In honor of Psych, one of my top-five favorite basic cable comedy shows about a fake psychic detective agency, I've decided to start asking myself, "what would Shawn Spencer say?" or WWSSS for short (bracelets and other paraphernalia coming soon).
For example today, when a female co-worker told me "Wow, you look very un-slovenly today," SS would have S'd one of the following:
"Yes, but don't worry, tomorrow I'll return to my usual look, which I call 'homeless man riding on the No. 9 train to Slumsville with my trusty one-eyed, three-legged dog named 'Chipper' who only tolerates my oppressive stench because I let him eat out of my economy-size can of baked beans.'"
"Why, thank you. I recently tripped over something and discovered it was called an I-ron, and while it has extremely limited potential as a potato chip-maker, it turns out it can actually take wrinkles out of clothes."
"Wow, with friends to boost your ego like that, who needs parents?"
"Aww, you're too kind. When you say it like that, it almost doesn't sound like an insult."
"Hey, now. Don't be a carbon copy of Rachel McAdams' character in Mean Girls."
"Thank you. Can you keep a secret? They're coming for me today. The Children of the Corn. I've been applying and begging them to let me join for years, and this could finally be my big break."
"Well, I figured I should look my best for the back-handed compliment award ceremony we're having later today."
I didn't say any of these things. But I could have. Well, except for the one about the potato-chip maker. That's kind of a tongue-twister.
Anyway, you're on notice, fake compliment givers. And just in case anyone is still reading, I'll leave you with my favorite Spencer-ism of all time (so far):
Gus: How'd it go?
Shawn: Crashed and burned. Then somehow crashed again, in Chile, only to be eaten by my soccer teammates.