"Adventures in
Referral" is a 'classic' episode, because SiteMeter is down for some
reason. It will hopefully return tomorrow.
ADVENTURES IN REFERRAL:
a daily assortment of random
search engine queries leading people to the Ludic Log in the past 24
hours
"God Bless the USA chord chart"
"Starfire's breasts"
"napkin fuck fold"
"sixteen kid fucked"
"mermaid decals"
"chords for Lee Greenwood's Proud to
Be an American"
"voluntary amputation"
"sexy supermodels tonight"
"fucked by Batman"
"sausage swallowing"
LUDIC LOG
06.23.2004
Harken, she who is called 'Sue'!
Conan has no need of your foolish tonics and potions. Is this the
way of civilization? Are all the men here so weak and womanly
that they must anoint their steel with herbs and magics in order to
please their women-folk? Bah! A pox on the degenerate
habits of your kind! Conan is a warrior of Cimmeria, not some
perfumed fop of Aquilonia! A thousand harlots and trulls have
fallen before Conan's manhood and have all been satisfied without
the use of any of your Cialis! Begone from the inbox of Conan,
foolish woman, and peddle your quackery elsewhere, lest I teach you a
final lesson!
Yours,
Conan T. Barbarian
Look ye, he who is named 'Ratio Q. Respiration'!
Since Conan left his homelands in the north, he has always heeded the
words ingrained upon him on countless fields of battle. What is
good? To crush your enemies. To see them driven before
you. To hear the lamentation of their women. Nowhere have I
heard it said that what is good is discounted software! By Crom,
I am a warrior! Life for me is the clanging of steel, the
spilling of blood, the heat and rush of combat! Valor and courage
are my strengths! What cares Conan for PhotoShop, Microsoft
Office and GoLive CyberStudio at well below retail costs? If
Conan has need for such magical trickery, he will take it! Or
download it from LimeWire! Call to me no more, Ratio Q.
Respiration, or I shall split you like a Pictish dog!
Yours,
Conan T. Barbarian
Greetings, he who is hailed as Dr. Mseke Bronson!
At first, Conan was intrigued by your letter. While Conan has
nothing but scorn for a man who once possessed his throne and then lost
it -- for what is a fallen king? He is no better than his
lowliest slave -- your offer of gold held my ear. Aye, the gold
of a toppled monarch spends just as well as the gold of a reigning
pretender! The purse of Conan makes no distinction between one
and the other. But rather than offering to buy my sword and
thews, so as to slaughter those who deposed you and bring you the heads
of all who stand in your way, you rather wish me to engage in the
creation and transfer of a number of bank accounts, whatever those
are. What civilized trickery is this? Conan is a warrior, a
slayer of fools and a shedder of blood, not a fully licensed and bonded
financial representative! Grovel in the dust elsewhere, disgraced
one! Do not contact me again, or feel the wrath of Conan's junk
filter!
Yours,
Conan T. Barbarian
On your guard, o wizard Thulsa Doom!
How did you get my address? Stop bothering me! Seriously.