Tonight’s mission: only 78 animal crackers away from obtaining today’s RDA of calcium!
Health food kicks are a bitch…but they’re worth every bite.
Outside the Baby Bubble
It Pays to Be Stalked
We understand when participating in social media that we face the possibility of being stalked. Personally, I don’t find myself interesting enough to warrant a Facebook stalker, with the exception of one particular ogler of the creepiest kind: Facebook itself.
It monitors my every move, and you, too, are vulnerable. Casually browse a friend’s page to look at her wedding pictures, and immediately Facebook will suggest you to add her as a close friend. Look up an ex-boyfriend from college just to see where he ended up in life after breaking up with you for pitching the idea that he take on a minor in addition to his acting major just in case the economy collapsed twenty years later but I guess he got the last laugh since he was cheating on you the whole time with Maria in “West Side Story” while you sat in the audience cheering them on…where was I? Oh, yes. Conduct a simple search for an ex who wronged you, and suddenly that ex appears in your “people you may know” column.
But perhaps the creepiest is when you discover Facebook is monitoring you even when you’re logged off. Like last week, when I placed an order with 1800PetMeds, where I spent a grand total of $483.29 on six months’ supply of a generic brand of flea, tick and heartworm protection for my two cats and two dogs. (Which I’m still in tears about, btw, and if anyone can suggest something that that will prolong my inevitable journey to bankruptcy, I would be indebted to you as well.) The next time I logged onto Facebook, there they were—1800PetMeds, in my margin of featured sponsors, right next to the ad in my newsfeed about hair dye for women over forty.
Yes, Facebook might as well be that creepy old guy with a telescope zooming in on the silhouette of his unknowing neighbor getting dressed in front of a set of translucent shades.
Something caught my eye in that link to 1800PetMeds—it promised that if I clicked on it, I could expect 10% off my purchase. I didn’t get this discount when I placed my order the day before. So naturally, I called.
“I ordered it through a link on Facebook,” I shamelessly lied to the representative. “But for some reason, I didn’t get my 10% discount.”
“No problem!” she chirped. “I’ll take that off your purchase right now. Is there anything else I can do for you today?”
Your stalker may bring you nothing but paranoia, a certified copy of a restraining order and an incurable dose of the heebie-jeebies. Mine just bought me dinner for $48.33.
This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
This information is more useful than sunscreen.
As summer has officially arrived, I’d like to shed some light on a matter that’s botched our car radio karaoke efforts since 1984. The correct sequence is as follows: (1) You got your hair combed back and your sunglasses on; (2) I see you walking real slow smiling at everyone; (3) You got the top pulled down and the radio on; (4) You got your hair slicked back and those Wayfarers on. All four parts are to be followed by the term of endearment, “Baby.”
Now, bring it. And if you can state the significance of a deadhead sticker on a Cadillac, you just won a million dollars.
For that amount of money, you just might be able to catch the Eagles in concert. Beer and concert T-shirt not included.
The Future’s Looking Bright
Last weekend Forbes.com released an article projecting what the human face might look like 100,000 years from now. Factors taken into consideration were zygotic gnome engineering, change in climate, evolution, larger brains, possible colonization away from planet earth, stronger cosmic rays and increased UV radiation. A drawing revealed freakishly large eyes with a sideways blink, denser hair, higher foreheads and increased skin pigmentation (see left).
It’s fun to think about what man might look like in the year 102,013. It inspired me to sit down, flex my sci-fi imagination and sketch my own projection (see right).
Perhaps my forecast for the human race is a bit less optimistic.