You might get me confused with Mr. Yahoo. He’s in a cubicle next floor down. I am Mr. Google, but unlike he, I run this entire penthouse suite by myself.
I am everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I am also a verb, and a very good one. Have you ever heard someone ask a question, and heard the response, “Go Yahoo it?” I didn’t think so.
I am Mr. Google, and I am a household word. If your child sneezes, do you instruct him to go “Kleenex” it? Of course not. But if little Tommy or Suzy wants to know whose grandmother once advised being obsequious, purple and clairvoyant, do you say, “Go Dictionary it?” or “Go Encyclopedia it?” No you don’t. You tell them to Google it, because you understand that I know everything and everyone that you don’t, and you avoid the embarrassment of displaying your own intellectual shortcomings to your young gullible prodigies.
Then you whine, “But Mr. Google, I can say, ‘I’m going to Xerox this report,’ right?” Oh how quaint. You might as well say, “I’m going to make a carbon copy of my typing errors.”
Because I am Mr. Google, I have complete control over your offspring. My half-brother, Mr. YouTube, assists me with this easy task. When your little darlings are busy with internet research for their report on eukaryotic organisms due on Tuesday, Mr. YouTube assists them with the latest “OKGO” video as soon as you leave the room.
My sister, Wikipedia, helps out as well. She lies.
Do not trifle with me; I am Mr. Google.
[Image from here.]
Tacky Raccoons 