I had my own mini-version of the Siri vs Anti-Abortion conflict tonight.
I was googling the lyrics to 'My Love Goes Down' by British retro-rapper-slash-Amy-Winhouse-with-a-Dick Plan B.
As I suspected the lyrics are quite literally about him 'going down' (not sure why I used dick quotes there) on his baby. Baby in the female companion sense. Not infant.
But the geniuses at Google with their complicated algorithms determined that I was searching for Plan B, the Morning After Pill. Who knows? Maybe after My Love Goes Down, the aforementioned gentleman will come back up for air and contemplate other sexual avenues that lead to impregnation?
I appear to have turned into a sex education booklet from a bygone age.
Thanks Google. Furthermore I'm sure the word content of this post in isolation will lead to thousands of spam e-mails.
Fuck it, I might as well lure the spammers into my sights. I need a Nigerian Bank transfer, a gold watch and enough viagra to never lose the erection that my Ukrainian mail-order bride demands.