I am a magnet for fucked up shit! Please peruse my offerings, for you are sure to conclude the same:
The other day I searched Google for something normal. Yes, really! Something normal! I do sometimes look for normal stuff. But Google is a living, thinking being, a big computer brain that is alive and emotional, a shit-stirrer disguised as a computer program. And he saw me coming! He said “Oh joy! Here comes Bananaflee (that’s my name for the purposes of this story). How can we screw with her head today?” He then replied to himself (he likes to talk to himself and reply to his own questions as if he were many people, but he doesn’t actually have multiple personality disorder or even a mildly fractured mind) “Lightbulb moment!!! Let’s bring to her a bloke with a really itchy bumhole! Future goal: We have got to get her onto a dating site!” “Oh my God!” he exclaimed to himself “I’m a genius!”
So, among the sites that Google brought to me in response to my search (my normal search for a normal nerdy thing) was a site with a bloke complaining that his bumhole was severely itchy all the time and that his lotions and sprays didn’t fix the problem. He said he’d heard that there were two primary causes for his condition (known in professional medical circles as diabolically-itchy-bumhole-syndrome): (a) not wiping properly, or (b) too much spicy food. My question is: What is he doing with all this spicy food?!?! Vindaloo goes in your mouth, not down the back of your pants! And do his frequent lonely hand ‘n’ sausage love cuddles involve an Old El Paso jalapeno pepper up the bum? Why would he want to do that? What a sicko!
So why does Google pick on me? Me, the innocent Bananaflee? Whenever anyone else searches for a normal nerdy thing, Google comes back to them with the gift of a list of ranked maths educational websites and websites containing grumpy cats!