You Autocomplete Me

Following a previous foray into searching for something on the information superhighway, I discovered the apparently popular phrase 'Fancy a rank?', thanks to Google's unintentionally hilarious Autocomplete function. Autocomplete is like purposefully leaving sentences unfinished in front of a hyperactive autist, so desperate to solve the quandary of your half-utterance that they resort to suggesting that you were meaning to talk about the Third Reich, daisy-chaining, or well, both.

Anyway, there are a lot of clever people out there, like the clever person who pointed me in the direction of Autocomplete Me, a blog which highlights exactly these esoteric autocomplete results. Here's a taster:



A big shout out also goes to the clever people who unfortunately thought up the idea of this blog before I did. Kudos, dudos. In other news I have been using my powers of the Russian language for the questionable purpose of helping friends to get a bit of lady love, and hand-crafting the most intricate and boring spreadsheet known to man.

You, who do you fancy?

I was well up for a drink last night. In London there are literally kagooglezillions of pubs, ranging from the god awful to the sublime, and in each category prices can range from the bargainous to the eye-extractingly exclusive. The website I wanted was the very good Fancy A Pint, but as I was making my way there (in true stand-up comedy fashion), look what happened:



Oh dear. What a damning indictment of (specifically British) society. I wouldn't normally mind, but I was secretly ashamed of myself at the 'fancy a bum' reference, pointed at a particular section of Friday night cringe-fest Balls Of Steel, which, as puerile as it is, actually makes me laugh, mostly due to the relentless nature of the interrogation, and the chap's incredibly serious facial expression. Judge for yourself:




Sorry about that.