There’s nothing inherently wrong with a training kit for fish. It’s just the loss of possibility in your life. If you sit down in front of your fish tank and spend hours training your fish to swim through hoops and bump an underwater ball into an underwater soccer goal, you are implicitly saying, “I am not capable of more than this. I hereby decline my life’s utility.”

When your friends come over and you show them your trained fish, they will congratulate you. But not for training the fish. They are congratulating you for learning about yourself something that I (and many others) have learned ourselves: we will never do anything important in our lives, we will never move humanity forward as a species or culture, so it’s best if we just stay out of the way of the people who are.

Pretty much anything cuts a banana, but a banana cutter exists, and this one has (at the time of this post) 421 customer reviews.

Everyone is good at different things, but today I learned that I am good at cutting bananas by myself. Maybe you are too. Think of all the things you do in your life that don’t require a special tool that’s also shaped like the task you’re attempting. We’re prodigies, you and me, cutting our bananas with nothing more than a butter knife, punching the microwave buttons with our human fingers, walking across the kitchen floor in nothing but socks.

Sure, you could get a three-story $550 treehouse for your cat. Or, if you want to waste money on something that doesn’t notice, and might hate you, you could have a kid.

Three jars of liquefied bacon shouldn’t cost $46, but I guess if you’ve got to buy something for the sort of person that wants to eat bacon grease, you probably don’t have a choice. This is your gift to them, this year.

The customer reviews included such comments as “I ate it out of the jar.” Of course you did, you wanted a fifteen dollar jar of bacon grease to begin with, it wasn’t like you were going to use it sparingly as a condiment. When you were finished you probably chomped a big stick of butter and thought “I’m a major foodie.”

This $18.99 plastic bowl is not “the perfect solution” to eating pistachios, olives, and edamame. The perfect solution for those foods is to set out two regular cheap bowls and put the shells/seeds/pods in the empty one.

Or, let’s be honest, you can just pile the leftover crap up on your desk and let it dry out there for a couple of days. When you’re eating alone in front of the computer, the only person you have to impress is yourself.

This set of LEGO figures is some bullshit. When I was a kid, we had one Lego Man Head and it was a smiley face. Now these little people have emotions. Some of them have lipstick. Some of them have hair. There are LEGO cops with LEGO handcuffs.

It’s bullshit because it’s probably fun as hell and all we had was Smiley Face Lego Man and 3 channels on the goddamn TV and it sucked. And everyone was skinny, but for the same kind of bullshit reason. We had to eat weird stuff our parents cooked instead of going to Cracker Barrel and Burger King every night.

I’m not against progress, I’m just saying that it could at least be slow enough that it doesn’t make us mad. Our kids never had to inch through the internet on a modem or watch Duck Tales and get the stupid song stuck in their heads because it was the only thing on TV when they got home from school.

Also, that one LEGO lady is a blogger, she has a LEGO COMPUTER, what the cold hell?

If you asked women today what their biggest problem was, I bet the majority of them would say “My armpit is dark as hell and I hate it.” Enter Mayfair Armpit Whitening cream, two hundred dollars worth of precious pit-whitening salve, possibly guaranteed to make your dreams come true, in some cases.