No, it’s not an accessory to beat your meat, or whip your chicken. That’s why it’s got those spikes on the bottom, to keep you from sitting on it. It’s like the spikes they put on signs to keep pigeons off, or the spikes they put in entryways to keep homeless people from sleeping there.

Smile Maker is a plastic appliance you wedge into your mouth, supposedly to train yourself to smile. Here’s what it looks like when it’s in your mouth.

Are you unable to handle asparagus without a specialized container to do it for you? Then you’ll need the Prepara Pod, a standing plastic container to suspended-animate your asparagus or herbs inside your fridge. The nut of the ad copy is “Now that’s better than a damp cloth!”, which is true for a lot of products, but also reveals its unnecesary expense and use of nonrenewable materials.

Even if you’re into eating chocolate dirt buttons, the reviews note that the asscandy, which ships from overseas, arrives melted. Edible Anus also gets a boo from me for censoring the word ANUS, the least profane word or phrase out of thousands that could be used to describe the butthole.

I can’t think of a worse outcome than presenting this ring box to someone with trembling hands, telling them to open it, and then a butt comes out and it makes a fart noise.

There are a few good ways to get secure passwords for your accounts, and while A Book Of Random Passwords fulfills the “capital and lowercase, number and symbol” architecture everyone asks for, it’s also a small, finite set of possibilities for attackers who might want to brute-force your password.

Mix-and-match fonts? Check.

Arrow on it for no reason? Check.

Maximum adventure value of $388.40 using the dimensions of 6x6x2.5″, hexagonal packing density of 0.9 (ignoring edges), 17.9mmx1.35mm size of a dime (coin with the highest value-per-volume), and ignoring that the inside dimensions are smaller than the exterior measurements of the box? You bet.