I blurred this for obvious reasons, but if you want to see what a leopard-print erection slipcover looks like, be my guest.

Sure, it’s just about the size of a real-life horse, but do you really want to pay this much for a lamp? And where are you going to put it?

You might think there hasn’t been a demand for merkins since the early 1900s, but here we are, in the 2010s, and here’s a merkin. If you’re not stupefied yet, click through to see what they called the black one. What the fuck?!

Keep your hands off, men! This gun screwdriver is for GIRLS ONLY! You can tell because it’s pink, like all women’s tools.

(The men’s version, Silver Gun Screwdriver, is five dollars cheaper. But you can’t put a price on femininity.)

An inflatable bondage chair is probably not a convincing way to roleplay that you’re unable to move. “Help,” you’ll moan unconvincingly, “I’ve been velcroed to a piece of dorm furniture.” There’s also the downside that anyone who sees it will assume you’re a balloon fetishist, like Tim Popper, the suspiciously balloon-fetish-named author of “Blowing It”, a 132-page work of balloon-fetish fiction.

“The Ironwood Collection Of Alpha Moves” is an ebook that promises to teach a married man how to use pickup-artist manipulation to improve his relationship with his wife. I strongly recommend you hit the “Look Inside” link to take a peek into this man’s attempt to cajole his wife into intercourse, but if you can’t stomach reading something that begins with a picture of a fedora, you should at least know that he refers to sex as “nookie.”

You should also know that to “make her panties wet”, you should text your wife, “I want Golden Corral tonight. I’ll meet you there at 7:30. Order me a Coke if you get there first.” A man’s man, you see, always gets a Coke. It is the most alpha of sodas, m’lady.

In case you can’t handle the logistics of wrapping meat and vegetables in a foil pouch and sticking it on top of your gross car engine, the authors of Manifold Destiny have outlined the procedures for you. And in case you don’t want to use the “Look Inside” link, here’s a summary: Wrap any kind of food in foil, set it on your engine manifold, then drive for an hour and pray that your raw chicken doesn’t slide off into your serpentine belt or timing chain.

Then again, who needs power steering, or, uh… (googles parts of a car) pistons… crankshaft?