Once upon a time, I TP-ed George Clooney’s house. On paper–and not even toilet paper. I wrote a short story called TP-ing Casa de Clooney. When the Long and the Short of It review site posted it as their free read, I made mention of it here.
That resulted not so much in people reading the story (I think maybe three people have done that), but an avalanche of people searching for Mr. Clooney’s house. Amused by this, I wrote a post a month later about the impossibility of George Clooney living in my blog. I even included some photos of Mr. Clooney’s charming abodes.
This, as it turns out, was a mistake. The hits on that particular post, the one with the photos? Skyrocketed. It comes in waves, based, I assume, on spikes in celebrity gossip about Mr. Clooney. Does he have a new girlfriend? (I don’t know; it’s not my week to watch him.) Break up with said girlfriend because she used the word “marriage” in an interview? (You’d think they learn, no?)
So, just as I know when it’s high school book report season (hits on my review of Tamar by Mal Peet also skyrocket), I know when it’s open season on Mr. Clooney.
I suspect I’ll regret writing this blog post as well. Still, I’d like to make one thing clear:
It’s been five years and George Clooney still doesn’t live here.