Results tagged “what were they thinking?” from Overlooked
The other day I was browsing through the website for Toomey's, a novelty underwear store, when I came across something that I'd vaguely heard about, but never actually seen: the "panty cap".
Panty Cap
You may ask yourself, "What use have I for such a backwards unmentionable?" I asked myself the same question, and have since been wondering why such a cap is necessary. Of course, as promised, KGB had the answer (and I didn't even have to text them).
Through the brain fart commercials, I have noticed that an increasing number of people have been suffering from "involuntary releases of ignorance" (as KGB terms it). This recent phenomenon of not knowing an answer to a question has sent the world into a panic, and because we have inexplicably forgotten that we can turn to Google, iPhones, or even other more knowledgeable people (like teachers), these brain farts are moving forward with their destruction. By the time I reached the following commercial, I began to see the validity of these strange-looking panty caps, because I can only conclude that the next step after college-level brain farting is nothing short of leakage.
Until KGB can rush to restore you from your stupefaction, please wear your panty cap at all times. I cannot imagine what it would be like if every time we needed an answer, we began to leak ignorance into the street. It would be chaos.
The number one reason for the creation of the Zaky (the disembodied hand pillows pictured below) is really touching. This reason, described by the inventor on the official website, goes exactly like this: "Zachary was born weighing less than 2 lbs. His mom wished she could cut off her hand to leave her loving touch, scent, warmth, and protection with him, so she invented the Zaky". Wow, what dedication! Dedication or delusion, you take your pick, since cutting off your hand would help your premature baby's health by about a none-shot.
Prior to creating the current list, I did consider writing 10 things I liked about the Zaky; unfortunately, I got stuck after "plushy exterior", and could not go any farther. So we're just going to have to stick with the original theme:
10 Things I Hate About The Zaky
1. It violates The Addams Family copyrights. How? By copying the character makeup of Gomez's close friend, "Thing" (and I'm not entirely sure the whole hand design isn't poking fun at Things' bodiless handicap...not cool, Zaky, not cool).
2. There will be confusion between human hands and mommy simulating baby pillows. Although this confusion may not inhibit the child's early years, it will cause a slew of issues throughout adulthood. These issues include (but are not limited to): suckling your bosses handshake and offering pillowcases as gloves.
3. Why Mommy, what big hands you have! I am baffled by the design of the Zaky. It is supposed to simulate a parent's hand, but I do not know any person whose hands are the size of a human baby. The Zaky looks like an allergic hand with a bee sting.
4. It makes parents less involved. This is only beneficial to the child if the parent is a pushy stage mom, or Britney Spears.
5. It has hand fetish written all over it. Like strange, want to suck your (preferably fuzzy!) hands, fetish. Good thing the Zaky is a hand and not a foot, as if we needed more foot fetishes in the world.
6. It makes children dependent. I doubt it is good for the child's mental health to have a warm hand on his bum 24/7. I mean, what is going to happen when the kid reaches school age? Will he still need to be reassured by this warm hand? What about when he is an adult? Will he make his wife stick her hand up his bum so that he can sleep comfortably?
7. A child who uses the Zaky will grow up to want a marital relationship with the Snuggie. This is obviously problematic.
8. It will mold your newborn's impressionable head... into a hand-print.
9. It is a whole mountain's worth of creepy. Just look at those hands, and tell me you won't have nightmares about them tonight. The Zaky deserves its own B-Movie.
10. It ensures that your child will always enjoy the scent, warmth, and protection... of the padded walls and sugar free jello in a psychiatric ward.
No good can come of this.
I have recently come across a few "über-cool" phones that can only be described as the unfortunate looking love-children of a telegraph and--depending upon the physiognomy--a meat product, a handgun, or something resembling Pokémon. I was lucky to have found these phones while browsing around the web world. I say lucky because, after becoming more acquainted with their awesomeness, I can now predict the next biggest fads brought on by a Jason Reitman movie.
My predictions go as follows:
1. Cell Phone Headsets
This is the perfect cell phone appendage for people who want to slowly acclimate to the present state in which we all live. It has the portability of a cell phone, but yet it is fully equipped with all the inconveniences of both cords and stupidly large receivers. Zack Morris, eat your heart out.
2. The Gun Cell Phone
Who wouldn't want a realistic-looking gun shaped cell phone? People who want to avoid penitentiary shower hour, that's who.
3. The Toilet Phone Caddy
With this item I may be straying a bit from the original topic, because it is not exactly a phone. However, if your phone is not yet house-broken--and you wish to avoid accidents when you go into the other room to check your email--then this might be the best thing that ever happened to you.
4. The Wearable Phone
I am not quite sure what the point of this invention is supposed to be. Aside from eliminating that burdensome 5 ounces of phone weight, it doesn't do anything useful. You still have to bring your hand to your ear--as with a normal phone--but now you look like a dufus, and will henceforth be spending your afternoons getting swirlies in the life-sized version of item #3.
5. The Turkey Dinner Phone
If the hamburger phone is the equivalent of a Big Mac, then I guess this is the equivalent of a--more eloquent--super-sized meal?
6. The Invisible Phone
I, for one, love losing my cell phone. That is why I was enthused to come across this transparent cell phone model. If you're anything like me, right now you are marveling at the fact you did not think of this yourself, and wondering exactly where you can get the one thing that will fulfill your inherent need to make life more difficult: the transparent cell phone.
And in the spirit of saving the best (and creepiest) for last....
7. The Phone Implant
This is a phone concept that--according to the article where I came across it--has been regarded, by university scientists, as the next step in phone technology. I seriously hope this remains a theory...forever.
I wonder if Jason Reitman has stock in Spencer's Gifts? Or more importantly, if he can do for these phones what he did for the illustrious transmitting meat featured in Juno?
This might immediately expose me as an outsider to the world of paintballing, for the life of me, I cannot understand why someone would spend upwards of $100 on these horrifying things known as "ghillie suits." In the spirit of being completely slack-jawed and terrified, I would simply like to present...
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Misled, misled, misled
Asian guys, let's face it: Adam Quan is not a white woman. Adam Quan will never be a white woman. Why on earth would you shell out nearly 30 dollars on his advice on how to date a white woman? Sure, sure, he might think he's all studly and conquering, but asking one of your own for tips on landing a white chick is about as useful as asking a mime about trapeze technique. To date a white woman, you have to think like one.
Therefore, with this intent, I, a bona fide white woman, offer tips on nabbing yourself that white filly you've got your eye on. Follow these simple steps, and soon you'll be fighting them off tooth and nail.
Even the whitest women in the world will be powerless to your advances
1. Watch Gossip Girl. A LOT of it.
2. Go vegan.
3. Attend readings by David Sedaris or Sarah Vowell.
4. Surprise her with a cell phone covered in Swarovski crystals. Just because she claims to hate Paris Hilton (that slut!) doesn't mean that she secretly doesn't want to live like an heiress.
5. Bake cupcakes. Any kind will do, but if you really want to wow her, try red velvet.
6. Three words: Sephora Gift Card.
7. Take her to dim sum. There's a good chance she'll end up being the only white person there--how novel!
8. Begin sentences with "In my culture" wherever possible. Absolutely guaranteed to make her swoon.
Good luck! Not that you'll need it, of course.
Roadbag: The Power of You!
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”.
I won more than the game that night.
I'm sitting here now, in my changing room. I can hear the audience. They're restless. They're impatient to see the greatest Marlene Dietrich impersonator that ever graced the stages of Off-Broadway. It seems so long ago, that night that changed my life forever.
It was a hot and sweaty summer night, the kind where everyone's drunk and cruising in their pickup just to stay cool. Drunk driving wasn't a problem there because if you passed out, you'd just wake up in the morning and walk into town to get gas.
I went into town with a couple of the farm hands, Red and Tex. Red was a hard man: he'd spent most of his life traveling from farmstead to farmstead digging out stumps and working over livestock. Tex was different. He looked as young for 42 as Rex looked old for it. Tex was supple and gay, like the first springtime shoot. He always had a joke in mind and always managed to get the ladies to dance. Tex was a tractor driver; he could maneuver a tractor like he was leading a town-lady at an Oklahoma two-step. We were all men. Bronzed, rugged, American.
We walked into the arcade with pockets full of change. We'd spend what was left of our foldin' money here after hitting up ole man Jenkins' hooch shack.
As soon as you walked in the smells hit you: the cigarette smoke heavy in the air, the smell of fried taters and hot dogs from the eat-shack, the stale sour sweat of the high score. Rex slapped me on the ass and pointed over to a new game - Big Rigs: Over the Road Racing.
There were a couple of Riverdale kids hanging around it, dressed in their varsity jackets and smelling of the latest French perfumes from the town drug store. We hated them as much as they hated us. We derided them for being in their cage of a town, and they looked down on our boundless wandering in the country.
One of them laughed out loud and gave the game a kick. "This thing sucks!" he yelled out, his freckled face turning red, looking for a dummy to tackle. He glanced over at me and signalled to his team mates. "Hey farm-boy! Here's a game for ya! Ahoo hoo hoo! Shyeeeeeeeet!" His friends joined in the merry-making and they huddled over by the Dance Dance Revolution console.
I gritted my teeth. Tex held my wrists and whispered in my ear in that soft country drawl, "It's all right sweetheart, don't let them get to you. Let's just have a good time". Rex slapped my ass again, "Let's check that game out, maybe Tex can get the high score on it?" He grinned and winked at Tex. "No, I'll do it, I'll show them," I walked proudly over to the game and sat down in the seat.
I dropped in two quarters and changed my life.
There were no boundaries, no limits. I could do anything I wanted. I was free. I didn't have to stay on the road, I could go wherever and through whatever I pleased. I could even go beyond the edges of the map. I drove for hours that night, and I was always a winner. That night changed my life forever. I was beyond the arcade, beyond the town, beyond the farm. I was beyond the world. There was nothing to stop me or slow me down. I had broken through.
My mother sobbed as she hugged me goodbye. My father shook my hand and told me to do the right thing. Rex held me long and hard. We swayed back and forth on that train platform before Tex tapped him on the shoulder. Tex pressed his wet cheek to mine and kissed it softly. I'll never forget how his mustache was wet with tears. He whispered the line from the game into my ear:
"You're Winner".
"Olivia, just sing the damn song and be done with it."
Some might say that reviewing the movie Xanadu is desperately passé and hardly topical. After all, the Broadway version has been out for nearly a year, and the pun "Xana-don't!" has been used approximately 785,176 times in the Western hemisphere alone. However, I just saw it for the first time last night, and what is news to me is unfortunately news to all of you.
Clearly, I did not grow up watching Xanadu; in fact, I was barely familiar with it until this winter, when my brother made a spur of the moment purchase of an Olivia Newton-John CD (it being an "oh-my-God-it's-so-bad-it's-AMAZING" kind of good). The movie's title track was an immediate standout as a must-add to my ever-growing karaoke repetoire. My brother, with visions of free drinks at karaoke bars, trophies, and Rhino Records compilation albums dancing in his head, quickly set about stage parenting: ensuring I learned the lyrics and making stylistic choices.
Since then, I have been waiting eagerly to see the movie, and finally, last night was the night. And, well...let's just say that 2 hours passed. Oh, and there was a CARTOON INTERLUDE. I've never smoked crack, but I like to imagine that this is how Whitney Houston feels on a daily basis.
The best way to express my reactions is to share the drinking game I made up (but please beware that this game is absolutely sure to land someone in the hospital and we accept absolutely no responsibility for your stupidity).
Players should take a drink each time:
- A light effect is used
- Michael Beck looks inappropriately confused
- You wonder why they couldn't have gotten Andy Gibb instead of Michael Beck
- You wonder why Gene Kelly chose to be in this film
As a final word, I have prepared a pop quiz. Complete the sentence:
This movie did for roller skates ...
a) what Battleship Potemkin did for montage.
b) what The Graduate did for the anti-hero.
c) what The Deer Hunter did for the Vietnam war.
d) what Nell did for linguists.
e) All of the above.
To whom it may concern:
I recently visited an H&M retail store in the Menlo Park Mall, in Edison, NJ. I had never purchased clothing from H&M before, but friends had been happy with their previous purchases there. On my first visit, I purchased a polo shirt, a short-sleeved shirt, two sweaters, and a three-pack of boxer briefs. It is this package of boxer-briefs I wish to write about today.
Upon returning home and opening up the packaging on the boxer briefs, I discovered that each pair was flyless. There was no marking upon the packaging for the boxer briefs indicating that a fly was not an integral part of the included underpants. I don't know how things are done in Europe, but here in the United States we don't just jump over fences - we use the gate.
As the underwear in question has already been worn, I would imagine an exchange would be out of the question. Therefore, as I see it, one of three options would bring me satisfaction:
- Refund my $14.95 for the purchase price of the boxer briefs.
- Send me three pair of boxer briefs that have flies.
- Send me a pair of scissors, so that I may install a fly myself.
I await your response. Correspondence may be sent to:
Stocky Dwarf
c/o ShopWiki
40 W. 20th St., 7th floor
New York, NY 10011
I thank you for your time.
- Stocky Dwarf
If only this clip only lasted longer than 14 seconds! Few remember that David Faustino (aka D L'il) had a failed rap career in the early 90's, but "Married... with Children" helped highlight this with their spoof of Grandmaster B. Never forget again!
I should have had a V-8!
Not much to say about this stock photo, other than that it has one of the most descriptive titles I've ever seen. For the low price of $399, you can download and add the high-resolution photo 'Middle-aged overweight Hispanic woman licking her lips and looking at a piece of fried chicken' to your site or article.
Imagine if all photos were titled this way. I would hate to see my photo, probably titled 'Twentysomething New York Jew licking his lips and looking at a piece of matzah'. Feel free to comment on what your overly descriptive photo title would be.
