Our house was burglarized last year. The perpetrators kicked in our French doors in the back of the house, and managed to take off with our XBOX 360, Wii, MacBook, the zoom lens for our SLR camera, and Mr. MarshMueller’s fancy hiking/photography backpack. We were pissed. We were violated. We were grateful they didn’t take real things of value, like identity documents, heirloom jewelry, and grateful they didn’t steal/harm our animals. But we were still pissed.

My days usually consist of rolling out of bed at the crack of noon-thirty, risking bathing in the 50/50 Scalding Water, Ice Water Roulette Shower of Doom, get ready and go off to work to deal with idiotic, simple minded jerks from the public for eight hours, then come home and play Call of Duty until the wee hours (true story). Occasionally though, I see products that make me stop and wonder just what in the hell is wrong with people these days. Umbrellas for dogs, oxygen bars, and Booty Pop, just to name a few.  Behold, the latest absurdly frivolous thing that made my day come to a screeching halt for approximately a minute before I resumed running around the apartment with half a cantaloupe on my head and screaming “I am a hamster!” :

You’re gonna need a banana, duct tape, and a knife.

And a microwave.

And a Shania Twain T-shirt, if possible.

Ever wanted to know what it would be like to fuck a dead guy (other than that really drunk bro from the bar who couldn’t get it up)? I know I have!

Now you too can experience the joys of necrophilia without the pesky legal implications!

Chia Obama

This is the proper way to honor a Nobel Prize winner?

Baby Jesus Butt Plug, anyone?

As you may have just read, I visited Gawker in depth for the first time this morning.  It’s there I saw an ad for SyFy, the brand new new brand image of the SciFi channel, coming in July.

First: What the fuck.

Second: This seems to be an attempt by the SciFi channel to reach a broader audience, and not just the gamers and geeks which the term “Sci-Fi” is most closely associated with.  From the looks of it, their programming will remain mostly unchanged, featuring shows about gaming and geekitude and even a show featuring Eric Stoltz.

Silly, silly humans.  All you are doing is making yourself look extra delicious.  Your silly panda food accessories will just be desert to the feast that is you.

The only thing worse is bamboo toothpicks.  Oh, the irony.

Image via babygirlboutique

Oh, how I long for a simpler day.  A day in which one can drive, or steer the cart, rather, down the empty cobblestone avenues, taking your sweet, sweet ass time staring at the clouds and daydreaming about one day maybe being chosen by the Jonas Brothers to play bass in the backup band.

A better time indeed.

Instead, I get cut off by a middle-aged fatty making damn sure all around her know exactly how she feels

It’s come to this:

Over the years as the culture has changed, along with many laws, I have re-evaluated the quality of my childhood.  I see now that what seemed like a perfectly normal middle-American church-going Midwestern family, was actually fraught by patterns of neglect and abuse.

I can see now that my salt-of-the-earth schoolteacher mother and father were sorely lacking in basic parenting skills.

Here’s the Oscar Nom’s if you fancy playing.

Well – not them all. The main ones. You know – the ones that usually get reported on.

Maybe make up your own categories in the comments? I dunno.

I’m easy. But strict.

As we begin to slice our budgets more deeply than the crack in Unfun’s ass, the one expense that’s relatively pain-free to reduce is lunch. Close kin to brown nosing, brown bagging shows the boss that you are willing to roll up your shirt sleeves and work through the lunch hour, as well as keeping your eye on the bottom line. A thrown together sandwich of pastrami and swiss, each made from happy cows, costs little compared to a similar bite at Michael’s. But what if you work with light fingered I-Bankers and your sandwich won’t be safe until noon or the next bailout? Rest easy, my hungry Wordsmoking friend, not even Virus will touch the Anti-Theft Lunch Bag!

Image Via www.thinkofthe.com

Those little copper discs masquerading as American currency – and the reason 99-cent menus exist at all – will continue to jangle around in your pockets and make your hands smell funny for a few years more.  That’s because the U.S. mint has issued four new pennies in observance of Abraham Lincoln’s 200th birthday.

The penny isn’t dead.  Long live the penny.

The first quarter of the advertising year is often slow. The struggling economy has crippled the advertising business. This Perfect Storm has left the networks with a glut of empty ad slots. The winner? Direct response advertising and us, the viewer.

No doubt you’ve seen these ads. The bearded guy yelling at you because you NEED his OxyClean. (Oh yes, and he now has a web page that comes with porn!) The ShamWow and the Ped Egg (so ingenius, you can scrape your feet at the kitchen table!). Direct Response advertisers buy time at rock-bottom rates. In return, there are no guarantees when, or if, the spots will air. While they used to be relegated to the late, late, late show, Direct Response ads are now finding a home in prime time. You’ll see them pop up during the Keith Olberman show.