Tuesday, April 06, 2010

Google, You're Sorta Freaking Me Out

Google, I realize you're just trying to be helpful to your bottom line when you suggest I buy Battlestar Galactica the complete series from Half.com when I mention the show to someone in Gmail, but could you at least provide me with the false sense of security that, I don't know, you're NOT snooping on every word I type and trying to interpret my needs via your evil algorithms?

And what's with all the suggestions for "male enhancement?" What makes you so sure I'm not well endowed? Are people sending me coded messages that reveal this fact to you? Maybe you're interpreting all my rejection letters from publishers as sexual denials?

If you're gonna be stalking me, why can't you be more helpful about it? Maybe suggest some clever things to say now and then, or compliment me when I use a particularly witty turn of phrase?

Since you apparently know more about my life and my desires than I do, maybe you could suggest some non material things that could make me happy. Maybe I just need someone to hear me out, Google. A confidant. Someone to play co-op with me in Halo 3 and finally get me past the dune buggy level. You could be that shoulder to cry on. And you can tell me your problems -- maybe you're a little insecure about Bing and we could talk about how you're totally hotter -- and we really could share everything.

Let's start over, Google. I'm Phil, nice to meet you. What can I do for ya?


Logical Libby said...

if that really is the case I must talk about my small penis and my desire to be a paralegal all the time.

Ashley O said...

It's that dang camera in your bathroom that Google had set up for you. Get rid of it already.

Also, Google is hotter than Bing. And now that we have both said hotter you're going to get ads for Russian brides or something.