Products I Get Served On Instagram

Instagram is stupid.

My suggested feed is inexplicably loaded with the comedian Sinbad, baked goods and girls in bikinis doing synchronized dance routines; every third post in my main feed is an ad for something I do not want or need. I thought our phones were meant to be listening to us and serving us stuff we want. Big Brother is an idiot. And a jerk-off. That said, I occasionally get ads for the most awesome things I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’m going to share them with you now because it’s in my contract to do so.

Flappy Fish: Well done, algorithm—this makes sense. I’m actually going to send off for one of these. It’s a Flappy Fish for my cat, Huey. I guess it has like a little mechanism inside that makes it flappy. Pretty psyched to get this in the mail. Huey is gonna freak out. He gets stoked on things like bubble-wrap and rubber-bands, so this Flappy Fish is going to blow his little walnut-sized mind. As far as I can tell, the Flappy Fish only flaps when your cat gives it a nudge, otherwise, it’s just a dead fish. Does it take batteries, or can you charge it in the same cord you charge your dildo with? Sorry, I don’t work for Flappy Fish.

Masterclass: Hey dummies, I already bought this two months ago. Why are you trying to sell it to me again? I really did buy it. It cost an arm and leg, and I only really wanted to check out David Sedaris’ masterclass because he’s one of my favourite writers. But you have to buy a subscription for the whole thing, which I guess is fine. Martin Scorsese has a class, David Lynch has one, and there’s even a masterclass with one of the dudes that went to the Moon. Not sure what he’ll be teaching. How to defecate into a ziplock bag while floating? Something like that.

The Store Marcus: Look at this fly shit right here. Yeah, I’ll take some of those badass ‘harem pants’ for 50% off. It’s about time I changed my look up from ‘guy in jeans and t-shirt’ to ‘asswipe who gets around in harem pants while vaping and reading The Game’. These things are wicked. You could wear a hoodie for pants and get the same look, but why not treat yourself to some genuine harem pants and see how many oranges you carry around in your gusset?

Doggovinci: Has Instagram been reading my 2021 dairy? I wasn’t planning on knowing I’d need this for at least another year. You might be looking at this coffee cup and thinking, ‘what dreadfully tacky shit,’ but you are wrong. This is the gift that keeps giving, especially when you keep giving it to friends and family every Christmas. Feliz Navidad from señor Huey again!

This Ear Cleaner: I actually need one of these more than I need anything in the world. If my mother’s kidneys were failing, I’d still take this over a transplant. I’ve wanted to yank the gunk out my ears for years. I’ve begged doctors to do the syringe thing on me, but they always say No! And then I go home and pack the wax in deeper and deeper with a Derwent pencil. Not anymore, though. I’m getting one of these and having a rummage around in my noggin. I wonder what I’ll find… I wonder what it’ll smell like… Popcorn, most likely.

This Book: Duh. I know. I’m a broken record with this band, but I’ll probably buy this. Well done, creepy algorithm.

Planes.Live: This app has me baffled. Who really needs to see planes live? You just Google to find out if your cousin’s flight from Dallas is arriving on time, right? It’s not like the Uber Eats app where you salivate and curse while the little bicycle icon takes the scenic route to your house—these are little plane icons moving at the same snail’s pace they do when you watch the ‘Time To Destination’ show on the plane. Also—air travel is on ice right now. Ahhhh, but what about when planes start flying again? It’ll be this beautiful and very gradual thing that heralds the arrival of the post-COVID world: One plane… Two plane… Four-hundred-and-seventy-eight planes…  I’m buying it.

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