There are FIFTY?

I was looking at Cosmo online. This is a problem right away, I know, but bear with me.

Over the years Cosmo has taught me a lot... and then one day I realized that, in actuality, Cosmo has only taught me the same thing over and over, which tricks you into thinking you're being taught "a lot". And then I realized that the thing Cosmo has taught me over and over was that they only have two things to offer me... stuff I already know and stuff I would never do.

These are all real article titles that I got from their website. And guess what, all of these are the same damn article...

10 Cravings All Guys Have

28 Moves For Wow-That-Was-An-Amazing-Night

Best Kama Sutra Tips and Sex Positions

10 New Sex Positions To Try

The Cosmo Girl's Guide to Oral Sex

Hang on... that last one... um, what? No, don't read that article. Just don't.

(sidenote: if you're related to me, you probably should just stop reading right now, because I really don't need you staring at me in horror over Christmas dinner. Go read the one I wrote about infomercials instead. I promise, it's funny)

They are not going to tell you anything that's going to help you. Every article about that topic comes down to one thing... "have him drink pineapple juice."

I don't really know whether or not that one is true because no normal evening can possibly involve a woman approaching her man with glass of pineapple juice and saying "Here, I brought you a drink." (By the way, who actually keeps pineapple juice in their house as a habit to begin with? Unless a bottle of Malibu is on the same shopping list, of course)

If his reply is anything other than "What the hell for? Go get me a beer." then what you have on your hands is a man who knows what's about to take place because he has been reading Cosmo also, and that presents a whole other set of problems.

Here's the only guide to oral sex you need. Pay attention:

1) They like it.

2) They want you to do it. Probably a lot.

3) This is a perfectly reasonable substitute for regular sex.

4) They really would like more of this.

5) If you don't want to do this, you can probably distract them with a bottle of beer and a couple of shiny objects. Dangle some car keys in front of them or turn on some type of sporting event. Or a cartoon.

There, that's your list. Five simple points. And I probably could have stopped at two. Because I know better. Cosmo knows better too, but they are in the business of selling magazines, so they have to tell you that there are "20 things you never knew about some x-rated thing or another" or "70 things to try in bed" or "45 ways you know he's into you."

There aren't. Whatever number of things they tell you there are, divide it by 5, and that's your core set of information. And I'm being generous.

I've been onto the Cosmo peoples' tactics for years. Don't con me with "15 things to try in bed tonight", because I read that article six issues ago when you were calling it "10 ways to have a hot night." So don't make up five more things about 'surprising' him with a blindfold and feathers and expect me not to see right through the trickery.

Now once in awhile, they slip you one that's helpful or informative, like "Best Drugstore Cosmetics Under $25", or one that's a little entertaining, like "Supermodels Without Makeup" (I always look at those... "Hey, look, Claudia Schiffer looks like absolute dogcrap first thing in the morning too! Yay!" Kind of makes you realize they are just people like us. It's rather heartwarming!!)

Basicially, the rule - by which I mean MY rule - with Cosmo (or any of these publications, really) is this: Whatever is printed on the cover in the biggest, boldest font is nothing but recycled crap with a new title, and all it's going to tell you is to greet your man at the door wearing nothing but silver slingbacks and holding a Swiffer.

The one in the second biggest font, also recycled, is going to tell you, yet again, about G Spots and where, how, when and why to go looking for them. What they do not tell you is that it's like a hunter trying to shoot an invisible deer 1600 yards away.

The one with the font that's just slightly smaller than the G Spot font is going to give you 4, 6 or 8 "quick tips" for a flat stomach. It's always an even number with the exercise tips. And one of them is always "drink plenty of water". You know what, I'll give you the only tip you'll ever need for a flat stomach... wake the hell up from your dream. We are what we are. Oh, and drink plenty of water.

But this time, they came up with one that got me to click...

50 Great Things To Do With Your Breasts

And when I read that, I swear, I went like this:

"Whut?"

There are fifty? I can only think of about... three.

And you know good and damn well, if you've ever read even one of my posts, what I'm about to do.

I'm reading them as I go, and obviously for the sake of time and space I'm only going to pick the ones that make me laugh the most. But I can't imagine anyone actually doing at least 48 of these.

Go braless and wear a silk or combed-cotton tee—it'll feel amazing brushing against your skin all day

So, Cosmo, you're suggesting I choose the from two thinnest materials known to man and then go out - "all day", it says - without a bra. Good idea, thank you.

When you're lounging together on the couch reading or watching TV, guide his hand inside your bra and have him lightly scratch your breasts with his fingertips.

Well, then what am *I* supposed to scratch?

Clasp your hands behind your back and pull them away from your body, slowly rotating to the left and right to give the twins a nice stretch.

Stretch? Why, are they about to do yoga? So, boobaerobics, you say. Interesting.

Overheated at the beach? Slip an ice cube out of your drink, and glide it over your cleavage.

At the BEACH? NO!! Sorry, but I have a long-standing rule about not playing with ice and body parts in public. Call me a prude if you must. (Who does that outside of a Sex and the City movie?!)

Dare him to unhook your bra without using his hands.

Right. Most of them can't even do it WITH their hands. But yeah, go ahead and try this one. Report back in 4 hours.

Humid summer weather can trigger boob sweat and clog your girls' pores. Give yourself an exfoliating breast facial.

Now... this one isn't a half bad idea. The only reason I'm including it is to highlight the stupidity of the next one...

When you want to go purse-free, stick your ID and credit card in your cleavage.

I know people do this, I'm not particularly opposed to it. I don't do it because... well I can't. But the fact of the matter is they've just been so kind as to point out my boob-sweat, yet they're telling me to hide stuff in there. Great idea*.

*actually, it's a great idea for people who always want you to hold their stuff for them... "Could you please hang on to my phone, keys, wallet, cigarettes, sunglasses, extra beer cozy, flashlight, jumper cables, folding chair and 4 lighters?"... "No problem. They might be a little moist when you get them back..."

When you're feeling sore around your period, wrap a refrigerated raw lettuce leaf around each breast and hold it there until it wilts

WHAT?!?!

"Look, honey, my breasts can spoil food! Hey, wait, where you going...?"

Re-create a much comfier version of Madonna's infamous cone bra in the bubble bath.

9 out of 10 of you will admit to doing this, and the 10th one is a liar. Don't even...

Draw an attention-grabbing circle around your nipples using rhinestones and body glue for a special night in.

You lost me at "glue". Bedazzle your boobies? Try again, Cosmo.

Put temporary tattoos of his name around your nipples, and give him a peek when you bend forward in an undone button-up.

His name has 3 letters. I don't have that much room. Thanks for depressing me, Cosmo.

Work silicone bra inserts in a tank top for a day, and keep a tally of all the men who stare at your cleavage.

Anyone else see the same flaw that I see in this one? (god I hope so)

Prop up a mirror next to your bed, lie down on your back with your top half hanging off, and marvel at just how awesome your boobs look from a whole new angle.

I've owned them for years, Cosmo. Pretty much can identify them from all the angles.

For touchable tatas, use this do-it-yourself mask: Mix two egg yolks (a natural skin softener) with one cup of beer. Dab the mix on your breasts, and rinse after 20 minutes.

...your skin will be soft, but you'll smell like a beer-omelette.

Wait a minute... beer-omelette... um... hang on, I'll be right back. O.o

In all seriousness, I don't condone wasting beer, but for the opposite sex what you have here is a nice beer / boob combo, so I might have to call this one a draw.

And finally:

Make a donation to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation in honor of your boobs.

Now THIS one, I have done, and will continue to do. Finally they came up with a good one.

Save Second Base.

http://www.journeytothecure.com/

Here is the original article just to prove that I didn't just make all that up, as well as for your own facepalming pleasure...

http://www.cosmopolitan.com/advice/tips/things-to-do-with-breasts

"From my big beautiful warlock brain..."

I could hold back no longer. The time has come.


The time for... The Charlie Blog.


I could have done this 2 months ago, when he went batshit, but no... it became clear pretty quickly that it wasn't going to be a one-time episode of batshit. It was going to last awhile, so I wanted to have as much of the information as possible before proceeding. We haven't really heard much from Charlie over the years that wasn't scripted. Turns out, he was saving up all his batshit for one grand Mount Saint Helens episode of Super Batshit.

Of course, too many people either were never interested or are now burned out on The Charlie Show. But screw that, this is MY show now. :-P

But what to call it? After... what? A month or two? ...of the some of the most insane quotes you'll ever hear in your life... which one is a fitting enough title for my piece?


Among the contenders were...


"Duh. Winning." ~ The obvious choice. I love it, but it's everywhere now, and worn way thin.


"Boom, crush. Night, losers. Winning, duh." ~ Holds the core idea with just a bit more flair. Boom.


"I don't have time for their judgment and their stupidity and you know they lay down with their ugly wives in front of their ugly children and look at their loser lives and then they look at me and they say, 'I can't process it' well, no, you never will stop trying, just sit back and enjoy the show. You know?" ~ Sorry, Charlie (Baaahaahaaa!). Good, but way too long.


"I have defeated this earthworm with my words. Imagine what I would have done with my fire breathing fists." ~ This one intrigues me. He managed to get "earthworm" and "fire breathing fists" right into the same musing.


"I'm not wearing a golden sombrero." ~ We might have a winning winner, here. It makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. And I like that.



"I'm an F-18, bro. And I will destroy you in the air. I will deploy my ordinance to the ground." ~ What happened to the earthworm?


Nope. No good. Need a warlock reference. Not complete without a good warlock reference. And so there we have it.


Ahhh, Charlie. Where to begin? At the beginning, yes, but... which beginning?


I think I shall go the Pulp Fiction route, start in the middle, and work my out to each end. Royale with Cheese, anyone?


When the whole "Sheen Drama"... wait... which Sheen Drama? Well, the most recent one. Wait... which most recent one? I think I'll start with the weekend hooker bender in Las Vegas 2 months ago. So when the whole Sheen Drama began about 2 months ago, it made the news with an alleged report that the cast and crew of Two and a Half Men weren't for sure if he was going to report to the set after being holed up all weekend long in Las Vegas on a pretty serious durg, booze and hooker bender ("Hooker Bender"... you guessed it! Band name!). I remember reading that particular story on TMZ... (Don't navigate away! Stay here! Just right-click and open it in a new tab :-P )


(I'm not usually much about following all the celeb gossip, but I have to admit, when there's a good story going, TMZ certainly makes it interesting...)


Later came the stories of more partying and eventually hospitalization. Despite the jokes I have made and will absolutely continue to make, I don't find those things funny. I don't know him, and it may be a case where he needs a great deal of help, and in that instance, I hope for nothing but good health and recovery for him.


For the moment, however, Chuckie seems to be enjoying this ride and has taken the jokes made at him and embraced them, loved them (violently) and took ownership of them (all the way to the bank).


Make zero mistake... I sincerely laugh WITH him, not AT him.


When Warner Brothers/CBS put Two and a Half Men on indefinite hiatus, things got interesting. A now-famous radio show call-in rant to the Alex Jones Show followed by an open letter from Sheen posted on TMZ opened the floodgate to a parade of "What The Fuck?" that made Lindsay Lohan look like Rainbrow Brite.


We all watched in disbelief. Yeah, it was believable... we know he's been in a kerfuffle or two in his day, no surprise there. But this was a whole new amazing level of kerfuff.


The thing that, in my humbly-bumbly opinion, made it seem more bizarre than it probably was, was that much of this was coming out in print. You lose tone and context that way.


So when one reads a printed piece quoting Charlie Sheen's "rants" about fire breathing fists, earthworms, octagons, "Chaim Levine" and tiger blood... one is likely to deduce that Mr. Estevez has gone full-tilt mental.


It wasn't until he started showing up on every single talk show that would have him, and I watched and listened, that I realized that when you put those things back into context and apply his normal humor and smartassical (it's a word!) tone, you have Charlie doing what Charlie has pretty much always done... talking like a self-involved, smarmy bad boy.


Granted, the arrogance is still a bit much, but the tiger blood and the bitchin' rock star from Mars and all the other seemingly insane ramblings are really just a guy sitting there being an incredibly epic smartass.


Right around the time of his appearance on 20/20, I described the situation to a couple of people as the train wreck that just keeps rolling over and over, and just when you think the train is going to stop, it smashes into about 20 more things.


For my official stance, I think it's pretty sad and unfortunate that the whole cast and crew of Two and a Half Men have ended up without a job, at least for the time being, due to his behavior and subsequent mouthing-off. I can appreciate his statements about fighting for those people to be paid, et cetera, but fact is fact... he kinda started the whole thing. The execs took action. Would any workplace tolerate such behavior from an employee? Not likely, my friends. They did what they felt they needed to do.


In return, Charlie is doing what he feels he needs to do.


At the end of the day, that's all it really is.


The fact that he's doing it so publicly, I believe, it what has people so bug-eyed about the whole business.


Me, I'm doing what Chuck-o told me to do - "enjoy the ride" he said. I do realize that at this point, it's been in the news just a bit much, and there are much bigger and far more important issues going on at the moment with the earthquakes and tsunamis rocking Japan all over the map, and now the nuclear crisis.


But still, it's given me a lot of entertainment. The endless jokes and parodies have been enough entertainment for the rest of the year.


One of my favorites was a tweet from John Stamos on February 25th:


"contrary to the rumors, i am not replacing charlie sheen on two and half men. however, martin sheen has asked me to be his son."


My other favorite thing was Jimmy Fallon's parody:







Unfortunately, not everyone is enjoying Charlie's adventure quite as much. As I've come to learn, a certain orange, fuzzy inhabitant of the Hundred Acre Wood (no, I don't mean Snooki) is a few of bright shades of pissed off...

Additionally, a certain professional golfer feels he's had enough bad press in the last year and is ready to take action should Mr. Sheen choose not to cease and desist about his feline plasma...

But you have to admit, it's been an interesting ride. Mr. Sheen, formerly Carlos Estevez, has been acting since the age of 9, but most of us became aware of him in the mid-80s, through such films as Red Dawn or Lucas.


Personally, I first saw him in the role for he which he was denied an Oscar nod - the role of "Boy In Police Station" in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. And I will certainly admit, I would not have kicked Mr. Estevez out of bed for eating crackers back in the day...

Ooh la la... WINNING, indeed.


Ok, Tiger Beat moment over. And you know what, stroll down memory lane over too...

What was I thinking... we don't need a career recap. It's all moot. Ferris Bueller, blah blah, Wall Street, Blah bitty blah blah, Hot Shots, blah bitty bitty blah blah BLAH. Nothing he's done can possibly stand up to his current starring role in "Charlie's Whirlwind of Whatthefuckery". I'm starting an immediate movement to get this guy as next year's Academy Award host.

I've decided that, whatever we think of him and his behavior of late... we have to be honest with ourselves here... he is truly living the dream... the dream of being able to walk around all day, every day, saying WHAT THE HELL EVER YOU WANT to whomever you want, (so much so that you even lose your job doing it) and (STILL!) making a crapload of MONEY doing it! He's about to make 7 million dollars for doing just one month of live shows. Just Charlie in a chair on a stage for 90 minutes ranting about tiger blood and octagons. Let's look at this! $40 to $80 a head. 7 MILLION DOLLARS in a month. For sitting in a chair being a mental patient.

Batshit as he may be, the guy is a friggin' genius!

(hang on... wasn't that Clinton's campaign slogan?)

(if it wasn't, it should have been)

With this blog still in draft status, the tides have turned yet again, and I'm now reading that Chuckie wandered into Jimmy Kimmel's show last night for a little smoochy smooch and now today may be asked back to Two and a Half Men.

The dream continues!

Not only can he wander about freely, saying whatever he wants to whomever he wants, lose his job doing it, go on to make 7 million dollars in one month for nothing more than sitting in a chair on a stage for 90 minutes ranting about weird b.s., randomly march onto Jimmy Kimmel's set and kiss him full on, he THEN gets to go BACK to the job that FIRED him (no doubt with a giant raise).

Dear Charlie Sheen... go play the lottery. Seriously.

Dear Jon Cryer... I'm sorry.

Dear Emilio Estevez... just curious, do you have tiger blood, also?

Dear Jimmy Kimmel... get tested.

There can't be an end to a blog about a story with no end. So, as the cast of Lamb Chop's Play Along would tell you (if Sherri Lewis were here to help them do it), this truly is The Song That Doesn't End.

Yes, it goes on and on, my friends...

Power Windows, Rack and Pinion Steering and California Emission!

No, I haven't won a trip to the Price Is Right (damn it!). But if Rod Roddy were alive, he could tell you all about... I still don't really know what rack & pinion steering is, but I did eventually come to figure out why they were always yelling about "California emission" on that program. I was six, give me a break. Anyway... Most of us have been through the new car buying process at least once. As a matter of fact, until now, I had only been through it once. My first two cars were... wow. One of them technically wasn't even mine, as in it was not in my name, but (long story short) I paid for the damn thing, so ... MINE! Many of you know about that one... The [sarcasm] WONDERFUL [/sarcasm] 1988 Lincoln Continental. That car was such a great car to drive, honestly... when it was running, at least. It was roomy and comfortable and looked great... but it was hit or miss whether its insidey parts were going to cooperate or not. That was the car with the transmission that randomly decided, all of its own accord, on a cold December evening while it was parked at the (old) Brickyard (with it's steep, SLANTED upper level parking lot), that the "park" feature was optional. You see where this is going? Came out of the mall and... "wait, I KNOW the car was parked right here..." Yep. Car done went and toddled off all by itself. Slipped out of park all by itself (bypassed 'reverse', somehow - I still can't figure that one out) and went forward.... down the hill. Found it in a tree. (ok, I found it wedged up against a tree, a very tiny tree... uh, make that a very tiny tree which was also the ONLY thing that prevented it from smashing down onto the roadway below... but "found it in a tree" is a lot funnier...) Then came my official first car (as in MY name on title)... my 1988 Oldsmobile Cutlass Calais. We've all had at least one "beater"... well this was mine. So was the Lincoln, but this one was visibly a beater. Honestly, I wish I had pictures of this one. The backstory here is that my grandpa bought it used sometime in the mid-90s. When he passed, my sister got it. When she no longer needed it, I got it. I believe I became the owner of this vehicular nightmare right around October of 2000. It ran for me without issue (except for heat that worked only if it felt like it) until exactly October of 2001, when it died a swift death, luckily right in front of my parents' house, and not somewhere highly inconvenient... like on 294 or ... on the way to Arizona. Yes, it's true. I was about to dosomething as stupid as trying to drive that bad boy 1800 miles across the country. It wouldn't have made it 10. The universe intervened and killed the car for me less than a week before I was going to traverse about 7 states with it. The universe likes to teach me lessons in stupidity, I find. Anyway, a blog like this wouldn't be complete if I didn't give a brief rundown of this car. It was a piece of crap, yes, but it was MY FIRST piece of crap, so I do hold a weirdly special place in my heart for it. It was gray and it had Bart Simpson hair. By that I mean all of the paint on the roof, ALL OF IT, was peeling up in large spikey-looking points at a pretty rapid pace. And the glove box... By the by... has anyone EVER used that compartment to store gloves? I haven't. I throw them on the back seat. So why don't they call it what it actually is... the "5 year-old insurance cards--Broken Tire Gauge--Random Air Freshener--Owners' Manual I've Never Looked At Except When I Couldn't Set the #!*#@ing Clock--Collection of Extra Starbucks Straws For When Those Shipdits Forget To Give Me One (and I Forget To Ask)--Working Tire Gauge--Pile Of Chipotle Napkins--Visor Mirror That Fell Off And I Never Fixed--Random Black Sharpie--Expired City Sticker From Last Year (Because I Might Need It!!)--Unmarked CD That Isn't Even Mine--Errant Happy Meal Toy--What the Hell Is This Plastic Thing?--And Pen That Doesn't Write-Box"? Anyway, the "glove" box wouldn't stay closed, but there was a light in there, so I had to find a way to keep the hatch closed so the light didn't kill my battery. (p.s. 10 years after the fact might be a bad time to think of this, but why didn't I just take the damn light bulb out?) So, the glove box was held shut with a slide bolt. Then there was the back of the front (drivers') seat... the little lever to adjust the recline was broken, (or missing... I'm not sure) so the back of the front seat was MacGyvered in place by a strategically bent wire coat hanger. I don't quite recall if it came to my sister that way, or if the jerry-rigging took place while in her possession, but it definitely arrived to me that way. And it worked too! That is, until the day I took it to the Emission Testing station. Now... I have a question for people who work at places like Emissions Testing, Jiffy Lube, Discount Tire, or anywhere else where you're not driving my car more than 5-10 feet... WHY IN HELL ARE YOU TOUCHING OR MOVING ANYTHING?!?!?! You're not driving across the STATE, you're pulling my car out of the bay and giving it back to me! It's not your hooptie, ok? You don't need to be reclining the seat in a car you're driving for 6 seconds! (he changed the radio station too... THE HELL?) I'll tell you, I've moved a lot of cars that weren't mine, and I've never had to move on in and make it comfortable for me when I was only going to be driving it 40 feet. So Emissions Testing Dope screws with my MacGyvered seat, and would you care to go ahead and guess what happens JUST as I pull out into traffic... back of the front seat falls down, will NOT stay up no matter what I do, and I have to drive all the way home with no back of the front seat. Now, you might not know this, but as it turns out, the back of the front seat is a pretty essential piece of equipment for an automobile. So, the gentle passing of my Bart Simpson MacGyvermobile brought about the necessary purchase of a new car... this would be my first off-the-lot brand new car. Also spinkled into this timeline was my 1997 Isuzu Rodeo, the only SUV I've ever had (and the only sunroof I ever had!). I didn't have it long, but still worth mentioning for comedic purposes... and the comedy involved here was that I had this one in Arizona and it had leather seats. *That* was amusing on the first "warm enough for shorts" day... because in Arizona, there is no "warm". You go from "it's chilly outside" one day straight to "it's hotter than hell" the next day. And if you're wearing shorts and you forget the car has leather seats, you're in for a treat when you head out to the store. Ever try to hover over the seat while you drive? I've always wanted a car with heated seats, but that was a little more than I bargained for. But coming back to my poor little '02 Nissan... in 9 years, I can name just two things wrong with it... the color of the exterior and the color of the interior. Apart from regretting both, my little 2002 Nissan was a very great car. Ran well, no major issues, etc. But I'll tell ya, if you ever look at buying a car that isn't black or gray, or something dark and/or common and blendable... think long and hard. It didn't take more than a week or two before I looked at it and thought "Why in god's name did I buy a bright-ass green car?" And later on, after a very greasy, barbecue flavored doggie bag leak in the back seat, part two of that regret came into play, "... with a beige interior?!" Never again, said I. Still, I miss my little car! I even had an official travel mascot who sat in the passenger door handle... a tiny stuffed giraffe named Allison Janney. Well, now I have a new car and a new mascot... a small green (in memory of my '02) rubber duckie named Irwin. For safety purposes, this is not the actual Irwin, but a reasonable facsimile. I've not yet decided whether to post a photo of the car... it can't be all that safe, posting photos of what you drive on the big scary interwebz... but it hardly makes sense to write about it and not show it either. Well, let's carry on see what plays out... Ahhhh, the joy of a shiny new car. This time I said NO oddball colors and NO freakin' beige interior. I purposely went online and searched the dealership's inventory, and found that though they had a decent number of the same model on the lot, only one had the interior I wanted. So when I got there and they (upon seeing a woman arrive) wanted to show me a bunch of flashy shiny things, I said "I want to see stock number 11399." Then guy tried to talk me in to the shiny red one with the sport features, which kind of offended me. End story, when I left that lot, I left it driving stock number 11399. Not my first rodeo, Yosemite. Let's not try that trick again. But oh the fun and joy... and fear!... of having a new car. "Don't touch it!" "Hmm... better park way down there where there are no other cars or people... that's ok, I'll walk the extra 14 blocks, I don't mind." "Ok, I don't mind you looking at it, but please don't look too much.... you're getting eye-prints on it!" "HEY! Watch the floormats, asshole!" (The papers that they put on the floor at the dealer are still in it. Yes, I'm serious. And I'm about to install $20.00 Target floormats on top of the $125.00 factory ones. No, I'm not kidding. Don't worry, they match.) I can't wait until anyone asks me, "Mind if I smoke?" I'm gonna say, "Mind making the rest of the payments?" Investigating the interior has been fun. I'm still finding things I didn't know about! Granted, I could just read the manual, but the "manual" turned out to be an entire encyclopedia set. I took off the plastic and about eight books fell out (and even a DVD!!). With my '02, it was 5 whole years before I even touched the owners' manual, and that was only because I had to find out how to set the clock (after pushing every button on the whole car and still not being able to do it). "I know it says 'trunk release', but you don't know, it might work. Maybe it's hidden, like the 'easter eggs' on dvds...?". In my defense, at the time I lived where they don't have Daylight Savings so I never had to touch the clock. Now I have the same problem. The clock is four minutes fast and it's driving me bugfuck. I'm not going to start pressing buttons, though. I've chosen to simply accept defeat and look it up. This one has a lot more buttons, so it will take twice as long not to be able to figure it out. (epilogue: I started writing this last week and since then I had to change the clock for Daylight Savings anyway... looked it up in the manual... and the manual LIED. The button that the manual told me to press - "menu" - did not do a damn thing. The button *I* pressed - "clock" - ended up being the winner - go figure) Speaking of buttons! In-steering radio, CD and iPod control! (I did NOT base my purchase choice on said features, but since they were already in there... woo hoo!) And what's this business where you stop the car and it turns your volume down? I assume this to be a safety feature of some type... I don't know what that's called but the car needs to learn that it only needs to turn the volume down for me when I'm looking for an address. Another challenge... The speedometer and tachometer on my '02 were in the opposite position, but I was used to it. Now that I have a vehicle where these items are back where they should be, I keep looking at the wrong one. "Holy hell, I'm going 2200 miles an hour!" I think most cars now have an iPod/MP3 port, so that's not much of a boasting point... but when I plugged the iPod in, my iPod screen showed the Nissan logo and that's when I realized that the car and the iPod werecommunicating on their own. I'm not sure I approve of my devices being in cahoots with my car of their own accord. That makes me a little nervous. What if the car confuses the iPod with something else, like a GPS device and takes me to Clarksville, or thinks I want to go walkin' in Memphis? (Thank god I didn't download "Goodnight Saigon"!) Uh oh. Remind me to delete "I Can't Drive 55"... I don't need the iPod screwing with my cruise control! You know what? That wasn't funny. Seriously. Ignore that. It also has one of those outside temperature indicators that I don't ever plan to bother looking at. It's a black car, so it's always going to think it's 126 degrees in the summer anyway. And in the winter... does it even matter? It should just say "Witch's Tit" with an up or down indicator. Oh, excuse me, it's not a black car... it is "Super Black", according to the manufacturer. And "Obsidian" (which isn't even usually black... durr) according to one of the 14,000 papers I got at the dealer. Either way, I guess it's better than "Mystic Green". Ok, so ya want to see it? Sure why not... in the last week, I've noticed that I am one of about 14.8 million people just in my own neighborhood with this particular year, make and model, and one of roughly 8.2 million with this year, make and model in this color. Y'all ain't gonna find me all that easily. Here she is: Yes, she's a 'she' and no, she doesn't have a name. It's bad enough I named the duck. This is the obligatory "new car the minute you get it home" photo. I recently found the "minute I got it home" photo of my '02. And I said the same thing I said a week after I got it - "why the f#@k did I buy a green car?" And that thought is the main reason you don't see the "Blue Onyx" version in that there photo. And finally... the last and best thing about her...

HOLD EVERYTHING!

How much do you love infomercials?

If you said you don't, you're either A) lying or B) not paying close enough attention.

Infomercials are better than any reality show, crime drama, sitcom, game show and anything else on television. Except anything on the History Channel. Or The Learning Channel. Ooooh! Or finding a nostalgic movie on TBS... well, ok, I lied, so infomercials aren't better than "anything", but they're right up there.

I don't even know where to begin with this. But you know how it goes... you're up unusually late, or unusually early, and there's nothing much on TV...

BUT WAIT!!

What's this? I don't even care, I want that!!

Isn't that the way goes? Depending on how much sleep you've been robbed of to be up at such an hour, those products seem like the best inventions ever. And if you've been deprived of more than 5 hours of sleep, these shows actually make you angry that you didn't have the idea for that damn thing first!!

But if you're doing what I usually do, then most of the time you're just sitting there in amazement at how stupid that item actually is. Mostly, it's stupid because you know good and damn well that if you had it, and you weren't kidding yourself, you'd use it once. Twice, maybe, but both uses would be within the first week of ownership.

Now, I've never bought anything from those infomercials. Technically. But unfortunately, those products at Walgreens and Target labeled "As Seen On TV" do count. So while I have never actually been compelled enough by one of those infomercials to whip out a credit card and pick up the phone, I can't say I haven't ever bought one of those products. And interestingly, I have actually been known to use a few of them. At present, there is exactly one infomercial product that I've had for years and still use...

The Turbie Twist!

I don't care what y'all think, those things are great.

The other one I would use, if I had one, is the Slap Chop. But really, this one doesn't count, because the only way I know that I would use that is that I already own the Pampered Chef version of it. If I didn't have that, and didn't know how awesome it is, I'd laugh at the Slap Chop.

I kind of wish I did have the Slap Chop, for no other reason than to use that promo photo here in this discourse.

Well, hell, it's MY blog, I'mma use it anyway.

Now of course, you can NOT talk about the Slap Chop, especially with the photo, without mentioning the ...

SHAM WOW!

This one, I actually wanted. But this, I also know, would have sat unused had I ever bought it. And I know this because I came into possession of a box of free knockoff Sham Wows (thanks Woot.com) at one point about 2 years ago. Shammiez, or Shameez or something or another... point being, the box remains unopened.

Wait a minute.

That Sham Wow guy looks a little familiar. I think I have seen him somewhere before.

Aside: Do you ever feel like you've won a small lottery when you flip channels and find the Sham Wow infomercial?

No? Just me? Alright then, moving on...


To fully appreciate the entertainment value in these works of commercial art, you must understand the outline of an infomercial.

Part One: "Tired of...?"

They haven't told you much about their product yet, if even mentioned it at all... first they must convince you that your current product(s) is (are) a huge inconvenience. This is where they show you a chore that you are frequently forced by law to perform, a chore which they are about to point out is worse than scraping barnacles off of the QE2 or polishing the Chrysler Building with a toothbrush. They going to show it to you via black and white footage of someone performing said chore with your current product, all the while describing to you everything that is sinfully wrong with the way you do it and the tragedies that will inevitably occur if you continue along this dangerous path of destruction.

Are you tired of of mopping your floor? All you're really doing is pushing filthy water, dirt and bacteria around your floor...

(insert mandatory cutaways of a dripping wet golden retriever the size of a Toyota racing through the kitchen leaving big mud spots all over, followed immediately by a toddler playing on that same filthy, disgusting tile floor).

Not only is this unsightly, but extremely unsafe! DCFS is going to come and take your children, pets and houseplants away!! If you want to be a better wife and mother...

Then you need...

By this point you have seen the black and white footage of a bedraggled, frustrated lady with a rope mop or a squeeze mop (if you're lucky, they'll show you both!), pushing dark, filthy water around the room, looking upset and confused about how to get all this dirty water up off of the floor.

These little interstitials are the best parts. Basically, they are implying that we're all stupid and incompetent. I couldn't possibly figure out how to get water off my floor, there MUST be a better way!!

Take for example, the famous infomercial for Nads. Ya know, the leg and bikini wax stuff. In trying to explain to you why applying green wax to your leg and ripping off all of your hair, skin, fat and muscle tissue in one move is phenomenally better idea than shaving with a razor, they show you a black and white (over)dramatization of a lady shaving with a razor. She rakes the razor up her leg and to show you that she has just cut herself, she JERKS her whole leg and winces in agony.

Ladies (and some of you men...), we have ALL experienced a razor cut to the leg. Has it ever, at any time, been THAT dramatic?

If you're shaving your legs and you become like that lady in the black and white 'before' clip, then I declare you too retarded to ever hold so much as a baby pacifier, never mind a Venus Embrace. I mean, come on! The absolute worst razor cut I have ever had, I didn't even know happened until 20 minutes later when noticed that I was bleeding onto my flip-flop, for crying out loud. And even the ones you do feel are nothing. Now, keep in mind that this comes to you from the biggest whiner complainer (not to mention klutz) with no tolerance for pain that you've ever met. If even I can keep from performing accidental surgery on my leg with a Lady Gillette, I'm pretty sure the rest of you are safe.

Now, for all of you lazy chefs out there, there are no less than 44,826 kitchen gadgets and gizmos for sale on television to make your life easier.

Don't want to bother putting your grub in the oven, in a crock pot or in a frying pan? No time for preparing a meal?

You need the

It's the NuWave Infrared Oven! That's right I said INFRARED OVEN!!

It's true!! Now the very same technology used for remote controls, night vision goggles and de-icing airplanes is available RIGHT IN YOUR KITCHEN!!

One of the worst things in this particular commercial are the "satisfied consumers" that they have talking about the NuWave Oven. One of them was a Chef!! A chef! And it showed said chef in the kitchen of his restaurant, cooking food in this contraption.

This shows you just how dumb they believe we are. A chef is not going to be in a restaurant kitchen cooking up your Beef with Béarnaise Sauce with a glorified Easy Bake oven. And if he is, I'm definitely not eating at that restaurant.

Bullshit sales pitch aside, if you really dissect these kitchen gizmo commercials, they're about the best entertainment you can find. The black and white cutaways in this specific brand of culinary advertising are the best of the bunch (be careful, sometimes they slip one in that's in color just to mess with you). You are shown a multitude of problems experienced by people who don't own the gizmo in question, but you're guaranteed to see the following two, at minimum.

1) The Sloppy Cook. This is the person who can't handle a spaghetti dinner without having it all over the walls and tries to boil up a 12 pound ham in a 1 quart saucepot.

2) Crowded Cabinet Lady. You know her. She's the one who opens her kitchen cabinet and an avalanche of blenders, choppers, slicers, dicers, toasters, dehydrators, mixers and George Foreman Grills (and remind me to circle back to the subject of THIS piece of shit) comes crashing down on her.

They want to show you that you NEED this item so you can avoid all of the peril that you are most sure to encounter without it... just like the Nads people.

But the kitchen gizmo people are pulling a magic trick on you like you wouldn't believe.

This is the next part of the infomercial outline...

Part Two: Hook, Line and Sinker

The various perks and benefits to get you to call RIGHT NOW and order the thing. The tactic they use is, of course, the most obvious way to get you to buy something, by making you an "offer you can't refuse"... but there's a hole in this the size of Jupiter that I've never heard or seen anyone even mention before. I hope I'm the first person to notice it! I've always wanted to be the first to expose a fraud or an injustice! Someone always beats me to it.

But here it is, and hopefully you heard it here first. Go back to Crowded Cabinet Lady. All this shit falls out of her cabinet because she has no room for her 226 different gadgets, and all of her problems would be solved if she had just the ONE gadget that they're trying to sell you, right?

Right!

And how to they reel you into buying their one gadget? You know the answer... say it with me now....

They offer you... MORE GADGETS!

LOOK!!

Seems that when you order this Easy Bake Oven for Grownups, you also get a Party Mixer, a NuWave Twister and a Pizza Kit!!

Hot damn!!

BUT HOLD EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!

If you call in the next 30 minutes, they will send you a SECOND NuWAVE OVEN!

So, on to the question I ask every time... What in hell for?!

They've just finished telling me how unacceptable it is that everything but the Luftwaffe flies out of the cabinet every time I open the door, and I should have their ONE all-purpose gizmo to avoid such conditions. So they now want to send me TWO of their gizmo, plus additional bonus gizmos. Their solution to freeing up space in my cabinet is to send me more shit?

I was really let down by that. The exuberance with which the guy yelled "HOLD EVERYTHING" had my hopes way up high, and all he offered me was a second NuWave Oven. And not only that, then the bastard told me I had to pay separate shipping on a 2nd oven that I didn't even want to begin with. Another magic trick!

I wish I could write about every ridiculous product, but it would have to be a running series, like "Anatomy of a Crappy Song" (which is long overdue for another installment, I think...). There are just too darn many craptastic infomercials and stupid products. Who is honestly buying this stuff?

I want to meet the individual that paid $12. 95 for the Lint Wizard Pro. ("Pro"?) And I want to tell that person to run down to FedEx Kinkos and grab a pile of those sticky-backed airbill pouches. They work 500 times better than that befrigged Lint Wizard, I guarandamntee you that. Oh... 'scuse me... Lint Wizard Pro.


I also want to meet the Special Ed who bought this one:

*blink* *stare*

"Tired of making a complete mess and burning yourself when making pasta?"

I'm just going to come out and say it.... first, if you are burning yourself and making a 'complete mess' while making pasta often enough to become tired of doing so, you need to be locked up, end of story. Second, if you are that lazy, or that much of a derp that you need a special pasta gizmo to help you make pasta, you again, have no business in or near a kitchen.

Step 1) Fill pot with water.
Step 2) Place pot on range and turn burner on. Preferably on high.
Step 3) Boil the god dang water.
Step 4) Insert pasta

Almost as ridiculous as all the kitchen accessories... the clothing, Oh my god. "Pajama Jeans" (dude, what?), the "Ah Bra", the "Booty Pop" (go look that one up yourself, I'm not even getting into it, and I do mean that literally), the "Slim T", and my favorite, "The Perfect Button"

"This set of buttons let you extend the size and life of your favorite pants for years. Tired of not being able to fit into those jeans you've had for more than five years? Don't worry just attach the perfect fit button that matches your button color and increase the waist size of the pants."

Um. If you haven't been able to fit into them in five years, a new button is not going to fix that.

And just to show you that you really can buy ANYTHING "as seen on TV"...

How come he's $0.00? Ohhhhh wait. I bet I know. O.o Anyway...

I clicked "add to cart" just to see what would happen!!

My Billy Mays will arrive within 14 business days, and I also received a second Billy Mays free. All I had to do was pay separate shipping.

Ok, ok.... this is really what happened when I clicked add to cart... I was taken to this page...

New arrivals? Shouldn't this be on the clearance tab?

*crickets*

I know. That was.... um... yeah.

I'll leave you with a filthy secret, just to show I can take it as much as I can dish it.

*inhale* *exhale*

Yes, I own.... the Scunci Steamer. http://www.scunci-steam-cleaner.com/

And honestly, I wish I would have waited for the Shark Steamer because I would have gotten the steam mop thingy free with my purchase!! Now it's its own entity and no longer comes with the Shark Steamer!