Archive for the ‘search results’ Category

>No Shit, WebMD

Posted: June 13, 2011 in search results, wtf

>Back when I had chest congestion and the only thing Google could help me with was whether or not I knew complex equations involving quantum mechanics, I decided to try my hand at the old standby:


Everyone knows that you don’t use the Internet to look up shit like “sniffles” because what will come back in the results is shit like “OH FUCK you have Ebola” or “it’s obviously syphilis, you hideous crack whore” but I figured I’d give it a shot because this technology has to have gotten better, right?


Here’s what came up when I picked ‘nasal congestion’ as my symptom:

Oh what the Hell.

Personally, I’d take the “crack whore” insult over being the incurable victim of what is, apparently, a deliberate terrorist attack using castor beans.

Way to encourage me to up my Xanax prescription, assholes.

This is when I realize that WebMD changed their format so you could just plug in any combination of symptoms and they tailor the results so I just started randomly picking some stuff to see how ridiculous things got.

Thank GOD for this service because under no circumstance would I ever think that the fact I haven’t eaten in two days was the cause of my HUNGER.

“Hey, you know what’s weird?”


“I’ve been lifting heavy weights for, like, 3 years now and for some reason I have muscle growth.”

“Dude. Don’t fuck around with that shit. You need to see a doctor or at least look that up on the Internet. The longer you wait, the more muscular you’ll probably get.”

“Hold me.”

The Hell.

Maybe I’m underestimating the effects of narcotics, but I’m pretty sure that if you take Ecstasy and the Ecstasy makes you giddy, the fact that you’re giddy is – in all likelihood – THE FACT THAT YOU TOOK ECSTASY.

Either that, or you’re bipolar. Now you know.

Stop yelling and laughing at me.


Just checking.

I know you’re all thinking the same thing I am which is, “My GOD. How do you look so good, Rodney?” but I think the bigger question here is, “What the Christ is a ‘Jumping Frenchman?'”

Of course if you Google this crap you come up with this:

I don’t think this is right.

I’m pretty sure if you were dancing and a French guy landed on your face you’d not only be fully aware of this but would also have a tough time seeing the computer to go on WebMd in the first place so I checked their glossary instead.

Turns out this is some weird mental disorder and has nothing to do with ballet dancers sitting on your face.



Talk about hitting home.

I’m looking at these conditions, though, and none of them seem right. Maybe with some editing…

There. That’s better.

Still doesn’t explain my friggin’ sniffles, though.

Anyone want some castor beans?


I have not a single clue as to why but I was messing around with “Google” stuff which I kind of stumbled on that time I was writing my post about flying with the crazy Ebola/Typhoid chick..

..when I decided that it was time to debut a new feature on here called, “I like to Google Alphabetically”

Basically, I pick a phrase which may or may not be normal, then go through the alphabet to see what kind of screwed up shit comes up.

You’re welcome.

Today’s Google Phrase:


But before I did “I like TO,” I stopped at “I like..” and this popped up:

I don’t know what a mischievous badger is, but if it exists, it has to be AMAZING.


To wade through the bullshit I only did the ones where I was, like, WTF?

Here goes…


Personally, I like to annoy people by abusing my dog and then arguing with them about it.

Three birds, one stone.

I also like to abuse my birds.


I was thinking “how do you blow a tree?” but then realized it’s probably pretty easy since a tree always has wood.

*cymbal crashes


“C” sucked – like, the best I could get was when I made it “I like to CH” and “I like to check you for ticks” came up.


I’m wondering if the guy who likes to dissect girls is the same guy who also likes to dance.

Would explain a LOT.


Who’s hungry?!

Then there’s a shitty alphabetic drought until the letter ‘P’ for some reason although, honestly, this seems appropriate.


I’m thinking we should get the “I like to poop” person and the “I like to eat poop” person together.

It would be like but, you know, way more fucking disgusting.

FYI, if you Google “Jesus in a tuxedo” you get this:

The more you know.

The there’s nothing of significance until “S” which gave me “I like to singa about the moona” which just made me laugh because Italians are funny unless they’re gangsters and then I thought about that book, “Strega Nona” and her magic pasta pot and how Big Anthony almost killed thousands of people with spaghetti.

The moral of that story was supposed to be about listening and paying attention but I’m pretty sure all I got from is it is that no matter what, never ever trust a man wearing a scarf.

Then I got to ‘T.’


Then after ‘T’ the only thing I found of note was in ‘W’ where “I like to wear diapers” came up and since most two year olds can barely understand basic scientific principles like the coefficient of friction never mind being able to work Firefox (screw you, Internet Explorer!), I’m gonna guess an adult searched for this and..


Then again, maybe it’s that guy who likes to poop and pee.

Makes sense, Google.

Makes sense.

>I was checking my blog stats the other day when I noticed that an old post about how I became trapped in my ex-wife’s hairspray-covered-bathroom-floor and almost died (read: found that my foot got sticky) was trending.

This prompted me to look at where all the traffic was coming from:

So of course I’m all, like, ‘wtf is a sticky site?’ and the answer that kept coming back to me involved post-coital relations but I’m pretty sure that even I wouldn’t want free wi-fi from there so I decided to click on the site to see why this post was coming up.

Bad. Bad idea.

It turns out that my hairspray entrapment blog post was linked in this ‘forum’ posting:

“I came across this blog post today while doing one of my routine searches on getting stuck in glue.”


At this point I don’t know what’s going on here except maybe this guy owns a glue factory or works in a glue manufacturing plant or is a serial killer because I’m pretty sure I’m about as weird as they come and I’ve routinely Googled shit before but nothing about getting stuck in glue.

Now I’m like, did he find my blog Googling this crap?

This led me to look at my search results for that day: he searched for “feet stuck in super glue.”

I suppose that’s valid.

But why wouldn’t you just take your shoes off or something? How did you get to the computer to use Google? WHO IS FEEDING THE DOG?!

So many questions.

Then I realize his forum post says this:

I got nothin’.

So now it’s occurred to me that this guy isn’t trying to get OUT of being stuck in glue – he’s wondering the most effective way TO TRY TO BE STUCK IN GLUE and if, somewhere in my post, I’ve discovered some miracle glue solution that gets you stuck when, you know, you’re really looking to go nowhere.

And trust me, I’m pretty much the expert when it comes to going nowhere.

Curiousity piqued, I click on the ‘Home’ page of the site.

Here’s what I see:



It’s a fetish.

For a minute there I thought people were doing weird shit with glue for sexual gratification.


Imma gonna click on it!

All I can say is that it’s a good thing they reserved the room because this has ‘we’re here for an extended stay’ written all over it.

When I went to save the picture, I found out what it’s actually named:

I have to admit here that I’m a little turned on with the blue chick.…

Please note that this photo is actually named ‘Face full of Alien’ and I did not write that but I’m really confused at who thinks that a bi-pedal catwoman wearing fuzzy slippers (redundant) with Alien stuck to her face is a boner inducing turnon.

If you’re out there raising your hand right now, please leave and never ever come back.

It’s at this point that I’m ready to bail on this website because (a) it’s getting weird and (b) it’s almost lunch time and I’ve been writing this post for, like, 2 hours now and it’s time I had a break.

Plus they’re serving chicken wings in the cafeteria today.

I hope my fingers don’t get sticky.

Like the rest of the United States and Canada and, apparently, giant flocks of birds, I’ve been battling a wicked cold and cough and chest congestion that feels like little Cough Nazis are invading my Lung Poland.

It makes sense in my head.

So, of course, I do what everyone else does who has been sick forever and made a doctors appointment.

Just kidding.

I Googled it.

Thanks to the wonderful world of Google’s ‘autofill’ which tries to guess what you’re going to type next, please follow me through the things that pop up when I simply try Googling ‘I have chest congestion.’

Sadly, this is not my first tussle with Google. Nor, do I predict, will it be my last.

Let’s begin:

Of course, ‘autofill’ changes every time you type in another letter but I was, like, ‘wtf is Planck’s constant?’ so for those of you morbidly curious I went to wikipedia:

The Planck constant (denoted h), also called Planck’s constant, is a physical constant reflecting the sizes of quanta in quantum mechanics.


Then I was thinking “oh…your’s so BIG and then “quantum” got me thinking about Quantum Leap which, honestly, ended much too soon.

blah blah blah I miss Scott Bakula on television.


His next search:

“I have a dream that I have friends”

Let’s keep going…

And remember, kids:

“Chlamydia” is just an anagram for “Clam day, hi.”

Seems strangely appropriate.

Who’s up now?


Maybe you have chest pains because of ALL THE CHEESEBURGERS.

Just sayin’.

AH. We’re here!

So I finished Googling and really didn’t feel like digging for answers because after the “Planck’s constant” bullshit I honestly had a frigging headache on top of my chest congestion so I just decided to go home and take some Nyquil and then had nightmares involving Scott Bakula and Martin Luther King attacking me in college with cheeseburgers.

I hate you, Google.

Ah…to be a scientist.

I got an email the other day from one of my friends from High School.


Rob is credited as being the only other person in the kitchen when I worked as a chef to conduct science experiments in the walk-in freezer.

What’s that waitress?

You have an order for baked stuffed lobster?

Sure thing.

I’ll get to it as soon as I calculate how much more mold grew on this piece of ham since last week.

Priorities, you know.

Turns out that the calculation took more time than I thought, since the ham actually grew limbs and then started fucking the provolone.

Ever try to separate horney limbed ham from violating it’s “love cheese?”

I’ve done it more than once and I can tell you that’s some tough shit, my friends.

Tough. Shit.

(“Horney Limbed Ham” and/or “Love Cheese” would be great names for rock bands)

Yes..they’re on the shirt.

Regardless, here’s the email I get:



You will never believe what came up as the first result in Google when I searched on:

ripped abs lesbians

I was searching for purely scientific reasons of course….

…or it was a typo, I forget which.

– rob


Ah…to search for hardbodied carpet munchers in the name of science.

I believe that’s how Newton discovered gravity.

He saw two ripped abs lesbians going down.




He either discovered it that way or something involving fruit.



Mental Poo came up in FIRST in a search for ‘ripped abs lesbians.’

Thanks for padding my search results, Rob, with even more freakier shit than usual.

I had no idea that was possible.

Moog out.



Just so you guys know I’m not making this shit up, I decided to take a screen shot of my latest search results from this morning.

What I’m not telling you is that the source from all of these are my house.

It’s a crazy zoo in here, full of apples and lesbians and elephantitus afflicted mentally challenged porn stars.

So. Awesome.