As everyone knows, Google starts offering suggestions of what you might be looking for as soon as you type the first letter into the search bar. Type in “a” and it will (at least in Canada and at this particular time) offer “air canada,” “amazon.ca,” “autotrader.ca,” and “addicting games,” among others.
So I’ve taken the first word offered for each letter of the alphabet and put them together to create a short primer for The Google Alphabet. It is a service which, while not particularly needed, will at least be of no practical value.
The Google Alphabet
A is for “Air Canada,” which overbooked your seat,
B is for “Best Buy” where computers come cheap,
C is for “Canadian Tire,” with gadgets galore,
D is for “Dictionary,” which most people ignore.
E is for “eBay,” if you want a good auction,
F is for “Facebook,” if privacy’s no option,
G is for “Gmail,” for those who are smart,
H is for “Hotmail,” for others, like Bart.
I is for “Ikea,” which has Allen keys,
J is for “Job Bank,” though there’s a hiring freeze,
K is for “Kijiji,” which are classifieds, no jest,
L is for “London Drugs,” found mostly out west.
M is for “Mapquest,” to find the capital of Jordan,
N is for “NHL,” for “Noordelijke Hogeschool Leeuwarden,”
O is for “Olympics,” which brought tourists in droves,
P is for “Plenty of fish,” now all you need are the loaves.
Q is for “Quotes,” which make you sound clever,
R is for “RBC online banking,” for banking whenever,
S is for “Scotiabank,” whose adverts are smug,
T is for “TD Canada Trust,” which looks good on a mug.
U is for “Urban Dictionary,” with words like “unsult,”
V is for “Vancouver 2010,” which gained the status of cult,
W is for “Weather Network,” to see if there’s snow,
X is for “XS Cargo,” there’s one down the road,
Y is for “Youtube,” for a real education,
Z is for “Zellers,” which has formed its own nation.
That’s it for our alphabet, so now we’ll do Asia,
Which has way more letters, and 甲 is for 盔甲.