Last month, I went to a Christmas party where they were doing this secret Santa gift exchange thing; everyone brings a small wrapped gift and puts it under the tree, then people pick gifts in random order. When my number came up, I attempted to use my psychic materialism powers to sniff out the very best gift. I opened the bag that the spirits guided me to, and inside were…two pieces of cloth.
I didn’t really know anyone at this party, but suddenly a room full of strangers were screaming the word “SHAMWOW!” at me. I thought maybe I’d stumbled into a cult who developed their own freakish language, in which “shamwow” means “you got a shitty gift.” Then someone poured their drink all over the floor. “Shamwow,” he grunted, pointing at the spilled booze like an astronaut trying to communicate with a mildly drunk alien race. I spread one of the cloths over the spill, wiped it away, and like magic, the floor was clean.
In case you don’t already know, this is ShamWow:
Remember kids: boring tuna, boring life.