“The Young Man’s Guide To Female Management,” reads the subtitle of this book. “Female” is the favorite word of men’s-rights advocates, after all, because unlike “women” or “ladies”, it doesn’t imply that they are human.

The most curious thing about people who hold these appalling views on women – that they are all lazy, gold-diggers, greedy, manipulative, et cetera – is that they are still obsessed with “getting” and “keeping” women, as they would a car, or an action figure. If women must be managed, if they are this antisocial, this awful, why pursue them at all?

I can’t answer that question. Maybe there is no reasonable answer. Anyway, as you might expect, the reviews point out that it’s riddled with grammatical and spelling errors.

The MudJug Portable Spittoon is portable, because why have a spittoon if it’s not portable?

I wasn’t going to post about this, because I thought, “Well, better a spittoon than an old Mountain Dew bottle full of dip spit” but then I saw “Customers who bought this also bought” and it was full of confederate flags and I couldn’t resist.

Also, they have it in camouflage, because what good’s a spittoon if the enemy can see you? Ptuh.

Most of us are looking at about 78 years here on Big Blue & Green. Each second that ticks down, each GIF you scroll past, is sand through the hourglass. You will never get that back. Time, entropy, going off a diet, these things are all irreversible.

Given that we must make the best of the tiny amount of time we’re going to breathe air and eat food, is the best use of our lives to purchase and use a Spider Catcher? To relocate spiders from inside the house to the outside, without hurting them?

Or is this, the preservation of arguably non-conscious life that exists mainly to murder and eat insects, the true meaning of our lives?

I’ll let you ponder that. I’ve got bugs to squash and about 200 episodes of COPS that aren’t going to watch themselves.

This is a cute idea in theory. Sure, you can make your own cookie dough, or you can make your own fake cookie dough (without eggs) and then use it to craft intricate recipes. Wow, cookie-dough doughnuts! Cookie-dough pizza!

The problem is that if you like to sit around and eat cookie dough, you will not ever make a recipe. You have already established that cutting a plastic weiner of premade cookie dough onto any pan and then leaving the pan in the oven for twenty minutes is too much work for you.

In the interest of fairness, though, this might be a fun book to read while you’re squeezing two thousand calories of liquid fat and sugar into your face from a plastic tube.