Don’t get me wrong google- there are times where I love you.

There are times that if I had any greater amorous feelings towards you I’m pretty sure there’d be a fourth grader running along at any moment telling me to marry you.

You do so much right. If I’m looking for a recipe? You never let me down. Even if I make it really difficult and say something like “recipe for ground venison and frozen broccoli”, you can make it happen.

Need help remembering how to spell a word? Auto-fill is there to cradle me in my moment of self doubt. Granted you don’t always get it right. For example the other day I couldn’t remember if Herman was spelled with an ‘a’ or an ‘o’.  I mean looking at it now it totally makes sense that it’s an ‘a’ but the other day I couldn’t remember so I turned to you google and I started typing “herma” and before I could get any further auto-fill joined the party and offered up “hermaphrodite jamie lee curtis”. Wrong. Just wrong. I don’t know what to say to that beyond, well, wrong.

But for the most part, auto-fill is my friend.

Let’s discuss how amazing you are when it comes to proving me right. A-ma-ze-ing. I can not tell you how many times MrBunny has said, “there’s no way that is right” and I quickly respond with “I will lay naked in the street if I’m wrong” and out comes the phone to save the little shred of dignity I have left.

*If my husband happens to read this he will try and convince you that there have been many times I’ve made the naked in the street threat and have been proven wrong but never followed through but he is often suffers from delusions so just go ahead and let him keep thinking that- it’s the kind thing to do.

There are a thousand more examples of why I love you but if I were to list them all we’d be here all day so let’s cut to the chase.

Even with all these reasons to love you, I hate you.

I hate you with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. I hate you more than I hate Preparation-H commercials. I mean come on- they are not at all realistic. Dude gets up to the checkout and lady asks him if he found everything and he goes, well you know… and launches into his whole ass itch saga. First- why are you discussing your ass itch with the cashier? Trust me- she does not care. At all. Second- you forgot your ass itched and was on fire? If you’ve reached the point in which you need the Prep than you are more than likely not going to be forgetting it.

See google? I hate Preparation-H commercials, and I hate you more than Preparation-H commercials. That’s a lot of hate.

Why do I hate you this much? Two words: Doctor Google.

Nothing good has ever, ever, ever, ever come from Doctor Google.

When I google symptoms for myself I am always dying, never fails. Have a particularly painful hangnail? Sign of impending death. Headache? Brain tumor. Throbbing pain in my hip? Cancer. Same throbbing pain in shoulder? Heart attack.

And no matter what the symptom is and what Dr. Google’s diagnosis is- it always includes lupus. Every single time. Amazing really.

But Dr. Google’s real transgressions don’t occur in the human arena. Oh no- it saves the real doozies for the animal members of our families.

Having three dogs, I’ve turned to you google more times than I can ever begin to count. Most of the times the answers are rather benign. But sometimes, oh sometimes! those search results are just brutal.

Example: this evening I notice that Ninja has these weird sores around her eye. Of course I turn to Doctor Google. First few results are harmless albeit useless, yahoo answers type of things. Then I clicked on a result that will forever haunt me.

Turns out the sores are caused by some sort of mite (this is my own diagnosis- she’s going to the vet tomorrow) which in and of itself if disturbing. But this site took it a bit further by having an illustration of said mite. And as if that wasn’t bad enough- it was animated.

The mite was moving.

I repeat- the mite was moving.

So google- I am placing the blame for the overall creepy crawly feeling I’ve got now, solely on you. When I can’t sleep tonight- I’m calling you, somehow. When I have to drug myself to sleep, I’m sending you the bill.

How much do horse tranquilizers cost? Give me a minute and I’ll google it.