Where has THIS been all my life?!

During one of my last pre-new-roommate nights, I decided to take full advantage of still being alone in my apartment by ordering terrible food in that I could eat far too much of, while sitting around in my pajamas and crying hysterically to chick flicks (it’s possible I was also PMSing). If no one’s there to judge me, it’s like it never happened.

I decided on pizza.

Somehow, though, nothing for me is ever simple.

I knew Pizza Hut usually had pretty good deals so I googled their number. A nice young woman answered the phone:

Woman: “Hi, Pizza Delight, how may I help you?”

Me: “Huh? What? I’m looking for Pizza Hut… What’s happening?!”

Her (slowly): “This is Pizza Delight. I don’t know Pizza Hut’s number – that’s an entirely different restaurant chain.”

Me (kind of laughing hysterically from confusion and starting to ramble): “Of course you don’t! It appears my Google app lied to me. I totally searched for Pizza Hut, I swear. This is embarrassing. And funny. For me. For you it’s mostly a waste of time. I’m so sorry. I don’t want your pizza. Your pizza’s really good though! I was just looking for Pizza Hut.”

I tried to Google it again when I got off the phone, because as we all know, Google likes to fuck with me. But of course now everything is showing up normally because Google’s all “Ha! No one will believe you now!”

So on round two, I actually reach Pizza Hut.

Random Pizza Hut employee: “Hi, Pizza Hut. How can I help you?”

Me: “Hi! My friend told me you’re supposed to have some kick-ass deals on a medium pizza right now? Is that one particular kind, or can I pick the toppings? How does this deal work?”

Him: “Ummm, I think I know the special you’re talking about but that’s over now.”

Me (crushing disappointment): “Oh… I don’t know where to go from here. Do you have any pizza and garlic finger combos on right now?”

Him: “We have a medium pizza and 12 breadsticks on for $23.99* right now.”

Me: “Are breadsticks what you call garlic fingers?”

Him: “No, they are bread sticks baked with garlic. You can also add cheese to them, so they’re kind of like garlic fingers.”

Me: “Ok… I don’t want that. What about chicken pizza**? Do you guys do those? Chicken, spinach, feta, red onion, that kinda thing? Or BBQ Chicken?”

Him: *Lists the variety of chicken pizzas they have*

Me: “Ok, so how much for a medium?”

(We then go through 5 minutes of setting up a ‘customer profile’ for me because I’ve never ordered from there before – to answer a simple question)

Him: “That will be one kazillion*** dollars.”

Me: “Oh… ok. Can I you a call back?”

Him: “I assume I can cancel out of this right?”

Me (laughing nervously): “Yes, yes, best do.”

I hang up the phone.

THIS time I decide to order online (from a third place I might add, cause I know they have a good special), despite never having done so before because I usually prefer the phone. But I had reached my quota of awkward phone calls for the day.


Ordering Online,




I mean, probably you know that because I assume I’m the last person on earth to not have ordered pizza online yet.

But I was real excited about the tracker. I immediately had to text people about it:


When the teenaged kid showed up at my door with the pizza I was still excited about the tracker.

Me: “I’ve never ordered pizza online before!”

Him (rather uninterested): “Oh yeah?”

Me: “There’s a tracker! It told me Mark was making my pizza, so I immediately texted a friend about it and we started talking about Mark’s wife and kids and stuff.”

Him (suddenly sporting a terrified look): “What?”

Me: “We were joking. Satire? I don’t actually know Mark.”

Me (rambling again): “I assumed he was a teenager without a wife and kids, and my joke would be painfully obvious. Apparently not.”

Him: “…”

Me: “…”

Me: “Would you just like to give me my pizza and go?”

I’m never talking to the delivery people again. It ends badly for everyone involved.

*I don’t know the actual price so I made it up but it was in that general vicinity.

**I love chicken pizza. The ‘sell-your-soul’ kinda love.

***It was not a kazillion dollars. But it might as well have been, because it was out of my price range.

PS – You’re welcome for the free advertising; Pizza Hut, Pizza Delight, and Domino’s. If you could all hook me up with free pizza for life I’d call it even.

PPS – No seriously, though. Give me free pizza. I’m hungry.

Google Is Stalking Me

So you all know that I took a trip recently. On the way home, I was sitting in a bar during a layover enjoying a far too over-priced beer at the Montreal airport while doodling in my travel journal, when I noticed something strange on my Google homepage.

When I opened the Google app on my phone, below the search bar where it usually displays weather and stuff, was this:


Google knew exactly which flight I was taking and decided to be overly helpful and display it’s details and status without any prompting.

I get that Google got the details from my email, but still. It’s kinda creepy. Like the stalker that would make an incredible assistant because they already know your schedule, except for the fact that they’re totally stalking you.

Please stop stalking me Google. Also, everyone knows that the key to a good relationship is trust and I can’t trust you if you’re reading my emails behind my back without my permission. That’s like relationship 101 Google.

Get your shit together.

And also thank you. That was super helpful.

I really don’t know how to feel here.

PS – this is the doodle I was working on when I discovered that Google was stalking me. Oddly very apt.


Oh Google. You’re silly.

If you follow my blog you know that I Google everything and it often makes me stop and shake my head.  So without further ado… it’s time for another edition of ‘WTF Google?’


There are three things to address about this picture:

  1. Yes, Twitter often confuses me.
  2. I’ve already forgotten what larceny is.  Some kind of theft perhaps?
  3. The third most googled thing is “What time is it?”

Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you usually use Google on devices that have built in clocks? But then the other side of my brain went “Wait! What if this is some super funny internet thing?!

So I googled it.


It was not.

I know, I know.  I’m just adding to the problem. But also? My phone and Google disagree about what time it is by almost 5 minutes.  How will I ever know what time it is now?!


PS – I really hope larceny isn’t some terrible thing and I’m going to offend everybody by including it in this post.

PS – I should probably just google it.

PSS – But googling it in a post about weird Google searches and only having to address it because it’s in my Google history? Seems wrong. Like it might open a tear in the fabric of space and time.  I don’t wanna be that person.

PSSS – I Googled it. I had to know. I’d be the worst person to guard the fabric of space and time. Don’t give me that job.

PSSSS – Actually, that job sounds awesome.  Is that a thing?

PSSSSS – Sorry, got off track real quick there.  Larceny is “(n.) theft of personal property”. I was totally right. My brain is awesome.

PSSSSSS – Sometimes.


Comment(s) of the day:

“PSS – I am now on the Google homepage and I can’t leave because I’m distracted by today’s Google animation. THERE IS A TALKING PENGUIN THAT YOU CAN APPARENTLY SEE FROM SPACE.

PSSS – Okay, apparently today’s Google is supposed to be in honor of Sally Ride, the first American woman in space. It’s not supposed to be all about the cute ass penguin.”

That’s from Jamie, an absolutely hilarious girl who writes Fits of Wit.  You should go check her out. Seriously. Go right now.