphere.  I tell ya, I gotta stay away from that Google fella. He's a bummer.  Tell you what, let me try again before I hang up.  Now that he knows that I am unhappy [Oh, he knows all right!]he'll probably throw me a bone.  Just a sec' here and I'll be right back.
Yuk!  I put the whole title in the box.  1st page, not too bad. Page 6, a picture of Satchel Paige.  Hmmm.  Page 8, busty woman in a skimpy white bikini.  Well, at least she had something on. Actually, I checked to see if my parent guide was on.  It's not.  So I got lucky.  Typically, I don't go down lower than page 5 because that's about the cut-off for the GP rated stuff.


Did you ever wonder what you would find if you had the time and the patience to get to page 15, 785, 274?


I find that such a sweetly frightening thought that I'm going to leave this right here.  I'll bet that my crystal meth impregnated follower will be able to tell me what's on that page when I open my comment section in the morning.  Heeee!
Bring it on, Lad.  


BTW, I like this one.  I hope you did too.