Googlitrature
 

Ok here's a fun exercise. Google something -- be it you, a friend, a movie star, a shetland pony, or a pet rock. Take the very first entry listed, read through it, and write a short passage on what you see. Set it up like this: Write the searched keyword(s), then link the entry you found, and then your passage.

Okay. Well, I Googled "rat." Here's the first Web entry.

Rattus rattus, rattus rattus,
Carry plague, so don't upset us.
Laughing, chirping, we make great pets
If not, we make lively targets.

I don't know if I'd call it literature! :p

I picked celebration (ha, not what i expected from good ol' google). Here's the link.

Muriel didn't expect to bump into Anges at the corner store. Sure the town was small, but still, she'd hoped she'd avoid such a confrontation.

"Oh hi," sniffed Agnes, upon seeing Muriel.

"Hi," said Muriel meekly.

It seems only two weeks earlier at the Market Street celebration (in Celebration), she'd been "caught" shopping with Fred. Agnes wasn't pleased. But at the time it didn't matter much to Muriel and they went along the old-fashioned boulevard to continue shopping. Muriel had sort of waved, Agnes had grimaced. Later, as she and Fred settled in to one of the town's old-fashioned wooden rockers and people watched, she forgot about her accidental meeting with Agnes.

Now, however, was an entirely different matter. Muriel frowned.

I Googled "forget".

Dara-Anne couldn't wait to finish her chat with Lauren. All Lauren wanted to do was speculate about her chances with Nathan, who had asked her if she wanted an extra Coke that came out of the machine for him as she was walking by. Lauren couldn't stop talking about the Coke and how it wasn't diet and did that mean Nathan thought she wasn't into fitness and health, or did it just mean he didn't see her as petty and superficial? Dara-Anne really didn't care, but she was polite about if for as long as she could stand it. Then she told Lauren she had homework to do, set her status to "Busy" and checked out Forget magazine, where she was supposed to have a poem published that week. And there it was, though she would not have chosen those colours or that photo backdrop, there it was. Suddenly she could hardly contain herself, and paged Lauren back.

I googled 'bed time'

Once upon a time there was a very little businesschild called Peter. Peter liked to do little chores for his mother around the house, and if he did the very best job he could possibly do his mother would give Peter a bright shiny penny and kiss on the cheek. Peter put each bright shiny penny in a stocking he kept under his pillow. Eventually Peter got so many shiny pennies he had enough startup capital for his web venture. Soon Peter spent all day and all night working on his website. He didn't like to do chores for his mother anymore. Soon Peter's website was ready and he decided to call it motherslittlehelper.com. Peter figured he would soon capture up to 30% of the national chore market. The actual chores would be done by Peter's little brothers and sisters for only half a penny. But Peter soon found that no-one would visit his website, as all the other mothers liked to get their own children to do the chores. Peter was very sad and eventually all that was left of motherslittlehelper.com was a 404 message. Peter's mother noticed how sad Peter was and decided to cheer him up. 'Oh look Peter, my kitchen floor could really use a good sweeping. I wonder who could help me clean my floor?" his mother cried. Peter was already sweeping around her feet. That night Peter slept so happily and dreamt the happiest dreams a boy ever could. And in the stocking under his pillow was - a bright shiny penny.

cumbersome

The boy toiled barefoot along a dusty road dragging a loaded red wagon. He should have listened and put some shoes on before he left, and now he had to deal with rocks.
Promised a popsicle when he got back, he had been forced by his mother to go to the post office to mail a huge box of record albums bound for Australia. He had never heard of Frank Sinatra and never wanted to hear of him again. In fact, he hated Frank Sinatra now, and hated his mother's pack-rat tendencies. At least he wouldn't have to ever listen to him now. The album covers looked corny, and Frank had weird, oily hair. The song titles sounded corny too. That's why the lady's a tramp, he thought in irritation. She hangs out with a guy who doesn't wash his hair.

The records had been sitting for years in their cluttered dining room, loosely packed in a heavy wooden shipping crate that his mother wouldn't get rid of either. The crate was all beat up, with old nails sticking out of it. It also had something about "artillery" in tiny letters stencilled on a yellowed, torn label on the side of it. "1943." The family dog had regularly lifted his leg against it scores of times, and the boy could smell the whole thing reeking through all the cardboard and packing tape, even from the length of the wagon handle. He wondered if the post office would even take it, it was so bad.
He decided to think about lime popsicles, of sunburns and cold lawn sprinklers, and the very real possiblity of leaving the box in a ditch just off the side of the road.

I googled saline.

A kitty or a puppy! A kitty! A puppy! Jennifer had been a very good girl, all year, even though Dawson Revere was always trying to make her cry by play-tackling her, and she'd had to exercise all her forbearance to just tell the playground supervisor and not let loose with her wicked tongue. And she had heard her parents talking about responsibility and pets quite a bit, which meant they were talking about her "pet obsession" as they called it, and that meant that they might have decided to get her a pet themselves. But if not, there was always Santa, who knew if you'd been bad or good. And she'd been good! So good that it brought tears to prickle her eyes even as she put on her red fleece robe.

A kitty or a puppy! And she opened her bedroom door.

I meant to google 'bedroom door' but I googled bedrooom door instead.

RESCUED CAT IS NO BASKET CASE

Wimauma, Florida, 9th August 2006

A fiery feline named Lois proved herself no scaredy cat today when she amazed both firefighters and habitual gawkers today by jumping from a window ledge directly into a basket high atop a crane from which firemen were fighting a blaze that had engulfed her owner's stately, but untidy Wimauma home. A neighbour, Buick Gibsonton, said the cat's jump was all the more miraculous as the house had not been painted for over seven years. Captain Claude Westerbrook of the Wimauma fire brigade said he hadn't got along well with the cat initially, but conceded that he supposed the event was newsworthy.

http://www.starlight.org/site/c.fuLQ....BDF4/Home.htm
I typed in "Starlight". I had gotten this page.

Making a World of Difference
for Seriously Ill Children
and Their Families

This organization helps out ill childrena and their families by providing special experiences and good time for the children to remember. (This is adorable! I love when People help out one another. Especialy Kids.)
Here, they also can learn about their illness and how to help themselves for life. These kids get to have a normal experience of a young child and their families can be with them every step of the way.

(Hurray for the Children! So cute!)

I googled confusion.

She knew she wasn't drunk, but Mavis could have sworn her mind was playing tricks on her. Surely she'd left her keys on the front table as she always had. She'd noticed she'd been doing things like that a lot more recently ... picking up the phone to call Agnes only to get Joan, putting a pie in the oven only to run to the kitchen to witness a billow of smoke enveloping her aging stove. That had been some trouble to get clean later, let me tell you. But today was different, it felt different. Like someone had been in her house and rearranged the furniture when she wasn't looking. She was tripping over her thoughts and earlier, she'd tripped over the ottoman in the living room. Maybe she got a concussion from that fall and now her brain was what Fred called "confuddled."

She'd have to see a doctor, and soon.

Hopefully she'd remember to do that.