My lawyer's feet smell like the erosion of my personal freedom

Those crazy attorneys over at Lord, Bissell & Brook must have a lot of spare time. One of my latest hits came from a Google search titled "Paula Creamer's feet" which, sadly for the searcher, turned up a post, aptly titled My cat's feet smell like cat litter, a paraphrase of a quote from Springfield's Ralph Wiggum.

The post had something to do with Don Imus and Beatles songs, with nary a mention of Ms. Creamer's pes, or anything above her Talus, either.

It got me to thinking [oh, that again] about all the crap that people must have to sift through to either (a) figure out that they hit a dry well and should just stop reading, or (b) continue to the end just in case there's some wacky reference from out of nowhere. Mostly, it's "a".

So, to all those poor souls who go out in search of those elusive Alycia Lane bikini pics, the Koreans who come here in search of the Big Ass and all my "no referring link" pals who wander over checking to see who has the World's Smallest Penis ... a haiku:

You came here looking

for a lot of different things.

Most of which ain't here.

You want to know who

has the World's smallest penis.

I hope it ain't you.