The Worst Things For Sale

Three jars of liquefied bacon shouldn’t cost $46, but I guess if you’ve got to buy something for the sort of person that wants to eat bacon grease, you probably don’t have a choice. This is your gift to them, this year.

The customer reviews included such comments as “I ate it out of the jar.” Of course you did, you wanted a fifteen dollar jar of bacon grease to begin with, it wasn’t like you were going to use it sparingly as a condiment. When you were finished you probably chomped a big stick of butter and thought “I’m a major foodie.”

This $18.99 plastic bowl is not “the perfect solution” to eating pistachios, olives, and edamame. The perfect solution for those foods is to set out two regular cheap bowls and put the shells/seeds/pods in the empty one.

Or, let’s be honest, you can just pile the leftover crap up on your desk and let it dry out there for a couple of days. When you’re eating alone in front of the computer, the only person you have to impress is yourself.

This set of LEGO figures is some bullshit. When I was a kid, we had one Lego Man Head and it was a smiley face. Now these little people have emotions. Some of them have lipstick. Some of them have hair. There are LEGO cops with LEGO handcuffs.

It’s bullshit because it’s probably fun as hell and all we had was Smiley Face Lego Man and 3 channels on the goddamn TV and it sucked. And everyone was skinny, but for the same kind of bullshit reason. We had to eat weird stuff our parents cooked instead of going to Cracker Barrel and Burger King every night.

I’m not against progress, I’m just saying that it could at least be slow enough that it doesn’t make us mad. Our kids never had to inch through the internet on a modem or watch Duck Tales and get the stupid song stuck in their heads because it was the only thing on TV when they got home from school.

Also, that one LEGO lady is a blogger, she has a LEGO COMPUTER, what the cold hell?

If you asked women today what their biggest problem was, I bet the majority of them would say “My armpit is dark as hell and I hate it.” Enter Mayfair Armpit Whitening cream, two hundred dollars worth of precious pit-whitening salve, possibly guaranteed to make your dreams come true, in some cases.

This is a big stand that you keep on your desk, and it takes up a ton of room. You put your iPhone in it and pretend it’s 2001, and you have a huge office telephone hooked to the wall with a wire. Not bad for twenty bucks, though, that’s not— Wait, it’s not twenty bucks? It’s $165?!

Huh. Okay.

Whether or not you like the way tattoos look, it takes some fortitude to sit for twenty or thirty hours while a dude drills into your skin with a needle. Your skin leaks fluid and it’s painful and itchy and you have to keep it clean and colored scabs fall off, and the scabs look like fruity pebbles. It’s hard, and it’s gross, and it proves you can endure pain for the reward of a drawing on your body.

Wearing two spandex cylinders printed with tattoo art on your arms to pretend you have real tattoo sleeves is ALMOST as cool as all of that, though.

Is this, reaching inside the oven and grabbing the oven rack, really how you burn your hand, a lot? And do you put the pizza right on the dirty ass oven rack anyway? Maybe you do, maybe this is all normal. Feel free to let me know if this is a normal thing you do with your human hand, sticking it in a hot oven and burning it before you remember the reason you’re going in there is that you were cooking.