“I have to poop! HAW! HAW HAW!” someone, somewhere laughs, and then clicks BUY MUG.

When I see things like this I wonder about the buyer. I wonder what this person thinks about at night, right before they’re going to sleep, what their hopes are, what they envision for their future, and what they envision for their family’s future. Probably pooping.

If you’ve been on the internet for more than thirty seconds in the past year, you’ve probably seen Rachael Ray’s “Late Night Bacon” recipe, which I won’t bother linking, because it just says to microwave bacon on a plate, and you have Google.

Continuing her dominance of the culinary world’s cutting edge is Rachael Ray’s Garbage Bowl, which is a special $20 bowl you’re supposed to buy to put your scraps in. If you peel carrots at the counter, Rachael Ray says to put the shavings in this bowl. I don’t know why. You put scraps in the trash, right? I mean, you personally, as a human being?

Customers who bought this item also bought about 70 other overpriced, unnecessary Rachael Ray-branded items. I didn’t exaggerate when I said 70 other items, either. You gotta click through and look at this enormous load of shit so I don’t spend the whole next week talking about how you don’t need a $20 oil bottle because when you buy the oil it already comes in a fucking bottle.

What’s more fun than giving your pet rat a bed that looks like a wedge of cheese?

Give up?

How about NOT INTENTIONALLY KEEPING A PLAGUE ANIMAL IN YOUR HOUSE AND FEEDING AND TOUCHING IT.

Have you ever listened to 90s music with a pharaoh? Put the CDs in a sarcophagus.

Why bring your lunch to work every day when you could just order an EMERGENCY LUNCH/DINNER, 90 DAYS bucket and have it delivered straight to work?

The existence of this product isn’t perplexing, but if you flip through the images they give you of the meals, I’m not sure how it applies to disaster-based eating. I’m pretty sure that if I’m crouched in my basement with a crowbar and my bucket of EMERGENCY LUNCH/DINNER 90 DAYS I won’t be able to garnish my survival rice with a sprig of mint and serve it in enamel bakeware on top of freshly folded linens. But maybe survival means different things to different people.

In what universe is a $1,300 stuffed six-foot-tall grizzly bear “an affordable gift for your little one”? Because in my universe, an affordable gift for my little one is the dollar section at Target that’s right next to the carts.

Tired of your golf buddies laughing at your slice or your putting? Divert their attention with a $7,999 Segway that holds your golf clubs. They’ll be so busy laughing at your helmeted scootering from hole-to-hole that they’ll forget about your score.

In case you’re still uncertain about dropping 80 benjamins on Idiot Scooter: Golf Edition, the copy points out that a Segway travels over uneven trails and errant rocks. You know… like legs.