The Day Has Come where “SMART” is running your life

Hello! Is this Gordon’s Pizza?
No sir, it’s Google Pizza.
I must have dialed a wrong number. Sorry.
No sir, Google bought Gordon’s Pizza last month.
OK. I would like to order a pizza..
Do you want your usual, sir?
My usual? You know me?
According to our caller ID data sheet, the last 12 times you called you ordered an extra-large pizza with three cheeses, sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms and meat balls on a thick crust.
OK! That’s what I want.
May I suggest that this time you order a pizza with ricotta, arugula, sun-dried tomatoes and olives on a whole wheat gluten free thin crust?
What? I detest vegetables.
Your cholesterol is not good, sir.
How the hell do you know?
Well, we cross-referenced your home phone number with your medical records. We have the result of your blood tests for the last 7 years.
Okay, but I do not want your rotten vegetable pizza! I already take medication for my cholesterol.
Excuse me sir, but you have not taken your medication regularly. According to our database, you only purchased a box of 30 cholesterol tablets once, at Drugsale Network, 4 months ago.
I bought more from another drugstore.
That doesn’t show on your credit card statement.
I paid in cash.
But you did not withdraw enough cash according to your bank statement.
I have other sources of cash.
That doesn’t show on your last tax return unless you bought them using an undeclared income source, which is against the law.
WHAT THE HECK?
I’m sorry, sir, we use such information only with the sole intention of helping you.
Enough already! I’m sick to death of Google, Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp and all the others. I’m going to an island without internet, cable TV, where there is no cell phone service and no one to watch me or spy on me.
I understand sir, but you need to renew your passport first. It expired 6 weeks ago.

The Little Toe

The Little Toe
I dunno, my big toe is pretty good at it too. And my soles are great for finding lego pieces in the dark!?

INSURANCE

A man wakes up in the hospital bandaged from head to foot.
The doctor comes in and says, “Ah, I see you’ve regained consciousness.
Now you probably won’t remember, but you were in a huge pile-up on the freeway.
You’re going to be okay, you’ll walk again and everything, however, your penis was severed in the accident and we couldn’t find it.”
The man groans, but the doctor goes on, “You have $9000 in insurance compensation coming and we now have the technology to build a new penis. They work great but they don’t come cheap. It’s roughly $1000 an inch.”
The man perks up.
“So,” the doctor says, “You must decide how many inches you want. I understand that you have been married for over thirty years and this is something you should discuss with your wife. If you had a five incher before and get a nine incher now she might be a bit put out.
If you had a nine incher before and you decide to only invest in a five incher now, she might be disappointed. It’s important that she plays a role in helping you make a decision.”
The man agrees to talk it over with his wife.
The doctor comes back the next day, “So, have you spoken with your wife?”
”Yes I have,” says the man.
”And has she helped you make a decision?”
”Yes, she has,” says the man.
”What is your decision?” asks the doctor.
”We’re getting granite kitchen counter tops.”