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And On The Seventh Day, He Googled

2004-10-08 - 11:09 a.m.

Last Celebrity My Mother Called To Tell Me About: Jimbo, on TV, at the Sox/Angels game

Listening To: Nick Drake, Bush, Nirvana, Si * Se

Quote: "If I come back here and see any Calico Critters I will pee on them." - Zach

Alright kids. Here we go. There's this thing called Google. We all know it. Well, most of us do, but some of us are just discovering it now. These are the same people that refer to e-mail as "the e-mail" and Nintendo as "Intendo". And now people are taking to Google like a lemming at the beach. I don't know. I don't make this shit up, I just transcribe it for the earwigs in my head.

Case in point: Rich calls me at work last night. "Hey," he says. "I got a weird call earlier today. From Alexi. He wants to know why you're writing about him on your site." Ok. What? #1 - How does he even know about it? #2 - Since when have I ever written anything about Alexi? (Besides, you know, this last paragraph) Well, apparently I did. Right here. Pretty scathing huh? Except. Not. At. All. I needed to make a joke about Laconia "Woodstove" Christian and throwing Alexi's name (just as I did with "Woodstove") in seemed to work at the time. BACK IN 2002. That is it. That is all I've ever said about the kid. But he googled his name to that reference SEVEN TIMES (Hi Alexi!), I don't know, just *making sure* I guess? Anyway, he wanted to know what I had against him. Alexi, pal, I assure you, if I had something against you, I would have been slightly more scathing than claiming that Laconia Christian naming their school after you.

Case in Point: Alright, I'm calling your punk ass out. WHO ARE YOU?! Do I know you? You are listed as being based in Kidlington, England. Oh! Ok. Kidlington! My old friend . . . NO ONE! You have been Googling "zqf8" everyday for like 3 fucking months. Can you not remember the address? At first I thought it was quaint that perhaps someone I didn't know from overseas was reading this. BUT GOOGLING ME EVERY SINGLE DAY?! Have you not heard of a favorites list? Besides, you've already remembered the "hard" part - "zqf8", now just add a diaryland, stir in a ".com" and voila! It yields 8 muffins! Please, mdconsult, out yourself in my comment section. It does a body good.

Case in Point: Ok. Now this is just ridiculous. Who on EARTH is Googling, "G. Willikers Hayley Shannon Wallakers"???? I mean . . . who in the world could be googling that and NOT be trying to find my site, with the evidence of "wallakers" meaning they've ALREADY BEEN HERE. I know it isn't Hayley, and it shouldn't be Shannon. And as far as the whole, "Zach, aren't you scared your employers are gonna google G. Willikers now and find this." Um. No. Not so much. And don't you mean my soon-to-be-former-employers? What are they gonna read, save lots of swears and pictures of people they don't know? What horrible things do I say? Yes, I'm pretty sure it won't come as any shock to them that I hated Michael (as did 85% of the New England population), it will come as no surprise to them that Dottie is bat shit insane, it will come as no surprise to them that I've been running an illegal cockfighting ring in the back room for the last 3 years. Oh wait. That may come as a surprise to them.

I've been asked, "What happens when your family finds out about this business?" Well, I threw in the "business" part, as you can imagine. Um, I don't know, what am I supposed to do? Throw myself off a high bridge? Tell them "different zqf8"? My brother and several of my cousins already know about it. And I'm pretty sure one Aunt knows. Oh well. I imagine one day my parents will find out. And they'll find out I swear a little bit more than they already thought I did. But I purposely don't write much about them because a.) I've always thought in the back of my head they might find it somewhere down the road and b.) it would get boring if I wrote in every entry, "My mother called me today to tell me [Fill in Recently Dead Celebrity] died. And that she hates Jane Seymour. And that my dead cat and her got in an argument last night." etc. etc. and "My Dad came by on Tuesday. We talked about the [Fill In Current Sport] game from last night. He rode his bike X amount of miles last weekend and it was cold." Not to say that my parents lives are that boring. But, I mean, it's not like I live at home anymore. I'm sure if I did every other paragraph would be filled with teenage-y angst of "My parents just don't get it!" "I don't understand why they won't let me freebase when all the other kids are doing it!" And trust me, there's about 6.2 million sites on diaryland that can offer you that if that's what you're looking for. And they're usually in a pink/black color scheme and talk a lot about "Good Charlotte", or "Slipknot", or whoever kids are listening to these days. 23 - skidoo!

Case in Point: Two seperate McKeen's have googled themselves, found this joint out, and both claimed to be the real deal. Well, as frightening as it may sound, I fully believe there be more than one person out there named "Jeremy McKeen" (did you catch that Google?) But I can't imagine that the one we know got cloned and both found me. I mean. The mind boggles thinking there could be two rabid fans of the "Where in the World is Carmen SanDiego?" tv show running around doing Nemoy and Patty Larceny impressions. Do it Rockapella.

So yeah, people. If you googled yourself and found my site. Well, what're ya gonna do? Chances are, unless your Helen Hunt, Kirstie Alley, or Tracey Lundgren, you don't have much to cry about. (And if I were you Tracey, I wouldn't even cry, what with your corrosive acid tears searing the flesh off your face and all. Just suggestin' is all.) So yeah. If Trace wanted to start up her own site, say,, hey, more power to her! And if the bosses read this, well, again, I don't think it comes as any surprise to them that Tracey blows goats.

And as a shout out to all the refuG's: B Rog, Hannah, Becca, Eliza, et al. Yeah. It's some crazy shit. The ship is sinking and some of us don't know whether to jump or just learn how to swim. Me? I took swimming lessons for years. What bearing that has on this, I haven't a clue. (And I would have included Fred in the list of refuG's, but I'm pretty sure he has no memory of working there, let alone who the hell I am.)

It's been real,


ps - Expect another entry soon. Full of fun pics.

4 comments so far

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