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Someone has invented a Bluetooth salt shaker and now we're all going to die


So, I guess that’s it, guys, it’s the end. Pack up your stuff, move out of your house, walk up a big hill somewhere and wait for the rapture. It’s the end of world, we’re going to die. We’ll all gather at the point closest to sky, with our placards reading THE END IS NIGH and then they’ll come, they’ll come and take us away. A giant Bluetooth salt shaker will descend from the heavens and suck us into oblivion. Life on earth is over as we know it.

But until then, I guess we’ll have to be content with just a mini version of our eventual mothership. Some absolute millenial slug has invented a Bluetooth salt shaker that plays music, presumably because they hate us, you, me, him, her, that and everything else in between.

“A Bluetooth salt shaker?” You say, grasping your analogue salt shaker so tightly that it splits, spraying white powder all over your bare feet – “What’s a Bluetooth salt shaker got to do with anything? And what actually is it? Oh my poor little pinkies, my poor trotters.”

Well, quit your rambling, you uneducated luddite – this is 2017, and you better fucking well deal with the fact that there are Bluetooth salt shakers now. Now there are salt shakers that have a “mood light” on them, which presumably is always flashing red because you’re still angry that you bought a Bluetooth salt shaker.

“I wish my salt shaker played music,” said – and I’m not one to use this word lightly – literally nobody ever. Yet this Bluetooth one does – you can coat your sauceless, way-too-al-dente pasta in a mound of tasty salt, while listening to The Vengaboys slowed down 10,000 times because that’s all you ever listen to. That’s all you ever listen to because you’re the type of person who buys a Bluetooth salt shaker. 

“I only listen to really slowed down versions of The Vengaboys,” you say, while smearing cream cheese all over your face. “I wish my salt shaker played music.”

There it is – that’s you. You’re the first person to say that. Luckily, there is now a salt shaker that does play music, and you’ve just bought it. You spent actual money on a Bluetooth salt shaker. 

“Look at this guys! It’s a Bluetooth salt shaker!” you say at your dinner party. But nobody replies, because you are on your own – nobody came to your dinner party.

“Are you going to that prick’s dinner party on Saturday?”

“No of course not, he’s got a Bluetooth salt shaker and I can’t bear to be around anyone that owns one.”


That’s the conversation that played out right after you sent a Facebook event invite called “Hey everyone, want to come to my dinner party? I’ve got a Bluetooth salt shaker and I’m such an unbelievable idiot”.

But there’s another twist – you didn’t send it to anyone because you don’t have any Facebook friends. Do you know why? It’s because everyone defriended you when you posted:


But hey, at least you’ve got your Bluetooth salt shaker to keep you company – at least there’s that. Oh and your girlfriend, I guess. But what does she think about it?

TRIPLE PLOT TWIST: obviously you don’t have one. Can you have sex with a Bluetooth salt shaker? Lord knows you’re going to try – that’s all you’ve got really, isn’t it? Unscrew the top, slide your wiener in and electrocute yourself. You’re on the Daily Sport’s front page, and it’s not a lie:

“EXCLUSIVE: I banged my Bluetooth salt shaker and 10,000 volts shot through my bellend!”

That’s your legacy, up there. That’s how you’ll be remembered – in lurid red type, sitting on a greasy spoon's sticky table while a bunch of large men laugh about you.

“A Bluetooth salt shaker?” He’ll scoff, laughing so hard that a baked bean flies out of his nose, “A BLUETOOTH SALT SHAKER? WHAT A TWAT. HAH!”

There’s another copy in a bin, a bird’s just shat on it. There’s one blowing through the park, alone, like you at your dinner party. There’s one being wrapped around some fish and chips, being coated in salt, dispensed by a non-Bluetooth salt shaker.

Oh well, as long as you don’t regret anything. As long as you’re OK with spending money on a Bluetooth salt shaker. As long as you’re fine with your behaviour.

So off you go – up that hill, they’re waiting for you. The horns are sounding – prepare for your new life, accept the end. This is it – the moment you’ve waited for your whole life. Head back, arms outstretched, all aboard.


But yeah, if you want to buy one (it’s called a Smalt, btw), you can do it here.



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