Random Acts of Googlism

The Young and the Restless and The Wicked
You ever hear something along the lines of "Practice Random Acts of Kindness"? Well, I whole-heartedly believe in it and do just that...with one caveat: only for stray animals and wilted plants. Otherwise, as far as I'm concerned, if you've evolved enough to belong to the Human Race, you're just S.O.L. So, just consider the fact that you're not one of my ex-fiances to be my Random Act of Kindness to you.

With sincere apologies to Luke, David, Christian and Gordon. Hope things worked out for ya'll.

You can't say I don't try. This is my version of "Random Acts of Cool-Stuff-That-Will-Hook-You-Like-Crack"
You'll think it's great now...but in an hour or two, you'll be cursing my name. It's called Googlism. Now let me explain it first, dammit...then you can go get addicted. The site works with what Google has pulled up over time with certain words and phrases. You type in a word, a name, a date, a phrase...almost anything. Then it displays sentences, or parts of sentences that contain that word or phrase or date. The fun part is seeing what comes up when you put your name or whatever in, (It can get wild sometimes) and then just go from there. Try your birthday, anything you can think of ... naughty words are especially hilarious...so are ex-boyfriend's/girlfriend's/wife's/husband's names (for those of you so viciously inclined.) This is a short example listing of words and names...the link for Googlism is at the end.

One quick hint: Type in any word and you'll get results...you may have to work a little to get a more specific result. For example, typing in "sex" gets you pages of results. Typing "hot wild rabid throbbing sex" gets you nada. Typing in dania gets pages of results, but typing in Dania Goode Jones Davis or Dania Goode-Jones results in, well... In other words, the less specific, the more results and the more specific the fewer results.
But you're still gonna try wild throbbing sex, though, aren't you? Christ no one listens to me anymore. Fine, in the meantime...

Here are My Googlisms:


(First Thing I Typed In? My Name)
Googlism for: dania


dania is located in dania beach florida
dania is an antique lovers dream
(I wonder how much I would fetch at Sotheby's)
dania is characterized by elegance
dania is a very creative little girl
(Oh, you have NO idea how creative)
dania is an ergonomically designed seat suitable for most care applications
(Hmmmm)
dania is also available for individual appointments
(I usually don't advertise that)
dania is in the kitchen
(Wrong Dania)
dania is seeing snook and lots of jacks
(How the hell does anyone know about that?)
dania is typically traveled in under eight hours
(Not if he knows what he's doing)
dania is undergoing phased improvements
(Is that what I'm supposed to call it?)
dania is the place to go
dania is back



(Then My Birthday)
Googlism for: october 25

october 25 is the 298th day of the year
october 25 is crazy hair day
october 25 is 100 % non refundable
(Damn Straight! My Birthday SHOULD be guaranteed)
october 25 is punk for a day day
october 25 is an exciting day for us
(Isn't my birthday an exciting day for everyone?)
october 25 is a big day
(Deserving of big presents and big gifts)
october 25 is red reach out day


(Just Wanted to See)
Googlism for: my mother-in-law

(ya'll remember the website pulled these up, not me.)

my mother-in-law is trying to take over my life
my mother-in-law is so french
my mother-in-law is driving me insane
my mother-in-law is for sale/lease seriously


(Tried Another One)
Googlism for:
your ex-boyfriend


your ex-boyfriend is from the past
your ex-boyfriend is an asshole
your ex-boyfriend is a white wizard?
your ex-boyfriend is very confused




(And What Goes with Your Ex-Boyfriend?)
Googlism for:
my bedroom
(save your emails...i already know i'm evil)


my bedroom is already off grid
my bedroom is just to the left
my bedroom is quite weird
my bedroom is large orange
my bedroom is not my father's oldsmobile


(There's Even a Suggestion Section)
Googlism for: your head

your head is broken
your head is older than your feet
your head is possibly the most annoying thing in the world
your head is not required
your head is a rollicking fun album that exalts the freedom to have a dirty good time

(You Know I Had to Try This One)
Googlism for: the end of the world



the end of the world is not april 6
the end of the world is march 21st 2008
the end of the world is published on a semi
the end of the world is more than a golf thriller
the end of the world is a touching story of a man's return to his hometown after many years away


(You Don't Want to Know How My Mind Works)
Googlism for: my butt

my butt is just a big mac on the planet alderaan
my butt is raised and ready for entry sir
my butt is holy
my butt is disappearing
my butt is haunted
my butt is covered with soft fur
my butt is bwibwating; hey!
my butt is a dartboard
my butt is going to say something
my butt is growing again
my butt is green
my butt is a emergency parachute
my butt is happy

Oh believe me, there are some FREAKS out there in this world. I don't care what your secret, kinky, twisted, get-your-freak-on thing might be; I can promise you there are thousands and thousands more out there with the same high-heeled, leather-wearing midget-whipping fetish.
Actually, you'll probably have to specify whether you prefer a red-headed midget and spiked heels or red high-heels and a midget with spiked hair.

Now, go practice some Random Acts of Googlism yourself.


DED

Oh You Just THOUGHT You Had Seen Bizarre

There's a part of me that is just so not right. I know this. I take such delight in the absurd. I think the words "wickedly funny" should always go together.
So of course I love to be one-upped.
Tell me a joke that that I don't figure out the punch line halfway through, or even better; one that takes me a moment or two to get - I'll love you forever.
Show me something that makes me stop, focus, lean in slightly... then "oh.....my....god!". You've got me then. There are so many weird sites on the internet that you would think I would have reason to never leave the house.

If I can ever just reach down into my soul, find the Will and the Strength to truly believe, I will be able to join the Others who Worship the Great Holy Ones, The Holy Sea Monkey Gods on their Worship Homepage. I may NEVER have to leave the house again, ever...except maybe for a trip to the State "Happy" Hospital and the Thorazine Patrol.
Seriously though, there's a plethora of bizarre out there. But a girl's gotta be picky, you know? I mean, while I love the funny bizarre stuff, like discombobulated mystical heads, as far as news and "this-is-for-real" stuff, I only want the Honestly "this-is-real-stuff" Bizarre

I have no interest in the bullshit, fake, made up, photo-shop 3-headed woman who gave birth to the half mermaid baby or the "I Had The Best Sex of My Life with an Alien from Planet Wunhungloa"

I want reliable, backed up, Truly Unusual Weird. So, the following sites and information have been daniaspeak approved. Google anyone of them, AskJeeves them to death...call 411 if you want.

God I love getting the news...any news, really, but I can't get enough Bizarre News . These guys are great. One day I may show up at their door and just tell them that I've decided to work for them, whether they like it or not, and now where's my desk?

And while you might know that a chicken can live after its head has been cut off, did you know about Mike the Headless Chicken ? After his head was cut off he lived for YEARS. Yes...years. Poor bastard choked to death one day when he was being fed.
And wow are there some They-Were-Stoned-When-They-Came-Up-With-This festivals and events out there. I mean, how f*cked up do you have to be to look at your friends and say, "Guys, these corndogs are like, the best thing to like, ever happen, you know? We should do something to, you know, like, celebrate the corndog." Trust me, you know you have true friends when they look back at you through the haze of smoke and nod in agreement, "Right on, dude." And thus is born the Corndog Festival.
And that's just the proverbial tip of the iceberg. Sweet jesus and pope-on-a-rope, you could take a year off and plan a year-long vacation traveling around to some freaky festivals, bizarre events and sightseeing at strange collections.
Proud of your moustache and/or your beard? There's a World Championship for that. I'm not sure what they're proud of at the Testicle Festival
but I'll try anything once.
Now, while the whole idea of Interstate Mullet Tossing at the Florabama might be a little difficult to wrap around your brain, I can personally recommend this one. At least I can partially recommend it. The Florabama Bar, located on the state line of Florida and Alabama, right on the beach, has the best ruby red shrimp and draft beer on this planet. You don't tend to stay sober very long at the Florabama, so you should take a camera if you want an accurate record of how much fun you've had there.
Never mind, scratch that.

That's probably how several bizarre photos ended up on the internet in the first place.

Perhaps your bizarre tastes run a different direction. Then you should check out Toad Suck Days or something celebrating something about some Frozen Dead Guy Day .
I swear to god I'm not making these up. If any link doesn't work, it's because it's late right now , I'm reworking the code on 4 posts at once and I'm tired. Google anything though - it's there, promise.

And of course not everyone agrees on what BIZARRE truly is. It varies from one culture to another, and from one person to another. What's freaky weird strange to you may not be for me, and vice versa. For example: This guy here...your call. Bizarre? Not Bizarre?



See, I would have to go with Not Bizarre. And that's not from my San Francisco days. I've just been to way too many Mardi Gras parties in and around New Orleans (trust me, it's the parties leading up to Fat Tuesday that are freaky), and there are some things you see in the Deep South that truly do defy definition, and after time, cease to appear so bizarre. If the guy in the above picture was about 30 years older and riding a John Deere lawn mower instead of a motorcycle, that would be Mr. Fred. I used to live in the same town. We just didn't take pictures. It would have been rude. He wasn't bizarre...a little different, maybe, but he was old and it was hot and he had a big yard.

And then there's this example:

Now many, if not most of you out there, will see this photo and giggle or snicker, perhaps even laugh, and think to yourself "How the FUCK does someone manage to do something like this?" You're thinking to yourself that this is an extreme case of bad driving/bad parking...something that just goes against the laws of physics and credibility. Well, you want to know what I say?
I say Fuck You.
I say that this might not totally be the guy's fault. There could be a perfectly reasonable, logical explanation like he or she was already completely stopped, about to park when she unlatched her seat belt and pulled it across her chest, accidently knocking the tip of her cigarette off which then landed right next to her bare leg, making her jump, allowing the BURNING BALL OF EMBER to continue rolling unobstructed all the way to her thong-wearing ass and I'll be goddamned if anybody can tell the difference between the brake and the acclerator at that point EVEN IF YOU ARE DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THE BIG DOUBLE GLASS DOORS OF THE KANGAROO MINI MART.

Ok, well...ahem...sorry. Now, where was I? Oh, bizarre, yeah. Well, no need to cover behavior, now is there?
But there are so many categories of "bizarre" and "unusual" and "what-the-f*ck?" beyond the staples of photos and festivals and events. Oh yeah, I'm an all-season kinda get-your-freak-on kind of girl. I love the miscellaneous bizarre and unusual too. Like a good yard sale? Then go check out The Longest Yard Sale in the World .
And I do have to admit that I quite often do not know where the line is, as James Spader's character says in Boston Legal, until I've crossed it, but god I can't help but love the L.A. Coroner's Office. Ok, maybe not so much the place itself, but the fact that they have a frickin GIFT SHOP. This, Skeletons in the Closet is just Wicked Shopping Nirvana. Oh hell yes. I would go so nuts in here. Please don't let me near this place with a credit card.
One of the miscellaneous bizarre I run across are books. I'm a book nerd, so it goes hand in hand that I might run across an unusual literary work or two. Hehe. It's so comforting to know that there's at least one person in the world who has definitely had a worse day than I've ever had. Seriously, if you write a book titled So Your Wife Came Home Speaking in Tongues? So Did Mine! then you've had at least one really shitty day.

I really can't go into the bizarre books on sex category, simply because it's way too easy and there are just way too many. Of course, there are some worth mentioning because they bridge seperate areas. I really enjoyed the helpful instructions and home-based business advice found in The Madam as Entrepreneur. Yeah, I bet that goes over really well at the Garden Club.


And Amazon.com has plenty of copies of "New Guinea Tapeworms and Jewish Grandmothers" if you would like a copy. I believe they also carry a few copies of other popular titles - especially for the do-it-yourself type. For example: The ever popular handyman's guide to "Do It Yourself Coffins For Pets and People". Now, nothing says "I Care" like a homemade coffin, does it?

VH-1 just did a special on famous people and the messed up names they give their kids. Believe me, there were some truly bizarre names. But the top name was ths poor kid, Pilot Inspektor. Don't even remember the parents - the dad was the celebrity, mom might have been a german model maybe. Pilot Inspektor. Makes Dania Elizabeth seem relatively dull.
I think if I decide to have a child, I'm going to name her/him Speak. Actually, Speak will be the first name, Up will be the middle name. Speak Up.
Can you imagine the therapy that kid will eventually need?
"Speak Up! Be quiet!"
"Don't talk back to me, Speak Up!"
"Hi (whomever we're meeting), I'm Dania and this is my daughter, ::smile, look at her, look back at person:: Speak"
Hell, the kid won't eventually need therapy, it'll be in therapy as soon as it can talk. It'll be a bonding experience.
Til the next bizarre time.

Flashback San Francisco

[Quick note...sorry I've taken so long. Been tweaking some new stuff with the links, and pulled the last week's posts til I could get them right. From here on in, anything underlined is a link, so just click and go if it looks interesting.]




These last couple of posts have pulled me back down the proverbial memory lane.
Now, taking into consideration that I work out of my home and the weather outside is a lovely hell-spawn and demon dream vacation get-away average of 103 degrees, I'm not too tempted to leave The Sacred Altar of Air Conditioning that often. So for the past 2 days, since the last post, I've spent a good amount of time going through old photos and journals and reminiscing about a life lived.
So this post is about San Francisco...where years ago I wandered to as a (or so I thought) hip, brazen, uninhibited freshly educated (hahahahaha) collegian. I was ready for the world, you know?
It only took about three days.




sweet-jesus-mary-mother-of-what-the-fuck-have-i-gotten-myself-into?

"Hip" and "Brazen" and "Uninhibited" wrapped themselves around my tail and tucked themselves so tightly between my legs that my ass puckered.
I was living with friends of friends, and they were city natives, born and bred. I got thrown into the deep end - sink or swim. Hey, they were right - no sense having a roomate if she's gonna freak out and run home to the safety of the world of Proper Southern Belle Manners.
But I stayed. And I fell in love. With the City.
My friends of friends became MY friends, and gave me entrance to their world. There is a San Francisco the world sees - that the tourists see - the landmarks...and you forget these quite often when you live among them. It wasn't until I went back to visit that I actually went to some of the touristy places.
But what I miss are the great music stores and little jewels of hidden treasure that are tucked away. God how I loved the beach and windsurfing, the mountains and rockclimbing in the afternoon and campfires at night...the wicked loud parties and the quiet moments too. And of course, there are the Only-In-San-Francisco as well.
So, jump in, put your seat belt on (I'm OCD, remember?). I've got the top down on the car and I'm driving (I'm also very alpha)...memory lane next exit, pedestrians and other vehicles be warned.


So, first of all we've got the Golden Gate Bridge. What's amazing it that when you live here, it's so easy to forget how magnificent it is. There's a toll, but it's only collected from southbound traffic (traffic headed into the city). You can walk or bike across for free, but sorry, no dogs allowed (no pets of any kind...guess you could sneak your pet hamster if you REALLY wanted to, though).

Now, find 49-Mile Drive and follow the blue and white seagull signs all through the city. You'll get a slice of everything San Francisco. Actually, your best bet is to pick up a map at the Visitors Center (at Powell) 'cause some people have been rumored (no names here, ahem) to take the signs as home decorations/ souvenirs.
Now that you've had a sample, spend some time with the hidden treasures, like The Exploratorium. I know it's a science museum, but it's in The Palace of Fine Arts, which is one place you need to go anyway, and it's just about the coolest museum ever.
One of the most beautiful places, and the place I had both the best and worst day of my life, is the Japanese Tea Garden. It's in Golden Gate Park, and that's all I want to say about that.
Now then, what I will say more about is City Lights Bookstore. This is my Happy Place. I would live here if they would let me...it's like a library and an institution and an inspiration...everytime I'm here I feel like taking my shoes off, pulling out a notebook and scribbling mad poetry like a crazy woman. The books are everywhere, but you must go to the basement. That's where the good stuff is.

Actually, there's some pretty damn good stuff a few steps away at Vesuvio ...there was a bartender there named Darren or Darek or Darryl or God, I forget...but he made the meanest, sweetest, ass-kicking-est Long Island Iced Tea. If he's still around, he deserves sainthood.
While we're in the neighborhood...god I loved Chinatown. You could buy ANYTHING in Chinatown. And I do mean anything. It doesn't matter who speaks what. If you can draw in the air and motion and make sounds then you can communicate. You would be surprised how easily some things translate. Hehe...bet you're trying it right now. See? (No, Mom, really, I was talking about collogen injections for my lips...really, seriously...that's all)
Ok, now I'm hungry. And ohmygod are there some great places to eat. Lunch at Taylor's. Anything at John Foley's (the things the Irish can do with a potato) I can't even list all my favorites because there are too many. But since this IS Memory Lane, I have to spend a moment with an old friend...In & Out Burger.
Now, this is just how life should be. Fuck the SuperWalCosco gazillion-kinds-of-everything, 75 checkout aisles but only 4 fucking cashiers. If City Lights Bookstore is my Church, then In & Out Burger is my Salvation. What would you like? You can have 1.A Hamburger 2.A Cheeseburger or 3.A Double Double Burger. Sure you can have fries too (one size), and a shake or a drink, but that's it for the menu. I love this place. And talking about memories, there was this one booth that...yeah...damn...sorry, there are things my mom just really doesn't need to know. Ever.
Rainbow Street Grocery is a different story. I just love how I was so Earth-Green-Water-Clean...for about 2 weeks. I'm sorry, but tofu-burgers do things to your intestines that are just plain unnatural. Hey, I tried, but I'm at the top of the food chain for a reason.
Oh hell, we're already here. And I've let you guys wade in slowly, unlike me, getting tossed into the deep end of the Folsom Street Fair my first week in the city.
Too late. This is it. Spanking, human pets, ass art, full-frontal-everything, hot wax body art and much, much more. But you know what? You meet some of the most straight-up, no bullshit, coolest, honest people here. And yeah, some of the most fucked-up as well.

The Haight-Ashbury Fair is not to be missed. Actually, just swing by the Haight District, even if you're just there for a few days. One of the best times I had was at the fair one year. I had just moved from my old apartment (with roommates) on Jones Street to Filbert Street (all alone now) and was feeling lonely and broke (by the way, Filbert is THE steepest street in San Francisco!). My best friends dropped in, rummaged through my bag, got my ID, handed it to me, wouldn't let me take anything else (barely let me brush my hair) and kidnapped me. They paid for everything over the next 24 hours. The fair was just the beginning. They didn't get me back home til the next day. I knew I had real friends. And life was good.
I loved the city. I lived near Lombard Street. I immediately lost my fascination with Lombard Street after the first day I tried to walk up it. Never again. Coit Tower just by itself and the walkway was /is magnificent. My fascination there never ended. The view from the top of Coit Tower is breathtaking.
One thing I did on my last trip/visit back was go to Fisherman's Wharf and Pier 39 specifically for pictures. If you go, there's some off site parking if you look for it, but your best bet is to just go ahead and park across from Pier 39 - the parking is about $20, but chances are you're there to eat and any of the full service restaurants will validate your ticket for around half the cost (I think about $8.00 off). BUT, unless you're famous and/or famously wealthy, plan to put your name on a wait list for about an hour or more, especially on busy nights.
And oh...the wharf and the docks...and...The Boat. It wasn't my boat, but I got to work on it, got to learn the language. Even got to steer sometimes. Did I mention how much I loved the ocean in general? There's just something about being at sea.
Now, I had reason to call some old friends to check up on some things and have been informed that I MUST add the following: Teatro ZinZanni. The Slogan is "Love, Chaos & Dinner" and it is supposedly one of the wickedest, neatest, things to hit town in the last few years.

And according to the same sources, Ruby Skye is The Place To Be. One of my old friends apparently LIVES in the VIP room. Evidently I need to keep in MUCH better contact with some of my friends since it appears that they have reached the pinnacle of the clubbing social ladder. I'd probably have to literally club the guy at the door just to get in.
I was also berated for not including Mitchell's Ice Cream and Brainwash.
"Oh my god!" Lisa said, shocked. "How could you not include Brainwash?"
"Uh," I replied with astoundingly quick wit. "I dunno."
But she's right. Mitchell's is not to be missed, and Brainwash is just one-of-a-kind. I mean, where else can you go and get your lunch and your laundry done
So, for Lisa and everyone else, there. Sorry I forgot. Jesus, I did my laundry at the neighbor's, remember?
One other thing I really loved was the MASS TRANSIT-NO KIDDING. BART, light rail, the bus schedules that ran almost to the split second. I never owned a car in S.F. Never wanted a car in S.F. People who don't live in San Francisco or the Bay Area look at you funny when you say things like "public transportation" or "bus" or "light rail". That's cool, we'll keep our secret.

And I'll keep the rest of my San Francisco secrets as well as I end this trip down Memory Lane. Funny thing about pictures, especially the ones we put in albums. We always have pictures of our Happy Lives. We take snapshots of Good Moments. Of Times (at least right now) We Want To Remember. Of Love. Of Vacations. Smiling Babies. Joyous Celebrations. maybe an occasional drunken party. Lots of pics of Beaming Brides. Glowing Moms. Proud Fathers.
We're not too good at visually capturing our lives at our worst. heartbroken. emotionally devastated. enraged. insane with jealousy. betrayed. hateful. hurt.
So what do people see when they flip through our photo albums, or peruse our latest photos?
Guess we all have our secrets.

Happy "Be a Dork Day"!!!

Well, that's one way to get your picture taken with Jay Leno. I'm not even going to get started about the pic...we don't have have time and that's not what this is about...we'll revisit some other time.

National BE A DORK DAY. I am so not kidding you. This is an actual holiday, and it's today. Oh yes it is. July 15th.

Dorks everywhere celebrate! Run wild in the street! Cry FREEDOM and spray paint TREK RULES on subway walls like wild men!

Sorry, got carried away there. Yeah...there is something even scarier than "Be a Dork Day" though. There are more of these freaky, bizarre holidays. They happen almost every day, and they're for real. You would be surprised what little it takes to get a holiday made official. I did some research and found one of the best sites on this around. (See link below). Fascinating stuff.

Meanwhile, I'm really looking forward to August 17 next month. That's national "Meaning of 'IS' Day". HeHe.

Bizarre Holidays

Girls Night Out ( aka Who Has Bail?)

It's Bad When The Pictures Get Blurry.

**********Me, Lauren, Nicole********

I've been meaning to put this pic up for about 2 weeks now, but I kept forgetting. I have the attention span of a gnat, but that's a whole editorial in itself.

Lauren & Jay came back into town for a weekend, so it gave me an excuse to wear some new sandals and lipstick and enter the Fifth Circle of Hell, otherwise known as Daiquiri World.

I would try to explain Daiquiri World to the uninitiated amongst you, but I'm certain I would fail. Just try some free association and let your imagination take over: gravel parking lot, barn-shaped, pool tables, drive-through service available (I'm completely serious), "bucket-o'-beer specials", glitter disco ball, and a lovely cage on the dance floor for girls (usually drunk) to dance in.

Now, you're probably asking yourself, "So why with such obvious contempt do you and your friends continue to go there?"

Well, I could go with a highly esoteric explanation of the benefits of social research and the invaluable raw data and marketing information gained from unobtrusive interaction with the societal age group which has statistically spent the most money on the products and services that the companies my friends and I either run or work for...

Or I could just tell you we're wusses like Linus and his blanket and don't wanna give up our old place just yet.

Everybody has someplace like that. Kind of like a "Cheers" for the real world. If you're lucky, sometimes you have a couple of places like that...remind me to tell you about Enochs one day.

Enochs Cafe

CLASSIC ENOCH'S