Kendall Almerico - Whoogles: Can a Dog Make a Woman Pregnant? . . .And Hundreds of Other Searches That Make You Ask Who Would Google That?

Whoogles

Can a Dog Make a Woman Pregnant?

... and Hundreds of Other
Searches That Make You Ask
Who Would Google That?

Kendall Almerico and Tess Hottenroth

Copyright 2010 by Kendall Almerico and Tess Hottenroth
All rights reserved.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any
form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are
made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

Published by
Adams Media, a division of F+W Media, Inc.
57 Littlefield Street, Avon, MA 02322. U.S.A.
www.adamsmedia.com

ISBN 10: 1-4405-1086-5
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-1086-1
eISBN 10: 1-4405-1111-X
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-1111-0

Printed in the United States of America.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
is available from the publisher.

This publication is designed to provide accurate and authoritative information with regard to the subject matter covered. It is sold with the understanding that the publisher is not engaged in rendering legal, accounting, or other professional advice. If legal advice or other expert assistance is required, the services of a competent professional person should be sought.

From a Declaration of Principles jointly adopted by a Committee of the
American Bar Association and a Committee of Publishers and Associations

Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their product are claimed as trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book and Adams Media was aware of a trademark claim, the designations have been printed with initial capital letters.

This book was not approved, authorized, reviewed,
or endorsed by Google Inc., its associates, or affiliates.

This book is available at quantity discounts for bulk purchases.
For information, please call 1-800-289-0963.

Contents

Introduction

It all started out very innocently. I was doing research for a new book Im writing and needed to find out why tax day was set on April 15. Yes, I know, it sounds like a scintillating topic for a book, inevitably destined to be a New York Times bestseller. So I did what every person on the planet with access to the Internet does. I opened my laptop, and went to my favorite search engine, that ultimate authority on everything in the world. No, I did not go to Wikipedia, Im not that kind of girl. I went to Google to find the answer. As I started typing my inquiry, something unexpected happened. I had only typed the letters Why is t when I noticed the box of results that the Gods of Google so thoughtfully displayed for me. At the very top of the results, staring at me from my glowing screen of profound knowledge, was this gem:

Why is there a dead Pakistani on my couch?

Huh?

My first thought was, how did this search result get on Google? Did someone actually wake up and find an Islamabadian corpse next to Rover on their Corinthian leather loveseat? And, if so, why was their first reaction to ask Google about the morbid discovery? Why not dial 911?

I called my business consultant and the funniest person I know, Kendall Almerico. After his initial misunderstanding of my conversation and his sage advice to quickly get together some large plastic bags, a hack saw, and some bleach, he too began to see the hilarity that resulted from even the most inane questions to the Gods of Google.

We spent the next several hours on the telephone, amazed at what many seemingly innocuous Google searches produced. Not only could we not stop laughing, but we sat with our mouths wide open in utter shock at the indisputable idiocy of a good number of Internet users. In order to show up in these searches, somebody must have actually typed these prizes into Google at some point. The pervasiveness of searches regarding pregnancy, bowel movements, and midgets could not go overlooked. We started collecting these wonderful morsels of moronity, and wondered out loud: Who Googled that? We said it so many times, we decided to call these nuggets of idiocy Whoogles.

This book is a collection of our favorites, along with the thoughts that went through one of our heads as we found each one. We hope you enjoy them as much as we do. And, when you start finding these Whoogles yourself, feel free to share them with everyone at our website: www.whoogles.com.

And of course, we feel it necessary to put a disclaimer in here also. This collection of Whoogles is culled from real Google searches and real suggestion results. We couldnt make up searches this stupid even if we wanted to. Some of the morons who use Google, and thus have afforded us with the opportunity to laugh at the generalized idiocy of members of our society, are racists, anti-Semites, misogynists, and other ists and ites whose views we do not share. Google is free and open to all people (except for the Chinese), but we will just leave that out of this for now. If it were not, we would be doing something other than writing this book. Our disagreement with their various points of view does not prevent us from enjoying some fodder and commenting on their stupidity.

This book is not owned by, affiliated with, or approved by Google. It should be, however, since we fully expect that this book and our website are going to drive up the number of Google searches as people try to find more of these hidden gems. As a result, Google is going to make a lot more money. (Note to Google: we expect a nice thank you and an annual Christmas card from here on out.) Maybe we should go online and type in How can I get Google to pay me for driving more traffic to them? Unfortunately, if we do that, one of the Whoogles will probably be How can I get George Clooney to enjoy an enema?

Tess Hottenroth

If you are asking Google to determine your level of sobriety, please stay out of your vehicle. Last time we checked, Google had not yet implemented the G-breathalyzer feature. But dont worry, there will be an app for that soon.

There is nothing more annoying than those freaking felines who refuse to turn down their ghetto blasters to an acceptable level.

Of course. We assume from the groans and the fact that most of them come wrapped in double ply Charmin that zombies are, in fact, not really monsters, but rather just sad victims of explosive diarrhea.

Note to self: next time get a rabies shot before Old Yeller goes on the attack.

When little Johnny is scared of the boogeyman hiding in his closet, or the monster under his bed, you can calm his fears by telling him this happy tale. No Johnny, there is nothing to be scared of. I checked your closet, and I looked under the mattress. Lets just hope you dont have that bed that eats people. Good night. Dont let the bed bugs bite!