Combine Polaroid nostalgia with an iPhone, and what do you have? The popular social-photo site Instagram? Think again! It’s an over-$100 “printer” which amounts to a black plastic box. You put the iphone in the top, put some polaroid film in the bottom, open the shutter, and the film is exposed to the light from your iPhone. You’ll need some new-issue Polaroid film ($$$$ for 8 sheets) as well, if you can find it.

The Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream lock is a cute idea, but seriously… if you don’t want to share a pint of ice cream, you can eat the whole thing. It’s only 1,400 calories. For shit’s sake, this is America. If you can’t put away 1,400 calories of ice cream in one sitting, you’re not even in the 50th-percentile of ice-cream eaters in this country.

Now, you can live your dreams of being a star. As the manufacturer of Beams By Flo says in their infomercial (below), “Why spend thousands of dollars on frustrating music lessons?” Watch it only if you want to see the rapper Flo Rida try to sell people a laser-theremin that plays country music.

The Rollie Eggmaster is a “vertical grill”. What this means is that you crack an egg down into this thing and put a stick in the liquid egg, and then you pull it out and it’s an egg popsicle. Which doesn’t sound that delicious, but boy, when you look at that egg popsicle, it…

…hmm, okay.

A bag of potato chips costs about three bucks. The potatoes you’d need to make a bag’s worth of potato chips cost about three bucks. The math doesn’t seem to be working out for me, as far as saving money by making your own potato chips.

But maybe there’s a land where you get potatoes and vegetable oil for free, and you can heat them on a stove that gets hot for free, and it doesn’t take all fucking night to cut potatoes up into thin slices, and then your greasy kitchen cleans itself. In that land, you’re definitely doing the right thing by making your own potato chips.

The joke, never quite funny, and already taken too far, now takes on a more sinister edge. We are now trapped in our bacon future. Everything smells dead, salty, crispy. Nothing is untainted by the scent, the texture, the colors of hog-drippings. The animals eat our trash, and we eat them, and we are the trash. “Throw us away,” we shout in unison, and history obliges.

Are you mortally terrified that your bare hand might come close to your poop butt? Then check out Shittens, a butt-wipe that fits over your whole hand. The lone positive review said “My ass is just too big [...] inevitably I wound up with poop on the side of my hand, my knuckles, or wrist.” I think the problem this reviewer has could be solved in a better way than Shittens, but I’m glad he no longer has to deal with the horror of shitwrist.