Do you have any medical problem at all? Are you willing to chug piss? Then you’re in luck. Thanks to the worldwide network of cranks that have brought us scams such as essential oils, Morgellon’s and homeopathy, you can now drink your own sunshine as a way to avoid real medical treatment. Fill dozens of 2-liters up with this miracle cure, and then tell everyone about how you rub yourself down with pee and drink it. “Those doctors don’t know what they’re talking about,” you say, sipping a martini glass full of kidney juice. “They’re just trying to make money.”

Then again, you could drink this squeeze bottle full of wolf urine to maybe (probably!) become a wolf.

Jasmuheen, an author best known for killing multiple people through her books insisting that human beings don’t need to eat food, now has an even-more-poorly written book called “Queen Of The Matrix.” It borrows heavily from the Harry Potter and The Matrix franchises, and is set in the world from The Matrix. (The “Look Inside” is a must if you’ve got a minute.)

It’s best read with Jasmuheen’s album Rhythms, a shitty soup of sitar, 90s breakbeats, and nursery rhymes which you can hear here.

“Holds Your Backup Slice,” brags Pizza Pouch. It is, completely believably, “frequently sold with” these. Which is probably easier to integrate with an outfit than these pants.

This soap has “BUTT” on one side and “FACE” on the other. So you don’t get your butt germs on your face. Except that, according to studies, your face actually has more germs on it than your butt. Whoops!

The “Face Butt Towel” operates on the same principle, keeping your face germs from going on your butt. Even though you use a bath towel AFTER you wash. So I guess it keeps your face clean from getting on your butt clean.

My favorite of these items, though, is the “Face/Ass Sponge”, which not only doesn’t keep germs from your face and butt separate, but stores them inside the sponge, incubating them in your hot, moist shower for day after day, handy for redistribution onto the face or butt of your choice.

The author of Stinky Steve: A Minecraft Mishap leads with these two sentences: “Do you like Minecraft? Do you think farts are funny?” Bizarrely, this is not the first questionable book called Stinky Steve that I’ve written about. The other one (Stinky Steve Explains Medical Marijuana) has since become a series, with the sequel Stinky Steve Explains Daddy’s Dabs.

The Indie Rock Coloring Book may have been made with adult-colorers in mind, but I’d prefer to imagine it as a hopeful training manual for young minds to avoid music that kicks ass. “Only within the lines!” you’ll shout, grabbing your child’s hand to stifle their creativity. “And muted colors. None of this bright stuff. This is indie rock. We’re not sellouts.”

Of course, you could be coloring this yourself, in which case, have a ball, you stock-photo-looking mild-music addict.  

What’s worse, these $38,016 speakers, or the one hundred twenty-four “funny” reviews?