Infinite Fun!

With the holidays just around the corner I know many of you are looking for the perfect gifts for your loved ones. In the spirit of giving, I've decided to provide my readers with some unique gift ideas for the special people in your lives.

You're welcome.

Don't worry.  I won't be recommending any run-of-the-mill, mainstream items such as the Christopher Walken Chia Pet.  Your friends and family deserve something special.  Something more unique.  Something exceptional.  

And I've discovered the ideal gift for the beer drinker in the family: Mugen Beer, a.k.a. Infinite Beer.

(I must admit, when I first saw this photo of Mugen Beer, I was a bit confused. I thought it looked much more finite than infinite.) 

But that was before I understood the genius behind the product.

You see, Mugen Beer doesn't really contain any beer. It just sounds like it does!!!

According to the advertising:

-->"Nothing beats the feeling of coming home and cracking open a cold one. Recreate that feeling over and over, whenever you want, with Mugen Beer (Infinite Beer), the beer can that you can open forever!"

Wow! A beer can that you can open forever! Astounding. And it's only $32 (plus $16 shipping and handling).

Did I mention that it was developed by the same people who brought us the Beauty Voice Trainer?

Mugen Beer comes in 6 fun colors. I hope it's not too complicated to operate; the 3-page manual is written in Japanese.

What a phenomenal concept!  With Mugen Beer you can enjoy all the benefits of a nice cold beer, such as looking at the can, opening the can, and listening to the can being opened.

But why take my word for it?!  Here's how the Japanese advertise Mugen Beer:

Product Feature

#1:Pushhhhyu!! (fizzy sound come right after pull up cans)

Hey foks, there are more sounds including secret and none secret effects!

Try and feel "Yeah!" playing with our can opener keychains/ cell phone straps ; )

#2: Get a weird, stupid or funny even you hear

with cool sounds every 30 pulls!!

Think how much your loved one will enjoy getting a weird, stupid or funny even they hear cool sounds every 30 pulls!  (I know, easy for me to say.)

But they're leaving off 2 very important benefits of Mugen Beer:

1- No calories.

2- No hangovers.

The Poopsickle Experiment

The box was waiting for me when I returned from vacation. 

The red and white label said: Hazardous Materials. The shipping label provided additional detail: Compressed Gases. Flammable, NOS (Tetrafluorethane and Dimethylether).

Hallelujah! My Poop Freeze had finally arrived!

For those of you unaware of this exciting product, Poop Freeze Aerosol Freeze Spray is for people looking for a "clean, easy and affordable solution to nasty waste clean-up problems". Pet owners spray Poop Freeze on their pet's poop, freezing it, thus making it easier to pick up.

I was excited to test Poop Freeze, and see if it lived up to its brand promise (printed on the can): "Poop Happens- Just Freeze It!  Because it's our Dootie." 

I also wanted to see if Poop Freeze was more effective than hair spray.

The following instructions were on the back of the Poop Freeze can:

1. Shake 5 seconds

2. Lightly spray 5 seconds

3. Flip and Re-Spray

What?!! Am I the only one who sees a problem with these instructions?

Flip and Re-Spray?

Seriously.  I'm not making stinkin' pancakes. I'm picking up poop. Exactly how is step 3 supposed to make picking up poop easier?

But, doggone it. I'd invested $11.99 plus shipping and handling in this product. Plus, I'm probably being investigated by the Department of Homeland Security for purchasing hazardous materials over the internet. And most importantly, I promised my readers that I would test Poop Freeze.

I decided not to get hung up on a little poop flipping.  I would test Poop Freeze.

I took Kevin to the park.

Now, my apologies for the graphic nature of these photos. But this is a scientific experiment that had to be documented. With a little help from Kevin I had the opportunity to test Poop Freeze.

And guess what?

Poop Freeze froze poop.

And it was easier to pick up than poop at park temperature. The bag was a bit cold to the touch, but then again, it contained frozen poop. 

I know what you're thinking.  

Lou, how did the Poop Freeze compare to the hair spray?

I'm happy to report that the Poop Freeze was more effective than hair spray.

At least on my mall hair.

Fun with Hairspray

For only the second time in my life I purchased a can of hairspray.

I bought my first can about 5 months ago for my failed attempt at starting a fire with my Barbie Roller Blade’s roller blades. (http://notesfromanerdling.blogspot.com/2011/06/barbie-doll-experiment.html)

I have looked everywhere for that virgin can of hairspray. I looked in all the likely places: the bathrooms, Linda’s bedroom and my blog bag. That Barbie Doll Hairspray completely vanished! 

So I invested in a second can of hairspray.

You may wonder why I needed hairspray for only the second time in my life. It’s simple.

To spray on Kevin’s poop.

You see, I’ve discovered this product called Poop Freeze that makes cleaning up after your dog easier. 

Apparently, you spray Poop Freeze on the poop and it freezes it, making it easier to pick up.

I was intrigued by the concept of a product that makes cleaning up after your dog easier (although not nearly as easy - and innovative-  as a PooTrap). So I got to thinking about other products that could possibly accomplish that same goal.

Hairspray might.  

It  won’t freeze the poop, but it should stiffen it.

Becca’s dad suggested I try Freon or Liquid Nitrogen, but they’re too expensive for my blogging budget. So I gave in and ordered a can of Poop Freeze on Amazon.com. Once it arrives, I will be able to do a product comparison test: Poop Freeze vs. Hairspray.

But in the meantime, I decided to conduct another experiment with my new can of hairspray.

I wondered if I could make my hair as big as Mall Hair Girl’s. (http://notesfromanerdling.blogspot.com/2009/12/mall-hair-girl.html)

Close but no cigar.

It's Electric!

Some days blog topics just present themselves to me.   

Today is one of those days. 

Becca, Kevin and I went for a morning walk around the trails of Harbison Lake.  It was a beautiful morning and there were a lot of other walkers out and about.  (None were wearing bananas.) 

We were nearing the end of our walk when we saw her.

She was middle-aged and was about 50 yards ahead of us, walking sideways down the path in our direction.  Suddenly, she turned and began moving away from us.

"What the heck is that lady doing?" I asked Becca in confusion.

"The Hokey Pokey?" Becca suggested.

When the woman did a grape-vine and turned 90 degrees I started giggling.

For you to appreciate what happened next, I must disclose some very sensitive information about Becca.  She is not a dancer. Sure, she had to do that Viennese Waltz in The Secret Garden, and she only fell once on stage.  She also survived Cats relatively unscathed.  But I don't think she enjoyed dancing in either show.

And one time I dragged her to Body Jam and...Well, I must be honest here.  I love Becca dearly, but..I have to say it.  

Becca stunk at Body Jam.  She's lucky she didn't hurt herself!  Or me.

She just doesn't have my moves. 

Oh!  One more thing.  Becca does NOT share my affinity for So You Think You Can Dance.  Now, admittedly, I am a bit of a SYTYCD addict.  It's not unusual for me to watch some dances over and over again, getting completely wrapped up in emotion.  

In fact, that Travis Wall "Fix You" routine can still make me cry like a baby.  When I made Becca watch it, guess what.

SHE DIDN'T EVEN NEED A KLEENEX!

(In case you want a good cry, here's that dance: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xnguqsMQmg4 )

Let's just say Becca is not a connoisseur of dance, which makes what happened next on our walk even more startling. 

Becca was studying the woman and her unusual movements.  

"She's doing the electric slide," she concluded. 

That was exactly what the woman with I-Pod buds in her ears was doing.  And my good buddy Becca, the dancer don't-wanna-be, was the one to correctly analyze the steps and come up with the correct dance.   

She's a stinkin' Name That Dance genius!

As for me?  I just knew is that it wasn't Body Jam. Or tap.

My next challenge was passing the woman without peeing my pants.  (She wasn't making much forward progress, considering she was doing the Electric Slide down the sidewalk.) 

I somehow managed to remain composed.

Yes, I love it when blog topics just present themselves to me.  As I drove into my neighborhood I was greeted with another one.

Inspirational Art

Please don't think me arrogant when you read this blog. I realize it's a risk to toot my horn so much, but darn it, I can't help it. 

As I was surfing the nerdy corridors of the internet last night, I happened upon an undiscovered work of art that took my breath away.  It is the essence of artistic aspiration and it should be hanging in the Lourve- or at least in Michael's.  (Perhaps this posting will catapult the artist to fame and fortune.)

The painting is called "First Aid (Bandages)."

Not only is it aesthetically pleasing, it is truly motivational.

In fact, I was inspired by First Aid (Bandages) to learn first aid bandages.

But first I needed materials..i.e., first aid bandages, so I cut up an old cloth diaper into 2-inch strips and sewed the strips together.  

Next I needed a patient.  Dave was watching TV.

"Dave, can I practice my first aid bandages on you?  You look like you have a lower jaw injury."

"Go away"

"Linda, let me try and set your broken arm..."

"No."

"Kevin?"

He ran under the bed.

Dave suggested that I had a hole in my head.

I treated that injury but I needed to find a real patient to practice on. 

That's when I remembered my pet boulder.  He was a perfect.  He had a head injury.  Then he had an eye injury.  He even had a fracture of the jaw.

And he's not the least bit camera shy.

And thanks to my Pet Boulder, I have recognized yet one more of my many gifts. 


I'm a stinkin' expert at First Aid Bandages.  

Is there anything I can't do?

Rewarding Good Behavior

I have found the perfect companion product for the PooTrap. For those of you not familiar with the PooTrap, it is a mechanism that straps onto a dog to collect their poop, sort of like an inverse feed-bag. (see: No poops No oops! May 3, 2011 posting).

The main concern I have with this amazing innovation is that it could be a wee bit embarrassing to a dog (not to mention the owner).  Especially after the PooTrap has been filled. 

One of the PooTrap FAQs addresses this issue:

There's motivation and reward for the owner, in that she doesn't have to pick up dog poop.  But what's in it for the dog?  Where's the reward?

Leave it to the nerdling to come up with a scathingly brilliant idea that will motivate dogs to want to wear their PooTraps. 

I'm talking about the Rear Gear Butt Cover.

Once the PooTrap is filled, the owner can remove it, praise the dog, and adhere a Rear Gear Butt Cover in place of the PooTrap.

Talk about rewarding good behavior!

Now, the official Rear Gear Butt Covers come in many designs including a disco ball, air freshener, heart, flower, biohazard, smiley face, number one ribbon, sheriff's badge, dice, and cupcake.

Time out. Is it just me, or does anyone else find the concept of a cupcake butt cover unsettling?

At any rate, I decided to save the $5.00 plus postage and buy Kevin some Dollar Store Butt Covers, just to see how he liked them.

He didn't. 

In all honesty, I'm not sure he's got the right ass for one of these things. Way too much fur. 

You get the picture.

But guess what? Kevin has decided to re-purpose the Dollar Store Butt Covers.

Introducing the Dollar Store Butt Cover Necklace.

Apparently, there's more than one stinkin' marketing genius in the family.

Now we just need to get working on our Dollar Store Butt Cover Jewelry Line video.  Hope it's as good as this one:

The Head Shot

I felt like a contortionist in a scene from The Exorcist. The photographer made me turn my body down-stage with my shoulders and head turned up-stage. "Ouch!  This hurts!" I objected.

"Stop whining and tilt your head 37 degrees South East," the Nazi photographer demanded.

I've never been a fan of head shots. I suppose it all stemmed from years and years of horrible class pictures growing up. In 13 years of schooling, I never had a good one.

"Hey carrot top...nice picture," the boys would tease. 

It's even worse when you combine my lack of photgeneity (I made that word up) with my predisposition for passive aggressive bug-eye behavior. You see, when I get frustrated my eyes react.  Big time. 

I can't help it.  

My eyes expand in perfect correlation to my level of frustration.

You should have seen my drivers license photo taken on Good Friday in 1992 when the Milwaukee D.M.V. was closing at noon and the line wrapped around the room 3 times and the one woman unlucky enough to be working that morning kept ignoring me. 

I looked like Marty Feldman by the time she snapped the picture.

But on a positive note, it provided hours of entertainment at family gatherings over the next 4 years. "Hey Lou! Show Uncle Buck your license. I don't think he's seen it"

"Holy crap!" Buck said, in admiration.  "How'd you do that?"

Then there's that photo on my work ID. The security camera woman told me to step up to the line and smile. Click.

"Can I see it?" I asked as she pulled it up on her full screen. I took a look. "Oh, would you mind taking another one?"

Click. I look. "I'm sorry, would you take another one please? I don't like the way my eyes look."

Tsk. Click. I look. "One more?"

"Uh, Lou. This is how you look."

So, considering my lifetime of bad pictures, I shouldn't have been surprised when I opened the email from the photographer containing my head shot.

I screamed.

"I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD WRINKLES ON MY NECK!" Are you stinkin' kidding me?

But guess what! I just had a neck life. And a face tuck. And botox.

It's called Photo Shop. And that Nazi photographer is a stinkin' genius.

I just have one question.

Where was she when I was in 1st grade? 

I so could have used her.