If you didn’t hear, Google just announced that users will not be able to opt out of new privacy changes.
Want to know what Google guesses about you? The team at Ars Technica created a game that lets you know - and results are often somewhat funny. Just click here!
“Music & Audio” and “Animal Welfare.”
Google knows that I like to make myself cry all the time.
When Harry Met Sally 2 with Billy Crystal and Helen Mirren
This is the funniest thing on the internet right now. As in, actually funny. Not ironically stupid.
On a wonderful, sunny, summer morning, my friends and I made a trip to the highly unknown, and terribly unpopular theme park: Pubica! We were initially very excited to finally encounter the fourth worst tourist destination ever created (ranking higher than the Slave for a Day theme park!), however, once we reached the entrance, we weren’t quite as enthralled.
First of all, to even get to the front gate, was a seemingly unnecessary hassle. The owners decided to build their disaster of an idea next to Narnia, of all places. So while there was a wardrobe to enter that ever more popular world, we were forced to knock down the wall beside the doorway to lion messiahs. It was surely not the most enlightening aspect of our trip. Eventually, after a worthwhile effort of everyone in my company, the wall decided to give way to our place of interest.
An ideal group, we had pre-ordered our tickets on eBay to avoid long lines, though, upon arrival, it was obvious we would have the entire park to ourselves. In fact, it seemed Pubica had been neglected for some time, looking grim and uninviting. Before us was an aqua, pear shaped gate. The unusually bright colored paint was still drying, and it clashed unmeasurably with the gray steel platform below it. While I took this as a bad sign, no one else feared moving forward with the plan to enter the park.
There were no bag searches or metal detectors; this place was old-school and my group of friends became more enthusiastic that they wouldn’t have to explain the guns they typically store in their pockets and the brass knuckles they wear for decoration.
I made a dash for the first ride, Pubic Hair Pines. The name of the ride seemed strange, and upon closer inspection, we could faintly see that the original title was, Pubic Hair Penis. We were about to get on line (well, there were really no lines,) but apparently it was currently under construction. A man about three feet tall approached us and explained, “Oh, by law we have to say that this attraction is under construction, but your party can get on, no biggie!”
Proceeding to hop in the single car the ride consisted of, the man began his monologue, filled with glee. “Every human learns to yearn for the stage of puberty. Once he or she reaches this life-changing point in their life, they generally mature physically, and occassionally, mentally as well. When this happens, patches of hair begin to grow on the poorly deemed, ‘private’ parts of the human body. This is called pubic hair. Please come back to Pubica to learn more when Pubic Hair Pines is completed! We’re sorry your adventure can not continue further. Have a good day!”
Afterwards, we unbuckled our rusty seat belts, and followed our new friend into a store a mere fifty feet away. Rigo bought mints for the little man. Rebeca found a hair clip that greatly resembled a lump of coal. I, of course, bought several books written in morse code. “You speak the ancient dot language?” asked the little man. I grit my teeth at his seeming ignorance, but determined that his lack of knowledge was surely not his own fault. The man shared the story of how his father died tragically having sex with a prostitute after taking ecstasy and contracting a very quick moving STD that killed him 3 hours into his last sexual act. The theme park was a family business, and he inherited the only thing his father ever loved.
His story touched us in places we cannot begin to describe. sHe also shared with us that there really were no other rides open due to his inability to pay even a seasonal staff because of his own addiction to alcohol and crack-cocaine. Sympathizing for this poor, lonely, lost man, we offered to play a game of tag to encourage him that exercise was much better than feeding his addictions. Everyone bonded and we brought the man home to play Scrabble.
THE END.
