Yes of course they read your letters while you type them. We knew this.
Write ‘How now, brown cow?’ and you get ads for ‘Artificial Inseminators Near You! even before you hit ‘Send.’
But now it just got better. Or worse? Yes, I’m taking a ‘poll’. (Cue illiterate ‘poll-dancer’s‘ ads. Uh-huh, with the extraneous apostrophe. GIGO, as they say.)
See, I just wrote a short note to my friend/rental supervisor, and mentioned that I was ‘sending him a file.’
I hit ‘Send’ having blithely forgotten to attach the thing. And Google came creepily to my Rescue with this pop-up, a new one for me at least. Take a look:
The Reader needs to know that I routinely forget to attach the file I’ve just talked about. Half of my out-going messages start: ‘Oops, forgot to send the file, duh. But now, luckily, it shall never happen again. Neither will my cattle go un-bred, nor my poles be unadorned by topless dancers with bottomless whatevahs. Thanks, Google.
So you’re probably already asking “What’s next?”
Well yes, I do have a few more that I’ve heard are ready to be launched as we speak…
1) Let’s say you write: “I’ll tell you the story about my Mom and her new gay Armenian lover in a second, but first: Hasn’t it been warm lately, blah blah blah…?” Then try to send that without spilling all the gory details to your BFF. You’ll get THIS:
2) You begin a letter:
‘Dear PP&L, my trusted, caring partner serving my residential electricity needs for over 70 years:
Go fuck yourselves, and stick your incomprehensible on-line statements back up your ass where they came from!’
3) And finally, as @blonde_apocalypse found out, (or will, after Xanga starts with the ‘smarter than y’all’ snooping over the shoulder), don’t expect to write THIS, without consequences:
“So anyway, I bought a book in the airport at Tel Aviv before a flight to the States. Three years later(!) when we finally landed, I’d finished the dumb thing seven times, the guy in the next seat had grown a beard, and my little daughter, born somewhere over Cyprus, was entertaining the passengers with Shirley Temple imitations.”
Google, partnered with Xanga, to the rescue:
There ya go. Brave New World, isn’t it.
Oops, forgot to add the pix. Thanks Goo-goo.
WU: So that’s what it was. I thought it was a virus, got a blizard of pop-ups!
Me: Whadya write, Wu?
WU: I wuz breaking up with my girl. Typed: “My dear loving sweetheart! I’m attaching a picture of our cute little pussy-cat, but first I wanna tell you an amazing story about what happened this morning on the bus. Well, under the bus. You probably wouldn’t get the joke. In fact, now that I think of it, I’m pretty damn sick of you and your dumb-ass cat. I been feeding the thing for like, 150 years and do you ever thank me? I hate you, tell the truth. P.S: your cat is dead.”
Me: Yeah, you hit em all there, buddy. Sorry about that. At least you got the
dating-site ads now, right on the page.