It’s that time again! Yes sirree, i just spent ten hours stuck on an airplane with precious little to go through other than a beat up copy of SkyMall and You Get the Rewards* (note: “rewards” do not necessarily condone or include actual benefit and may be simply my attempt to make you all suffer as much as i did.)
We’ve all been there. Why, just this past week, i remember walking along a nearly deserted beach watching the sun sink beneath crimson clouds as the distant flash of a thunderstorm accented the coming night. As the breeze swept through the long grasses and the waves crashed against the shore, i thought: “You know what would make this moment perfect? Booting me up some Excel.” And now, thankfully, i can!
You know how you can easily identify someone with a drinking problem? My guess is that the State Troopers are tipped off folks with their very own breath tests.
But how can you define being XTREEM! (note the use of “X” and the radical disregard of spelling that conveys XTREMEYNESSTICITY!) and somehow manage to make a professional skateboarder look like an absolute dork? Why, just have him reinvent the pogo-stick. By the way, i’m even more convinced that sharper image is, well, losing their edge, so to speak. Having reintroduced the scooter a few years ago, and now launching the pogo-stick, i can only imagine that within a few years they’ll be advertising a new version of HoOpZ.
And what pool party wouldn’t be complete without a non-authorized public viewing of a movie on an inflatable screen? Now it’s not just Hope that Floats, the latest box office sinker can too. Granted, Caddy Shack taught us that other things float too, but let’s not dwell on that.
Still, there’s no arguing that travelling sucks. It’s crowded, it’s loud, and the seats are uncomfortable. So why not make it suck more by zipping yourself into your own comfy body bag? Oh sure, you’ll have to make this, one rather useless item your only carry-on, but at least you’ll not only look goofy, but you’ll discover that being zipped up in your own little corpse-sack makes getting out to the bathroom just that much harder. i wonder how absorbent that thing is?
Still, you’re away from home and your loving family. i know it’s hard. So naturally, you probably want a cute cuddly way to spy on your children, right? Oh sure you do. That or finally have a way to combine your multiple fetishes for voyeurism, pedophilia, and furries all into one (hopefully machine washable) package.
There’s no greater cherished memory of childhood than catching fireflies in a jar, is there. Still thanks to rampant overdevelopment and hours of PS2 related seat-planting, who can be bothered with the thought of meekly walking up to a flying bug and stuffing it in a jar? That’s why now you don’t have to worry about that needless “nature” thing anymore. Yes, now you can get a jar of flickering lights that absolutely do not resemble fireflies in any way, shape or form, well, unless you’ve managed to get some sort of firefly four-way or mutant strain of militaristic fireflies that all strobe at the same time.
But that’s not all, since now you can sate your little future NASCAR Dad by installing his very own race car ceiling fan. Granted, as the temperature climbs, your child can imagine the G-Forces that Dale Earnhart Jr.-Jr. gets to experience as his car whips around the track at 120 RPM, but that’s a science lesson for a future date. One can also only hope that the incredible attention to detail also includes an option to have the little #3 car fly off after a few hours and smack into the wall. (Tiny blood and internal organ packets sold separately)
And yet, there’s even more grounds for future therapy as you drop your child into the amazing child harness. Based on the same amazing technology used to hang convicted felons in the early 19th century, My First Frog-Marcher allows your child to be the unwanted center of heaping abuse by every other four to five year old that managed to master the intricacies of actual self ambulation. Your child will release anguished cries of joy at seeing you pull this out, Wait, no, those aren’t really “joy” cries, are they?
But don’t forget about your own comfort. After all, think of all the years of agony we have suffered every time we’ve stuck our elbow out the car window. Haven’t you always thought, “Gee, you know, even though it’s always been the last thing in my mind, like ever, it sure would be great if i could spend $25 bucks on a dorky arm rest pillow for my door.” After all, it shouldn’t be just your child that suffers humiliating looks and outright shouts of laughter and derision, you should too.
And finally, there’s your neglected pet. Piddles may still hate you oh so much for the strolling carrier you got him last time, but now you can try to smooth things over with the ultimate CD filled with songs to make your dog happy. Yes, now parents of real human children won’t be the only ones stuck listening to the same damn record over and over. Your little bitch-baby can make you suffer too! Leave it on loop as you spend your day at work to find Fido dangling from the dining room chandelier.