I'm A Scaroogler. There, I Said It (but I won't search it).
I am a conservative Googler. More than conservative, I would actually use the word scared. I am a scared Googler, a Scaroogler. I only ever Google, or click on, the most obviously innocent, law abiding, and morally sound internet information and websites. If I accidentally (no quotation marks needed) click on something that even bears a tiny resemblance to something untoward or inappropriate, I ‘back’ so fast my fingers nearly catch on fire.
Having this blog has opened my eyes even more regarding what my fellow crazy humans type into their search engines. On my administration page I can see where my site visitors have come from. Some are followers or from Facebook (hi FB friends and followers!), some are from blog directories, and some have Google-searched something and Google has suggested my page as a search result.
Folks who search for 'Black Eyed Kid' encounters end up here, those who search for 'Super Mum' arrive here. But then there are those who arrive on my blog after plugging in 'I have a pencil stuck in my vagina' (whaaaaaaaat?!) and 'bum her silly' (would a comma make any difference?) and, just today, 'photos of shitcakes' (to go with the photos of shitdoublecream?).
But not me, oh no. I am generally searching for pure and godly topics like 'lovely sunsets' and 'cleaning (various spills) off the couch.'
Why am I such a Scaroogler? Because I am not a weirdo with stationery stuck in my girl bits? No (and, um, yes).
You know those images on the news of police officers hauling hard drives and computers out of people’s houses in over-sized bags?
I know they are usually walking out of the haunts of hardened criminals with crucial evidence, but sometimes they are just visiting (?) innocent people who know criminals, and oh yes sometimes they are visiting completely innocent people who are victims of crime or have somehow been innocently caught up in something criminal. Those police just take everyone’s hard drives. Right?!
So I have this persistent weird little thought in my subconscious that one day my hard drive will be examined by the authorities.
I don’t think it helped that my old workplaces constantly informed all employees that they were monitoring (read ‘spying’) what websites we visited and what emails we sent just to be sure no one was abusing the system and social networking and/or attending to personal matters and/or committing fraudulent activity at work.
I used to imagine being called down to the IT department to find the big bosses shaking their heads and perusing my ‘history’. Perhaps they would see that I Googled ‘how do I deal with a narcissistic arsehole boss?’ or ‘why do I dribble so much while I sleep?’ or ‘funny monkeys wearing nappies and rollerskating.’ The IT dudes would tell everyone what happened and I would be fired with bonus maximum humiliation and shame.
Now I don’t want you to think I have a huge desire to research criminal activities or lowbrow seediness, but I do feel like I am the only person in the world that hasn’t checked out amateur porn (or any kind of porn), searched how to 'bum her silly' (as at least one person has) or Googled ‘Ryan Gosling shirtless’ (as at least 75% of the human population has, and probably some cats too).
Recently I was starting to string together a plot for a young adult novel. In it, the protagonist poisons a number of people in various ways. I have no idea how she would do that as I have never poisoned, or tried to poison, any people (did you get that, authorities?!). I suspect most people would just Google ‘different ways to poison someone’ but I didn’t. I couldn’t.
What if someone I know one day dies and there is some evidence that they had been poisoned?? Quicker than you can say ‘I was just researching for a book’ the cops would have taken away my hard drive, released a statement to the local press saying I had allegedly Googled ‘how to poison someone’ and I would be left to rot in prison, never to see my children again.
Clearly I have decided not to write that story. But after writing this post I have a new plot idea for a novel. It’s about a girl with too much imagination, and a sprinkling of paranoia, who is clearly in need of some therapy but is too scared to do the essential internet research that would cure her.
And I know what you are thinking, there is only one kind of therapy that could cure that girl….