Dear Google

I monitor the efficacy of your adwords program with the obsessive-compulsive attention to detail usually employed by internet celebrity stalkers or fantasy football nerds. I am concerned about how your "relevant text-based ads" are stacking up against my writing.

To whit: what the hell is it in death by children that generates an ad for BAGPIPES for the love of Christ? BAGPIPES!

Also: BAGPIPES!

It's just frikking stupid to align an article blatantly begging people to jack me into the memeoshpere like some kind of rocket propelled Amway freak with ads for a totally idiotic Scottish toture device. I mean cat mangler. I mean car wreckophone. I mean instrument.

This is an AD CAMPAIGN! I'm expecting, literally, THOUSANDS of visitors looking for more articles about teen boob distress and my gay dog and you, YOU, multi-bajillion-dollar-a-minute-Bill-Gates-Can-kiss-my-processors size mega company stacked to the eaves with qudra-degreed MIT Philberts think all these people are going to go: " . . . "I can't believe you want me to restrain my womanhoo--HEY LOOK, THEY'RE SELLING BAGPIPES! RED HOT BAGPIPES! JUST LIKE MAMMA USED TO . . .

I don't know. Blow?

Hey Google. It's a parenting blog. It's a humor blog. I'm a distraught manwife writing jokes about tampons and peeing out fires! Not haggas, ya bloody fuel!