“Mom, the fish tank!”

Was playing poker recently at a friend’s house. One of the players got a text during the game, from some strange area code he didn’t recognize. It said something about aquariums for sale at special discount prices. It was the first spam text he’d ever gotten and he was not only annoyed at the message itself but fearful of the future flood of text spam it might portend.

Sure enough, five minutes later he got another text, from a different area code. This was one less intelligible, mangling some basic rules of grammar and diction, but it was still clear enough that this person was selling some type of apparatus for containing small marine animals.

Our friend managed to put his concern aside and went back to the poker game. Ten minutes later he got a third text. He hadn’t responded to the first two, of course, and I could imagine the sender getting more and more frustrated, or high, or both, because this final text just cut to the chase. It read simply:

“Fish tank.”

No number to call, no link to click. It was the most surreal (if ineffective) spam message of all time, I think. I loved it. It reminded me of Will Ferrell in “Wedding Crashers,” when he’s lounging on the couch during Owen Wilson’s visit. He yells out to his mom that they want some meatloaf, and would she bring them some. When she doesn’t respond, he yells again and again, more and more curtly, until he finally just screams, “Mom! The meatloaf! Fuck!”

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