Google turned 7 years old this week. It seems like it should be a lot older than that. I can’t remember an internet without Google. How did people find stuff?" />
Google turned 7 years old this week. It seems like it should be a lot older than that. I can’t remember an internet without Google. How did people find stuff? Do other search engines really work? And how long until the government admits that it uses Google to plan special operations over dangerous terrain and then charges us like 12 million a month for the privilege? Yeah, that’ll probably never happen (the government is a bunch of liars). Seriously though, how did we get along without Google? It’s the George Foreman Grill of the internet.
I rushed the field at the USF game and ran between two cops so I could shake hands with some of the players and put a punctuation mark on the best college game I’d ever been to. The next day, I read in the paper that seven of the twenty to forty people who rushed that field (Tampa Tribune’s numbers, by the way) were arrested and that one was Tasered for assaulting a cop, and I started thinking about how lucky I was and how stupid it was to rush that field. About nine seconds later, I realized that I would definitely do that again. Some kids don’t learn.
I discovered this website, Points in Case, while I was goofing off at work. As of this date I have received nine e-mails from people who have stated that reading my blog is going to cost them their jobs. And it got me thinking, does anyone work anymore? I mean, really. The internet is one of the best inventions ever, but it’s such a distraction… Dude, minimize that window. The boss is coming.
Have you ever rediscovered how much you like a particular food? You know what I mean right? The other day, I saw a crab salad sandwich in a window at a deli. And I was like, wow, I haven’t had one of those in forever. I wonder why? Then I ate it and it tasted so good that I re-realized that I really like this food that I used to eat all the time. So why don’t I eat it more often? If you know what I’m talking about, just smile and nod. If you don’t, screw you. The smiling and nodding people get me.
Using an alarm clock to wake up is like playing a practical joke on yourself. I mean really, who would wake me up every weekday with such loud noise? Oh, right. Me. Kids can be so cruel.
And finally, because this is one of those entries where I chomp on logic and fluidity like a starving man on a Porterhouse, I leave you with the following, which my buddy Peek overheard someone say once:
“Let the boss fire me. I was looking for a job when I found this one.”