I’m a Chubby Ninja

After the somewhat downer tone of yesterday’s post, I’ll bring you something delightful.

There’s this wonderful website, Sleep Talkin’ Man, which is run by a woman whose husband talks in his sleep. Eventually, she got the idea to record his quotes (using a voice activated audio recorder) and post them daily on the web. Something that began as a blog for family and friends has now turned into a blog that delights hundreds.

One of yesterday’s quotes made me laugh out loud in glee. You can hear it Here. For those of you who can’t listen to the audio, here’s the transcription:

I’m just a chubby ninja. Able to move between skinny people. Tiptoeing elephant. No one can see me. And then I attack! With ice cream and jelly, with chocolate sprinkles on top. Mmmmm.

The idea of being a chubby ninja is so delightful to me, that I am going to make it my mission to use it in my everyday life. Bump into someone: “I’m a chubby ninja! Hiyah!” Clean my plate at dinner: “The chubby ninja strikes again!” Well, those are terrible examples. But there’s something appealing about being stealthy, graceful, and mysterious like a ninja. I think someone should write a series about the chubby ninja fighting crime. S(he) stops hate in its tracks and turns it all to double rainbows and ice cream sundaes with sprinkles.

Needless to say, this is one of the small things that brings me joy everyday. Thanks, Sleep Talkin’ Man!


Like, Seriously?

I have no words.

I have no words.

Seriously. How are these two things even fucking COMPARABLE??

I hate the world. I really, really do.

Note to self: stop taking quizzes online.

The Internet Knows I’m Fat

You know what I hate? The fact that the world wide web knows that I’m fat. I mean, it doesn’t bother me when I’m the one who tells it that, but when I feel like the internet is keeping tabs on me, it’s really annoying. For instance, just now when I was looking around on the intrawebs I went to two sites one right after the other, my email at hotmail, and dictionary.com. On my hotmail, there was a nice little ad for Lane Bryant. I thought, hey, great. Nice to see ya, Lane Bryant.

Five seconds later I click over to dictonary.com, and there is this:

Dictionary.com Knows I\'m Fat

Ummm….It scares me that Dictionary.com knows I’m a fattie. it’s not like I regularly search for fat words. I mean, on my email, I at least get fat-related emails (that’s where all comments, etc. from here get emailed), so maybe I’d expect it, but still, ewwwww.

My friend E. and I had rejoiced at the beginning of our academic quarter when we saw all the Lane Bryant ads all over the place online. We had just had our “reboobolution” as I call it, where we had gotten new bras that lifted our moral as well as the ladies. We were feeling good, and loving LB. E. and I had jumped up and down when we saw the ads hit facebook. Then, a few weeks ago, E. turned to me and said that our mutual friend G. hadn’t seen any Lane Bryant ads when she went on facebook. She did get the “Ewww…Gross” one that Jamie posted about a while ago . But she never got our Lane Bryant ads. And I had never seen the “Ewww…Gross” ad, either, until Jamie posted about it. We realized, pretty quickly, that the internet knows we’re fat. And it’s deeply disturbing.

I’ve done a little research into targeted ad campaigns on the internet, and have found some interesting stuff on CNET about it (see this article, for instance). But it freaks me out still. And it sort of make me mad. I mean, I guess it’s nice to see a friendly fattie on a Lane Bryant ad instead of some dieting scheme BS, but how deep into my private life should the internet get?

Next thing I know, it’ll be talking my order for food and having it delivered before I even pick up the phone to call. The internet is getting too smart. And scary. Ay dios mio. No mas.