Last night and all day today while cleaning my house, I did a Biggest Loser marathon on Netflix. I was hoping watching would inspire me (which it did) and encourage me (again it did) and it also made me think. The contestants are using a device strapped to their arm called the Bodybugg which tracks their calories, movement, and such stuff. Huh. So, you are telling me that you can strap a device to your arm and it will track your movement and steps and sweat to workout ratio and figure out your calories burned? Huh. At first, I am intrigued and then a thought crosses my mind….CREEPY. It’s like something out of George Orwell’s 1984 where Big Brother is watching you. Really…do you need to test my sweat to workout ratio? And what exactly are you measuring with my sweat? Pretty sure this device was created by people like SOTL man who wants my fat girl skin so they want samples of my sweat to see if my fat girl skin is good enough for their fat girl skin suit. Why else would you measure my sweat to workout ratio? Are you trying to see if my fat skin has loosened enough so now is the time to bring your van up to my driveway and pretend to have a broken arm and load a couch into it? I am so on to you….I am not getting anywhere near your creepy van or your creepy Bodybugg device if it requires my sweat. And also…gross. I already have issues with looking like I was dipped in a vat of grease when I work out because I sweat so badly (partly because I am fat and partly because I am Irish I think) so measuring my greasy fat girl sweat pretty much grosses me out. I wouldn’t want to be the guy in the lab having to run my sweat through tests or whatever devices they have come up with in Big Brother’s lab to see if I am doing exactly what the government wants me to do. A conspiracy I tell you! I shall keep my vat o grease fat girl sweat contained to myself thank you.
And speaking of brothers (not Big Brother)….my little Bubby is a pretty funny guy. I have this dry erase board on my refrigerator that when we shared common living quarters we would leave notes to each other on it. Now, it mainly contains my grocery or Target list. My Bubby and BFF love to add to said list things so that in amongst the toilet paper (that my clone forgot to buy at CVS) and milk I have written, I often find items like “a vial of children’s tears”, “a tiny portable soul”, or “the hair from a wild unicorn”. They have even written each other notes on the list. For example one read: BFF: a muppet or a man. Bubby: A muppet of course. BFF: Muppets do rock! It is very amusing. Sometimes in coming home from work, I find notes from my Bubby that read like this : “Came over. Washed the dog. Ate your food. Love you. Bye” Note….he no longer lives here so the fact that he came over, washed his dog AND ate my food is a little curious. Ah….little brothers. So, to find a note on my board when I came home the other morning was not unusual. However this one was particularly funny and I must share.
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. I did wonder about the use of my sweat and my vacuum cleaner but I did not die. I am fat girl hoping I am not a murder accomplice running. The experiment continues….