Picture the scene, it’s early morning, say somewhere around 7am. I’ve had a rough night, my eyes look like what I would fondly refer to as pissholes in the snow and I can barely remember my own name let alone take in anything more complicated than ‘put on coffee machine’.
So that’s just what I do, I get myself a coffee and as that sweet burst of liquid gold fills me up I flick open the lid of the laptop to check out communications from the outside world.
The first thing I do is head to my email and in amongst all the adverts for Viagra or single Nigerian princes desperate to transfer me massive amounts of money in retun for a safe haven in my bank account I see todays Groupon deal.
Fanny Wang headphones.
My poor coffee barely had time to settle before it is being coughed out on to my hands again. Fanny Wang, seriously?
I know in the states the fanny is simply a harmless word for your back end but I’m from the UK people, the UK!
So for a mere $79.99 I could take Wangs Fanny and wrap it around my head where it would guarantee me warmth, safety and the best beats I’ve ever had.
Of course if I’m not that way inclined I could always use the Wang instead. Who doesn’t want a nice Wang in their ears? Apparently the sound quality of a good Wang is excellent.
It almost seemed to good to be true.
I pondered on this all morning, why on earth would you use the name Fanny Wang? How could you not see that every English speaking person under the sun would snicker at your unfortunate choice? Did you not have access to Urban Dictionary? Was this a deliberate marketing ploy based on the immaturity of your average consumer (I’m putting myself in that bracket by the way). What would be next in the litany of poorly thought out product names that involve body parts. By the way, if you really want to know just how good a Wang sounds and don’t have Groupon there is always good old Amazon.
Surely, I thought, as I wondered the aisles of our local Bulk Barn, surely nobody else would make such a mistake.
But what should my innocent young eyes spy as I rounded the very next corner. Yep. Cock soup.
A soup I can only assume is meaty but with a strong salty after taste.
So I thought to myself nothing else, surely nothing else. I best check the internet to be sure. As ever the internet did not let me down.
The internet never lets me down.
Hows your hair? Is it maybe lacking lustre? Flat and limp, no shine. Then you need the healing power of fruit. Specifically the Kumquat fruit. These little things are packed full of natural ingredients to make your hair glow as though you have been plugged in to the mains. It didn’t take somebody long to realise this either, and being the business genius that they were they took those kumquats, they harnessed them in to a shampoo for your convenience and they gave us, the world, K.U.M shampoo.
I’m assured this is/was a real product and if you want to check out their radio adverts I know you, like me, will be super excited to have K.U.M in your hair.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUO21BHv9Eo Please watch this. I promise you it’s worth it. Not in the L’oreal sense of course, this is K.U.M after all.
Of course sometimes all anybody needs is a drink. A cool refreshing drink. A drink that sounds like a highly infectious and deadly disease. You, dear reader, need Sars. Yes you do. You know you do. Do you know how I know this? Because after the outbreak of this disease sales of this drink skyrocketed. People grabbed cans to show their friends, look I have Sars! Because what’s funnier than making
jokes out of infectious illnesses people, come on!? I know, bloody hilarious right!! Oh man, those cheeky pranksters. Comedy genius. I can only imagine the IQ that lead to that connection.
When questioned if he would change the name of his products, the C.E.O of Sars just laughed manically and rolled around in his piles of money bought about by people being bloody idiots.
Over here in Canada we have a wonder cream. It’s used for muscle pains, arthritis, cold sores. Oh so many things. It goes by the rather innocuous name of Rub A353. Sounds ok, but please, just for a second. Spare a look at the packing. My poor 14yr old can barely contain his excitement every time walk past the shelf in the pharmacy. I suspect it’s also terribly good for haemorrhoids.
By the way, that very fancy cell phone you own. What was it now? Oh yes, the Nokia Lumia. It’s a beauty. So sleek and smooth. It loves it when you press it’s buttons it’s so responsive and you love it.
I don’t want to tell you this, I don’t want to break your heart. But your Lumia? The one you show off about and tell everybody, oh this? This
is my Lumia? She’s not what she seems.
You see Lumia is actually a Spanish slang word for prostitute. Which, when you think about it is about the most appropriate thing you could call a cell phone. Since every time you use it, you are paying a phone company to fuck you over.
I’m so sorry to end on that note, as you mournfully look at your Lumia and know all along she’s been using you, just climb in to your 4×4 and drive sadly in to the distance. Your gorgeous, enormous, bigger than yours, could run over a mountain bear and would never notice Mitsubishi Pajero and drive off,and while you’re driving try not to think about the fact that Pajero is also Spansh. For wanker.