Tag Archives: Google

Fun Timez

Type a few of the following leads to questions into Google. It returns the most popular searches.


Gullibility is …

My inability to lie developed in my late teens. It came around the time I just got sick of the bullshit popularity in school, longed for college and promised to always say what I thought. To me, honesty is one of the best qualities in a person. A liar is someone who cannot account for their truths.

In appreciating honesty, I often expect truth and in doing so, I am incredibly gullible. Now and again, friends feed me false information, which I rarely question. Later, when I think it through clearly, I realise it is horse shit.

About three years ago, in one of my many jobs, I decided to take a basic ECDL course to demonstrate my proficiency in Microsoft. Each week, I attended a class or two with view to completing an exam. Needless to say, the exams were simple and I passed all modules. One day after work, over tea and scones in Bewley’s, I told Brian that I was doing basic ECDL.

“Is it not boring?” Brian enquired, lifting the tea cup to his mouth.

“Nah, there is good craic in the class. And I get a certificate at the end of it.”

“Do you know that ECDL was invented by the same people who created the Special Olympics?”

“No, it wasn’t.” I scrunched my face, digesting this odd, titbit of information.

Brian nodded energetically. “Think about it. It makes sense.”

The conversation quickly moved on. I thought no more on his claim.

One week later, I sat in the training room behind an antiquated PC. The ECDL tutor and ten other students awaited the tea trolley. We usually chatted for ten minutes or so before starting a class. A knock on the door, followed by the comforting clink of tea cups, signified the arrival of refreshments. We jumped to our feet and gathered around the customary offering of fancy biscuits. Only when biscuits were placed next to full, steaming cups, did we return to our seats. The subject matter of our conversations was always inoffensive. We chatted about current affairs, weather or television, injecting a good dose of humour when possible. As per usual, I was the chattiest.

I piped up once my dunked biscuit was swallowed. “Is it true the ECDL was invented by the Special Olympics?” I directed my question at the tutor.

“Excuse me?” said the tutor. I noted an element of surprise in her voice.

I repeated my question.

She stuttered momentarily. “I don’t think so,” she said. She looked around the room at the other faces in the class.

“A mate of mine told me ECDL was invented by Special Olympics. If you think about it, it makes sense. I mean it was probably created to encourage disabled persons into the workplace by promoting their IT literacy.”

“I never heard that before.” The tutor’s eyes were wide. “Are you sure your friend isn’t feeding you misinformation?”

“No, he’s not like that. I’ll try a Google search and see what I get.”

I ran “Special Olympics ECDL” through Google and received irrelevant matches. “I got no matches,” I announced to the class.

Another student Deirdre joined the chat. “Stephen, I think your friend might be taking the piss.”

“He’s not like that,” I assured. “Why would he do that?”

The tutor picked up the ECDL manual. Tea break was over. “I’ll ask in the office, but I honestly don’t think your friend’s claim is right.” She commenced the class.

While she gave us instructions on how to set up our computers for the upcoming class, I picked up my phone and texted Brian.

“Brian, I am in my ECDL course at the moment. Where did you hear about it being invented by the Special Olympics?”

Brian replied within minutes. “It was a joke.”

“OMG I just told my entire ECDL course it was invented by the Special Olympics people.”

“You muppet! I cannot stop laughing.”

I sat back in my chair taken aback by the fact I had absorbed Brian’s misinformation on the creation of ECDL. It was clearly ridiculous. Not only had I not questioned whether it was truthful, I obviously thought on it enough to embellish it for my “encourage disabled persons into the workplace” spiel. An all too rare embarrassment came down over me. I blushed. I kept my realisation to myself and prayed the tutor would not follow up on my query with her colleagues later that day.

Foulada, The Chilled Drink of Fouls

Over the weekend, some friends and I went to Kilkenny on a pseudo-hen. The weekend was a refined affair involving afternoon tea, dinner, private screening of a movie, colossal breakfast and access to a spa. It was most pleasant. Unfortunately, there was one incident that left a black mark on the whole experience. This smear came in the form of what was is known as “Foulada”.

Foulada was first encountered on the menu of an Asian infusion type restaurant. It was described as “rose jelly, chilled milk and ice-cream”. This had to be experienced to be believed. I anticipated an authentic Asian treat. It arrived at the table and was exactly as described; jelly, milk and ice-cream. The jelly was chopped up through the – what was by now – pink milk. Shredded fruit (or carrot) provided much needed texture.

A minute or two into the exploratory investigation that was my dessert, I realised there was peanuts in it too – Foulada with peanut surprise. You probably ask why I ordered this concoction. I opted for Foulada because it just sounded too ghastly to be true. I doubted any self-respecting restaurant would put it on the menu unless they deemed it a surprise to the unsuspecting open-minded individual.

Today, I reminded myself to Google “Foulada”. I was convinced that the hotel had obviously created some botched version of an Asian delicacy. Look at my Google results. Never have I seen such sparse results for any Google search. This dessert is rare or something the hotel restaurant made up. The fourth match in the search is the hotel’s menu. How funny is that? foulada

Ornamental Purposes

I was home over the weekend to visit the Mammy. The purpose of my visit was to get her up and running on the laptop I bought for her 60th.

Boyfriend did all the necessary things one must do to a new laptop. He hooked it up to the broadband and installed the software. Mum did not like the abundance of colourful wires that splayed from the laptop’s rear.

“I thought broadband was wireless. Why are there so many cables?”

We explained what a wireless router was and that she would have to buy one.

“I will buy one after my holiday in France,” she comforted us.

The laptop sat on the counter top all weekend. Occasionally, Boyfriend and I put it to use. Mum admired it from a safe distance next to the kettle.

“It really is a nice laptop, isn’t it? I like the size.”

I’m concerned the laptop has become no more than a techie addition to the various ornaments she has around the house.

Before we departed for Dublin, on Sunday, she asked Boyfriend to show her “how to get on Google”.

“I like Google,” she said in an affectionate tone.