Have you ever heard of Wish? If not, I can sum it up pretty plainly: It’s an online shopping mall of horrors.
The only catch is that 99% of what you buy ships from China, so it may or may not ever make it to you.
The positive to this is that, five months from now, when you’ve completely forgotten you’d ordered a $2 waffle/pancake/egg/cake baking mold, it’s like a mini surprise Christmas when it arrives.
That is, if what you ordered isn’t utter crap.
To be fair, out of the five or so things I’ve ordered off Wish, I recall only one thing totally sucking.
So, to that, do not order clothes from Wish unless you weigh precisely 80 pounds, soaking wet.
I was feeling like playing it dangerously, so I ordered this hideous gauzy, lime green monstrosity. It was similar to this:
When I finally got it, three years later, the gauzy neon look was totally out. Not to mention, the XL size wouldn’t even fit over my fat head. Had it fit, it would have made a fabulous choker necklace, as it was My Size Barbie size.
So, I wasted $7 and three years of my life waiting for something I forgot I ordered. Not a big deal in the whole scheme of things.
Wish is harmless, if you go into it knowing you can’t be in dire need of any item you deem worthy of buying, and you understand that the quality is just a notch above the Dollar Store.
Lately, I’ve been bombarded, accosted by Wish ads on Facebook. I swear, every other post is a random Wish ad.
Why this is of any interest to myself (and, hopefully, you) is the nature of what Wish is advertising.
It’s weird af.
And, unlike most ads on Facebook that are creepily accurate and timely (I’m not even ashamed to admit that I was googling “hemorrhoid cream”-it’s great for undereye puffiness-and not five minutes later an ad for Preparation H showed up in my Facebook ads), these “suggestions” are downright nope-eff-you-Wish.
The following are not things I’ve previously Googled.
WTF?! Why? Please tell me this is a mouth trainer for when you want to make a face that expresses surprise, but your facial muscles are too weak, so this helps make them strong, and literally nothing else.
What.in.the.holy.hell is this? I have so many questions.
Is this a fake pregnancy belly? (I’m only guessing that, because the description says, “LIZ 5-7 Months…”)
Why does one need an artificial pregnancy belly? Is this for a messed up April Fool’s joke? A scam? A weird fetish? Also, why is this not $2 like everything else?
$221 for a fake blob of flesh is not a steal! I say!
EXCEPT IT’S A MINIATURE PENIS WITH EYES AND AN ASS CRACK.
Is this a pencil topper or something?
Now, this next one is definitely PG-13, maybe R-rated. If you’re an innocent, dainty flower, maybe you’ve read enough. Just sayin’.
So, when I first saw this one, I legit thought it was just a regular old hammock. These were my thoughts:
What have you got now, Wish?
What is that?
Is that a hammock?
Two people in a hammock? That’s just asking for trou…
What the hell are they doing?!
My virgin eyes!
I think they’re…doing it in a hammock!
I had to get confirmation.
Me: “Babe! Look at this hammock for sale on Wish! They are being quite unsafe! Imagine me, just me in a hammock. I’d just be innocently trying to get into the damn thing to read or nap, and I’d probably get wrapped up, spin like an out-of-control gyro meat machine, and end up flat on my face. Who is crazy enough to attempt sex in a fucking hammock?”
Him: “Yup. That looks exactly like what they’re doing. We’d probably break the damn thing, and, with my luck, I’d get a potted plant up my ass.”
Behold, you can buy a sex swing hammock for $31 on Wish!
Sorry, I was gagging on my diet root beer.
Every time I see this, I can’t even.
I’ve paid close to $50 for Spanx that are intended to do literally the opposite of what these $5 tights that wouldn’t fit an American infant are trying to do.
Why, why are we trying to make oddly placed bubbles of thigh fat fashionable? Is this a thing? Please tell me it’s not.
Wish, what the ever-loving fuck?