What does Google know anyway?

Found while Googling myself at work (insert tasteless pun here):

Name Origin and Meaning:

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Forename:
Origin: French (Root: Andrew)
Meaning: Manly, Courageous



Your personal power animal is the Sumatran Orangutan

Your 'Numerology' number is 1. If it wasn't bulls**t, it would mean that you are ambitious, independent, and self-sufficient. Although you are generally happy, loving, dynamic and charismatic, you can sometimes be egotistical, selfish and melodramatic.

In ASCII binary it is... 01000001 01101110 01100100 01110010 01100101 00100000 01000010 01101111 01110010 01100100 01100101 01101100 01101111 01101110

Baby, I didn't mean to hit you...

There's an undeniable electric feeling rolling like waves over the streets of (Seattle's) Capitol Hill. The streets are thronged with serfs and lords, bailiffs and jesters. There's an intoxicating relief, a knowing hopefulness that winks at you from around the streetcorner and honks at you from the multitude of sensible automobiles that slaps a silly grin across your face. The wars aren't by any means over, but ticker-tape falls from windows on to the crowds below like the old celluloids at the end of #2. Fireworks fill the sky and everyone you meet is another heart that was broken until tonight. The din of happy shouting is just icing.




It feels like the Bastille's been stormed. It enraptures like the return of Helen to Greece. It massages the idea of an America with a heart back to life. I've never known a night like this.



I'm 31 now, but I had never been old enough for a celebratory drink in the neighborhood pub after the good guys won. Not until today. It's an intoxication that overtakes the chems in my bloodstream and shoots me up into a high like unto no other.


It must be very easy to be cynical about the process or the choices or the system. I mean hell, I just did it hours ago myself, so any dipshit must be able to. And I'm sure that this feeling of enlightened goodwill, of nationalistic unity will fade. Before I know what's happening I'll be crashing out and it'll all be another set of DT's. That's the circle and now that it's spun my way the day when it spins back is 24 hours closer.


It's been written that politics is like a drug, that it gets in the blood and rides you through high times and into low dregs alike. Well we're buzzing now, so don't harsh me, man. We'll worry about the hangover once the honeymoon's over.

Vote Autocratic Party Ticket

Write in "Me" for every office. Who else is fit to lead you?

Seriously though, go out and Vote! Because if you cast the right vote wars will magically end, the economy built on exploitation will suddenly pay fair wages, actors will fall in love with their stalkers, cars will suddenly run on seawater, people in the ozarks will get teeth, racism will cease to be a problem, all police brutality will end.

BUT MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL: The person YOU support is certainly not a corrupt say-anything carreer politician who is owned by big industries, lobbies and/or unions who would rather penetrate you sexually with a switchblade then give up an inch of their power or a cent of their money for the greater good. No way, because whatever political party you're supporting isn't a cadre of corrupt murderers, sniviling syncophants and spinless leeches. Nuh uh!

So yeah, "go vote", Hero. You're saving the 'effing world, appairently.

I'm reminded of a quote from good 'ol saint George, may he rest in peace:

"I'm happy to tell you that on election day I stayed home. And I did essentially what you did. The only difference is when I got finished masturbating I had something to show for it."

So go vote. And by "vote" I mean "away from me you self-deluding pile of living feces."

Oh, and by all means feel free to leave a bunch of self-important comments about how I'm not helping to save the world but you are because a tree died for you to scibble "puppet # 1 please" on it's flattened bleached corpse. Don't go out and feed a homeless person. Don't step in and put an end to the domestic violence raging across the apartment hallway. Don't tutor an autistic child. Vote. And then find someone who doesn't think you're Jesus and act all high-and-mighty to them.


I hate your species.