September 10, 2018
Issue 10 2018
Lit Fam or Shit Scam?

Make a Wish

We walk among giants. Us with our closed minds and puny thoughts, moping about our daily routine, cutting vegetables unevenly and pouring soft drink from the bottle, when the REAL minds are out there, taking dreams and wishes, and turning them into mass-produced plastic gimmicks for our consumerist delight.

Wish is one such mobile shopping app that boasts some of the most incredibly useless junk I’ve ever had the privilege of wasting money on. Wish differs from other shopping apps for two main reasons. The first reason is that its tagline claims you can get many items for free as long as you pay shipping. The second reason is that they must have gained their marketing skills from the Tim And Eric School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, because some of the stuff that it sends me adverts for are completely baffling. I’ve had lingerie, morally degenerate shirts, and once a human tongue. Other apps stalk your browsing history to decide what to bombard you with but Wish just seems to embody the first-year arts student in the way they just fling shit at the wall and hope it passes.

While I hope the tongue is just a fake prop, and not a freebie from a literal arms dealer, I couldn’t help but explore this strangely enticing app.

Setting some cash aside, I decided I would buy the first 10 items that I was advertised, so long as they were under $5. No exceptions.

The list of that I’m now the proud owner of is as follows:

1 pair of wireless earphones

1 universal wireless phone charger

1 ‘REAL LEATHER’ wallet

1 deck of gold playing cards

1 pair of round steampunk sunglasses

1 set of polyhedral dice

1 fishnet bodysuit

1 set of silver grills

1 pair of evenly slicing tongs

1 mini upside-down soft drink fountain

1 very interesting watch

What I soon discovered was that the ‘free’ items had rather high shipping prices, which meant altogether I was paying about $5 per item. I held on to hope that these items would change my life for the better, and then promptly forgot about them for the next three to four weeks.

The first to arrive were the earphones. Or rather, earphone singular. They sent me only one, and in black instead of pink. Trying it out I soon discovered you needed to be in about a meter radius from your phone in order for them to work, and the sound quality was worse than a Despacito cover by Helen Keller.

Next up was the universal phone charger and the ‘REAL LEATHER’ wallet. I was skeptical about the phone charger, since I knew it was predominantly an iPhone based schtick, but when I placed my Samsung on this simple circular pad, lo and behold, the pad started flashing just like the instructions said it would, and my phone lit up. Of course, it was just my boss texting to see if I could cover a shift, but I had enjoyed the moment in which I thought it had worked. I tossed the useless thing aside and examined the ‘REAL LEATHER’ wallet. As you might expect, ‘REAL LEATHER’ really meant ‘PAINFULLY ARTIFICIAL AND REALLY NOT GOOD AT ALL’.

I had a nice evening the following Friday when five more packages showed up in my letterbox, consisting of the gold cards, sunglasses, dice, fishnet bodysuit, and silver grills.

The gold playing cards were actually decent. Sturdy, shiny, and reeking of bougie antics, they’d be the perfect addition to a slosh at home with mates.

The sunglasses were cheap and awful, the dice were average at best, and the fishnet bodysuit… Well at least I have something to wear to screenings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

The grills were interesting. After molding the plastic in hot water and applying the probably toxic substance to my teeth, I was shocked to discover that while my charisma had been cut in half, my Soundcloud rapping skill had tripled. I’ve now grown some wicked face tats, legally changed my name to Big Slam Kash Soul Punch and created fire beats toastier than any prone bone Post Malone tones.

The last to arrive were the evenly slicing tongs, mini upside-down soft drink fountain, and a very interesting watch.

The evenly slicing tongs are hard to describe. Picture tongs, but with clasps at the end, which are divided by vertical gaps. The idea is you firmly grasp something trivial, like a tomato, and cut down through the gaps, ensuring pristine, even slices of your chosen vegetable/sacrifice. I too, howl savagely when my tomatoes are cut slightly unevenly, but now we finally have an invention that will save us from utter anarchy.

The mini upside down soft drink fountain requires you to remove the cap of your soft drink, deftly place the fountain on top, screwing it in tight, then flip the whole thing upside down, where you can then push the tap handle, only to discover that due to the basic laws of physics, liquid will not pour out, therefore forcing you to squeeze the bottle numerous times until it fills your vessel. Apparently, this is easier than just pouring it.

And finally, the very interesting watch. A watch like no other, with numbers scrawled haphazardly over its face, failing to carry any semblance of order. But right in the middle, a neat and tidy quote to live by:

“Who cares, I’m late anyway.”

Wish also has a massive hard on for encouraging playful shopping. What this entails is the constant bombardment of little games, such as ‘spin the wheel for coupons,’ ‘buy with a buddy for a double discount,’ and ‘add all this crap to your cart in the next ten minutes and get seriously good discounts like we don’t even care we have children in factories making us this shit for free’.

Wish, you can try to seduce me all you want with your happy jumping golden credit card swipe button, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, tat is tat, and that is that.

I give Wish a rating of 2/5 penguins that died from plastic pollution, therefore it’s a Shit Scam.

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