God, that was unnerving.
Today is my birthday. And as I go to check something on Google, this is what confronts me:
How creepy is that? It's the internet equivalent of waking up to find a polaroid of yourself asleep pinned to the headboard. Have I ever given Google my birthdate? I don't think so. Surely I haven't. But maybe Google know everything about all of us. What am I saying- of course Google know everything about all of us. What's sinister is that now, apparently, they're not afraid to show it.
'Hey. You. Happy Birthday. Yeah, that's right, we know your birthday. And your address, your passwords, your pin number, your credit rating, and what you did last summer. So, enjoy the cake, punk. And watch yourself.'
(Either that, or this is Google's birthday too. I know which I believe.)
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6 comments:
Feliz Cumpleanos/Happy birthday to you.
*Starts making a cake.*
John, you sound like a "hiding behind the bushes sort of feller". Fair play to you, I suppose.
Are you a "hiding behind the bushes sort of feller" John? Because if you are, I may have to stop being your girlfriend.
You may enjoy this (however I could not presume to know).
http://xkcd.com/792/
If you were born on the 28th September, were you the oldets in your year?
You think that's unnerving? Wait until you see your own name on an obituary. Whilst clear that it's not yours, there is a nagging doubt in the back of your mind for the rest of the day that maybe something happened and your living some weird version of The Sixth Sense. Or is that deading some weird version of the Sixth Sense?
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