Results tagged “investment opportunities” from Overlooked

So, you want to kill every last MoFo in the room? Well, I am here to show you the quickest and easiest way to do it. By giving you this information, I am also giving you top secret Philippine weaponry data, which you must guard carefully--lest the Philippine government discover that we, and everyone else on The Internet, know their secrets. The weapon that I am about to describe to you is superior to all other weapons in terms of killability, concealability, and stealth; it is the Unbreakable Umbrella.

The Unbreakable Umbrella

(Or as I may--affectionately--refer to it: The MoFo Slayer)

This water resistant killing device is worth every bit of the $179.95 you will pay for it. It will allow you to whack your enemy into a coma, and shield you while you're doing the whacking. Not to mention it will shield you on your way to the (soon to be) crime scene.

Do you fear that The MoFo Slayer is only useable during the rainy season? Well put that fear aside. I had similar doubts, and so devised a list of umbrella uses that span the seasons. Here is a sampler: In Autumn, Spring, and Summer, it is easy to shield oneself without suspicion; one can use the umbrella for rain, falling leaves, flowers, sunshine, and, in recent times, meatballs. For our whitest season, the Unbreakable weapon transforms into a snowbrella. Not plausible, you say? In the following video we demonstrate how to take care of anyone who questions the validity of this useage:

My Prediction: It's you, in the coat check room, with the umbrella stick.

There are a few things I need to get out right now so, unfortunately, this is going to be a drawn out rant; if you do not feel like attending my ranting party, please feel free to throw away your invitation and click the "x" button located on your right. Be sure to check back for a more agreeable blog post. Thank you.

First thing on the List of Things that Have Annoyed Me this Past Week: People who believe the opposite of a general consensus--out of ignorance--and argue about it heatedly. What I mean is someone who, for example, argues that a movie ticket is five dollars, has always been five dollars, and that the person working the ticket window is trying to rip him off by charging him ten dollars. Everyone knows a movie ticket has not been five dollars since 1985 (or earlier) so unless you are a child or a senior mister know-it-all, please stop being a douche. When someone argues about such ridiculous things, It may not be the person's fault--I suppose some people cannot help their overall lack of intelligence--but it really makes me want to throw a feral cat in his face.

Second thing on the List of Things that Have Annoyed Me This Week: People who take sarcasm seriously. Go trip on a piece of broken sidewalk.

Third thing on the List of Things that Have Annoyed Me this Week: The MTA. Yeah I know the MTA annoys everyone, but my commute is, on a good day, 1.5 hours. And when the bus schedule is inconsistent with the schedule that they tack onto the rusty bus stop pole, it makes life that much more difficult. Twice this week I sat there--like a fool--and waited thirty minutes for the two buses that never showed up to take me to my house. I ended up walking home. I worked from home the last half of last week in protest. That'll show them. Yeah. I hope they suffered revenue losses without my $23.25.

Maybe I should just hike over to work in one of these great new cars:

Of course I will be made fun of at first, but there are definitely benefits to riding in one of these things:

• These cars are battery charged and therefore environmentally friendly.
• They are cheap, and so they can be replaced easily when you break them (which you will).
• Because you break and replace, you do not have to concern yourself with car dealerships and repairmen.
• Also because of the above, the model you drive will always be in style.
• These cars are compact, and therefore you will have less trouble finding a parking spot.
• No gas costs, and no waiting for public transportation.

Wow, I think I am actually talking myself into this.

I just wanted to let everyone know that the next time you are driving down the highway and some jerk cuts you off, he may not be talking on the phone. No, now we have a completely new problem. Apparently, when the no cell phone rules for the road came out, some inventors had to go out and create something else to distract the men driving. Thank goodness this product is not made for women--I can now legitimately say we are better drivers.

Want to know what the product is? The Roadbag. Don’t know what it is? Well here is a hint; it is a small little bag that can be used to store liquids. It uses special chemicals to solidify the liquids into an odorless gel form so that it can be stored safely and out of sight.

Still don’t get it? Well, the original product was designed for fighter pilots so there would be no incidents in-flight when going after the enemy.

Ok, I’ll just tell you.

It is a bag for men to use the bathroom in while in the car. YES, THIS ACTUALLY EXISTS. Apparently using the rest stop bathrooms wasn’t good enough--now guys can drive continuously and just pee in a bag. So if you think some big shot businessperson is cutting you off because he is on the phone, think again. Instead, that guy is just using the “restroom”.

As we've said previously, you're nobody until you're honored on a commemorative plate or an iron-on heat transfer. This week in memorable commemorative items, we celebrate the lighter side of crime's seedy underbelly.

Sure, Pete Rose may be the Major League leader in hits, games played, at bats, and outs. More importantly, he's a gambling man: the kind of man we can all get behind, and the kind of man of which Kenny Rogers dreamed whilst crooning the classics.

Dishonored by allegations he bet on baseball games and then tried, convicted and imprisoned for tax evasion, Rose is truly the stuff of legends and is a welcome addition to the world of commemorative plates. Snap one up while you still can, and check out your local Christmas Tree Shop for additional plates in the series (including but not limited to The Spirit of John Gotti Regarding His Family From Above, A Michael Vick Halloween, and Backstage with JonBenet and the Ramseys).

Much like our dear hunk JRR Tolkien, I too have a crippling tea addiction. Though we're supplied with plenty of tea at work, I always keep a box of Twining's Irish Breakfast in my desk because office stock depletes quickly and I don't trust that there will always be an acceptable option. The last time we ran out of soy milk, my preferred flavoring accent, I started hyperventilating and crawled up into one of the heating ducts until the office manager shooed me out with a broom.

The other day, to enable both my tea addiction and my affinity for all things British, I was looking for the classic Brown Betty English teapot. Steeping tea in a mug just seems so very plebian, and I love nothing if not a great deal of pretension. I typed in my search on the ShopWiki main page, and imagine my complete surprise to find the product at right (minus my hackneyed censoring job) come up in my results: Betty Beauty Dye (possibly NSFW). Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that product is a dye specifically designed for maintaining your nether regions.

What started as a testament to the horrible power of addiction, thanks to the power of serendipity, turned out as one of the most magical searches I've ever done. I have this friend, let's call her Myrtle, but I can't count the number of times in a normal day I've - I mean she! SHE!! - wondered, "Am I as fancy as I could be today?" Poor Myrtle, something was just always missing; there was a tangible ennui that all the Jordache jeans and body glitter in the world couldn't cure.

Thankfully for Myrtle, my addiction led me to this fateful search. If it weren't for the fact that I mainline tea, I wouldn't know that Betty Beauty Dye not only exists, but also comes in a variety of colors. Including HOT PINK. My dear friend now has a skip in her step, a twinkle in her eye, and a betty to suit her every whim.

So the next time you're pouring yourself a piping hot cup of Earl Grey, ask yourself this: are you as fancy as you could be today? Is something missing for you too?

Dedicated to Myrtle, who dared to dream.

I walked down Main St. just past the library in the ancient capital of the NWO, Orange, Old New Jersey. I had just finished conducting business with a client. She had searched for decades for an authentic Dr. Henry Jones Kotobukiya figurine from early in the millenium. I had three (thanks to my connections at the Revered and Most Holy Council of Shopwiki). She paid handsomely for the figurine and after I had paid my business fees to the Beloved Council of Shopwiki, I made about 17,462.58 Yuan. Enough to finally get me a liter of gasoline to extend my life by another 3 years beyond capacity.

I rounded the corner to Lincoln Avenue when I heard shuffling in the dark alley behind the Post Office. I pointed my middle finger at the void and scanned with my SuperMega BlackBerry. The reading came back as two humans with 33% Methcrackoine content combined. At those levels they were probably just spammers or Myspace tweakers. I continued on, as I passed I heard them moving.

"Hey, how old are you?" one asked in a raspy rattle. Awww CRAP!!!! "What ethnicity would you say that you identify with the most?" the other one chimed in in perfect sequence. I started to run without looking back, I knew what they were.

"Would you like to take a quick survey? It will only take 2 minutes!" the raspy one yelled out, picking up his speed in pursuit.

"We just want to ask about your satisfaction level!" the other yelled.

Advertisers. The dregs of society. And these were the lowest of the low: Focus Groupies. In the year 2012 all advertising had been banned when extensive global research and the subsequent proofs from the knowledge base of the Alien Overlords showed that there were no direct correlations between sales and advertising. Most of them found quasi-validation as bloggers and "educationalists", but the majority slithered into the underworld with the Mole People or out into the vast wastelands of New North Canada and Minnekotia. Out there they formed large bands that roamed the countryside compiling databases and demographics info, sending Hunter/Seeker teams into civilization to update their files and mailing lists. "We would like to know what radio stations you listen to!" old Raspy asked again, hoping that I would stop just enough for them to water-board answers from me. I knew their game, after they had squeezed out all the useless information from me, they would drill out my brain to ensure that nobody else got the info and that there were no duplications in their system.

My training at the Revered Shopwiki Academy had only reached Simple Disarming and Completing the Sale techniques. I hadn't yet been given clearance in deadly hand to hand close quarters combat. I ran down an alley hoping to lose them, only to discover that it was a dead end. I turned around and pushed my back against the wall. I wasn't going down without a fight.

They stopped a few yards from me. Raspy pulled out a drill while his partner rolled back the sleeves of his pink Armani shirt. "We give you coupon at end of survey," Raspy wheezed out. His partner tittered and stared at my head with googley eyes.

Just then I heard glass breaking above me.

"That's: We WILL give you coupons at the end of this survey!" I heard an angry and fed up voice scream down. "TASTE MY PAIN!" A blur came crashing down on Raspy, crushing his body and ruining his wool three-piece suit and throwing his trendy retro style eyeglasses by my left foot. I saw a flash of steel and Raspy's friend flopped to the ground in two halves.

I looked at the hulking mass before me. It was mostly machine parts, but I could see the basic outline of a human form.

"They was gonna kill me..." I blubbered.

"They WERE going to kill you," it corrected me as it turned around and pointed a huge sword at my face. My eyes went from the tip of the blade, to the cybernetic arm, to the piercing eyes. I looked down and saw that it wore a name tag. Hello, my name is... "LENGLI" was scrawled in blood red.

"It's YOU..." I whispered in awe.

There are some things in life that just go well together: Oreo cookies and milk, Brad Pitt and Angeline Jolie, George Bush and low approval ratings. Let's add another something to that list: babies and cigarettes. How could something so wrong seem so right?

Studies have shown that most kids start smoking in an effort to seem older and more mature. This is true for newborns, who at times are desperate to have their parents stop babying them. It's hard to be taken seriously when you are only a few weeks old. Also, smoking helps keep the weight off. Many of the babies I've met have had the same complaint: "When will I lose this baby fat?" They see smoking as a way to shed those unwanted pounds.

You can get angry, but cigarette manufacturers have to get their money somehow. Sure, tobacco is literally a part of the US Capitol, but that doesn't mean the tobacco companies are having an easy time. According to the CDC, 400,000 Americans die from smoking related illnesses each year. That's 400,000 people who won't be buying your product anymore. What's the tobacco industry to do? Enter the baby.

Smart move. Profits have never been higher.