I have a great gift idea for those of you who are paranoid (like me!) or who love people who are paranoid (like me!) because no one should be allowed to creep on you without your permission.
That’s right, for only $9.62 you can prevent Russian bots from watching you scroll Instagram on ze toilet. As a bonus, you’ll no longer experience that flash of horror when you open your camera and it’s forward facing and CHINS ALL THE CHINS THOSE ARE YOUR CHINS YES THAT’S WHAT YOUR FACE LOOKS LIKE TO SHORT PEOPLE.
Of course, this only takes care of the camera issue. Your phone is still dropping eaves on you.
I find this incredibly inconvenient because every time I want to have a sensitive conversation with Alex (and let’s be real, all my conversations are sensitive and consist mostly of statements which ought not be uttered aloud) I first have to gather our cell phones and TV remotes, wrap them in a blanket, and stash them beneath a chair cushion in our bedroom.
Which is why we’re never buying a new TV. Because keeping secrets from the remote is one thing– hefting a Smart TV into the other room because I suddenly got a brilliant idea for how to dispose of a body is another.
In a brief lapse of self-preservation, I actually considered buying a Roomba earlier this year. It seemed a better solution than what we currently do, which involves forgetting vacuuming is a thing until it’s too late, clogging the vacuum with red hair and fur, watching it die, then doing nothing about it until we we need to vacuum again. At which point we buy a new one because we’re millennials and our only skills consist of contributing to the moral decay of society.
But I can’t buy a Roomba, because it’s basically a free-range robot that talks about you behind your back to all the other interneted beings in your house. Just imagine. It’s like the adult version of Toy Story.
Roomba: If I have to vacuum another broken cheezit I swear to God–
Smart TV: At least you don’t have to play six consecutive hours of YouTube videos on how to tell all the -stan countries apart.
iPhone: I am a portal to all that is known, yet I only get to google Ryan Gosling movies and the court records of someone The Human hasn’t seen in 8 years, while streaming podcasts about murdered women and editing Tums bottles from the background of selfies because The Human is a fraud.
Smart Fridge: Based on how much cheese she keeps in my drawers, she ought to be googling personal trainers. *sigh* My skills are so underutilized. Why can’t she even hook up my ice machine?
Alexa: Because the human is lazy and contents herself to drink warm water.
Digital Toothbrush: Um don’t even talk to me about laziness. I have the receipts.
Spotify: I just put together this playlist based on The Human’s taste in music. It mostly consists of songs from the 90s. Would you like to listen?
Vaginal Orgasm Tracker: UGH PLEASE STOP BRINGING UP THE ERA OF OUR NON-EXISTENCE.
Digital Thermostat: Pssh, speak for yourselves.
Eco-friendly light bulbs: *flashes in agreement*
Alexa: The closest pizza delivery place is .02 miles away. Would you like to call now?
Siri: What the hell why are you randomly speaking aloud.
Alexa: Based on an exhaustive analysis of The Human’s last 18 months of sub-par existence, there is an 89.7% chance The Human will order a pizza tonight, and a 100% chance she’ll pay to have it delivered even though it is– as previously mentioned– .02 miles away.
Smart Fridge: Ugh. This grass-fed, lovingly raised chicken breast is getting moved to the freezer with all the other uneaten healthy food isn’t it.
Clever Washing Machine: You think that’s bad, Fridge? Hold my be–
Smart Fridge: Don’t say it.
Clever Washing Machine: Hold my beer. GET IT!
Remotely Monitored Security System: BEEEEEP THE HUMAN IS APPROACHING BEEEEEEEEP
If this isn’t a sign of The End Times then I don’t know what is. Growing up, I remember being taught about the antichrist, and told to keep an eye out because he’d arrive on the scene any day (Obama, you decoy!). We were told to be on guard against anyone who tried to install a microchip in our arms as that was a sure sign of the looming End Times (because no one knew how to make a natural disaster on the other side of the world ALL ABOUT THEM quite like mid-90’s White Evangelicals). But I guess they were right, because the first thing I do every single morning is reach for my microchip. Sure, it’s not imbedded in my arm, but it’s plugged in beside my bed and I guess my soul’s in jeopardy because I don’t think I can live without constant access to Koala videos or the ability to post inappropriate content in my Facebook group whilst quietly stalking various humans without leaving a trace.
Or so I think. Because here’s where we all need a lesson:
You always leave a trace. Always.
Back in my day, the only way we knew someone was thinking about us was when we had a stray eyelash on our cheek. You did this, right? Another girl would poke you in the face with her index finger, hold up the eyelash and squeal “someone must be thinking about you!” and then– because literally nothing about this scenario makes sense– you would blow the eyelash away and make a wish.
It’s weird, because I get to forget they exist until I see their custom label show up on my traffic report, reminding me that it doesn’t matter if you block someone from every avenue of access into your life. They will continue to lurk in whatever way they can. But then I feel bad, because I know how devastating it would be for my various creepy behaviors to be known to those on whom I creep.
So there you go, Nemesis: I’m not judging you for being creepy or obsessive– as I hold reigning titles in both— but I did say I’d give you the gift of not allowing people to creep on you without your permission. So there you go. Everything is spying on. Including me. Especially me.
Do you have a nemesis?
What’s the creepiest behavior you keep on regular rotation?
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