Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Shammy Shammy CoCoPuff, Shammy Shammy Wow!

One day A Woman Wrote Some Letters...

Dear ShamWoW Guy:

Oh dear. Where do I begin? It is always good to begin with Truth, for if one writes the truth, one never fears being “Found Out.” Yet, sometimes writing truths brings about issues of things, such as those that bite one on the hind end. Therefore, I held battle within. Who won? Well, it will be for someone else to decide, not I.

ShamWoW Guy; I shall tell you that whencly I firstly met you, oh, not personally, but on my television screen, I was repelled! Your face filled the screen and I jumped back several feet, over the back of my couch, and into the next room. That Popeye squint; and those tired, baggy, dark-circled eyes; that jittery mouth moving here, there, yonder, and back; the pale of your cheeks (and please, eat something Mister Man! Please, I worry—you’ve become so thin!). And, whilst I tried not to, I immediately compared you to Mister Billy Mays—yes, yes, not fair, for Mister Billy Mays is swarthy handsome full-bearded broad-shouldered khaki-wearing bright-eyed-and-busy-tailed demeanor, along with his LOUD VERY LOUD EAR-EARTH SPLITTING SHATTERING LOUD, fills the screen, nevertheless, with a wholesome aw shuckness that while one is quickly changing the channel so one is not rendered insane, one still sees that hearty health and eager demeanor. The comparison is liken to … to…comparing a big thick juicy steak (served to you by a very loud and obnoxious in law, however) to a piece of three-day-old chicken thigh (served by that tired old person who gets on the bus everyday as if the world is sitting right upon their shoulders).

But you, dear ShamWoW Guy. Dear dear You, when one day I watched you out of sheer pity, I saw something! There was a desperate quality, yes. There was a “Please Please listen to me! Please, just don’t change that channel! I’ll go Real Fast and you won’t even notice me hardly at all, just give me a moment and you’ll barely feel a thing!” But, beyond that, I softened towards that Popeye squinted eye and that exhausted mug, and the way you, Mister Shammy Shammy Cocoa Puff, gazed slightly to the right, and then to the left, and then up, and then down, anywhere but directly into my eyes, and there, in that moment, I said, “Awwwwww. Poor Shammy Bo Blammy!”

Now, dear dear ShamWowy, when you POP out onto the screen, with your little cloths and your little messes to clean—and your aunt Sloopy, your sister Merry-Mae, your granny Tootie, your momma, your uncle Jeb, your ex-girlfriend who shall remain nameless but was in the commercial before she dumped you, and your psychiatrist, all helping you sell your wares with the same exhausted but determined demeanor—well, I feel my heart pumping with pity and I stay and watch you, sometimes even until the end of the entire info-mercial!

In closing, You Dear Shammy Man, know that out of the thousands and thousands of people you are squinting to so endearingly, there is at least One (me!) who appreciates your beauty, your style, your relatives who shout, “WHAT EVER WOULD I DO WITHOUT MY SHAMMY CLOTH?!!?!??!?!???!??!”, your elfin-ruined face, and within all of that, I found your beauty.

With Love and Respect,

Kathryn Magendie

PS – Oh dear Shammy Man!
Look what I found! Tsk Tsk Tsk – Oh Heavy sigh! They just don’t get you, do they? Not like me~! No sir. Not lik me….


Angie Ledbetter said...

LMBFBahonkusO! "busy-tailed"????!

Michelle H. said...

Oh, no you didn't!!! Hahaha!!

"your elfin-ruined face" haha!

Missy said...

You are too funny. That guy (I think his name in Vince) gives me the creeps....he really does! Between his creepy looks and Billy May's big mouth, I don't know which is worse.

Patty said...

Classic. I love it. I don't like that guy, though. My husband gets a hoot out of those commercials and others like them, especially the one guy who yells really loud and has Grecian in his hair. I use my TIVO to blast past those commercials.

Love your writing style. You write with such ease.

I write for the paper occasionally (feature stories when I feel like it), but it takes me two weeks to do a story. I can't even write a sentence without editing it five times, hence all my mistakes that make writers on blogs feel like they are are hearing fingernails scratching on blackboards as they read my posts.

I only have so much time, though. I just barely get the point across and then I am gone, hoping I will get at least a "D" from professional writers.

Michelle said...


Small Footprints said...

LOL ... Ha! Brilliant! Thanks for the grins and giggles!

Small Footprints

Debbie said...

So you are the one encouraging him. Stop it right now!