The Horny Cat

Damn Dave.  Allergic to cats.   I really want one. 

So I can dress it up in an Inflatable Unicorn Hat.  Check it out!  It's stinkin' amazing. 

And it’s high quality.  I can tell.   "It holds via a four point elastic strap system."  That thing will stay put.

OMG.  I just had a scathingly brilliant idea. 

I should get one for my boss!  She has a cat.  

I just hope she doesn't confuse my generosity with sucking up.

But it could be risky.  What if her cat doesn't like it?  The cat on the box looks happy enough, but the one in the front looks a wee bit angry. 

Or humiliated.

Impossible to tell.   I decided to check out the reviews. 

There were lots of positive ones:

"I got this unicorn horn for Louis my cat. I went to clear out his litter box later that day. Instead of the usually smelly turds, I found miniature rainbows and stars!"

"Yes it's true! This unicorn horn is amazing. I only put it on my cat for special occasions. It's power is almost too much power for one cat to handle."

"This is an excellent purchase for anyone who has failed to find love amongst their own species. I bought 12."

Still, there were a couple of red flags:

"Please only use with declawed cats and a cat-muzzle."

"To our human staff member: Attempt to put this on our heads and we will shred your hands. We are cats, not stupid dogs. Hear us and obey." 

Then I saw this one.

"Found out if you fill it with water and freeze it, it's sharp enough to kill your spouse with. Allegedly."

I decided NOT to get an Inflatable Unicorn Hat for Cathy after reading this review:

"Three weeks after receiving this product, my cat was killed and eaten by a dog wearing an inflatable Voldemort costume. I want my money back."

Yeah, I like my job too much.

But then I read this:

"This is the coolest thing ever. Dreams do come true. It also works on dogs. Props to the originator of this product."

Kevin.  Come out from under the ping-pong table!

I have the most scathingly brilliant idea!

Shape us, face up!

To the untrained eye, I was just one of a myriad of shoppers meandering the aisles of WalMart.  But I was on a mission.  A mission of beauty.

I wanted to make my own Facial Fitness Pao Smile Trainer. 
 
The Facial Fitness Pao Smile Trainer on the Japan Trend shop was extraordinary, promising a better, younger smile.   But sadly, it was a bit way out of my blog budget, costing $271 plus shipping and handling.

OK.  It wasn't just about the money.  Truth be told,  I didn't want to look like one of these people when I was training my smile.

What if someone were to come to my door when I was in the midst of a smile training session?  I have a reputation to protect!

So I wandered the aisles looking for something I could use to make my own, more attractive, Facial Fitness Smile Trainer.

I was temporarily delayed at the Poop Play-Doh exhibit.  I seriously considered constructing my Facial Fitness Smile Trainer out of the Poo-Dough.  I examined the kit carefully.  Hmmmm.  It could work!  If I strung multiple turds together with straws.  Or dental floss.

But then I thought about putting it in my mouth. 

And decided to keep looking.
 
Sporting goods?  Nothing.  Automotive?  Zilch.  Infant socks?  Nada.

I finally hit pay dirt in the pet toy department.  Not only is my dog toy cute and shakeable, it squeaks! 

And it gives me quite a work out!

Now, the ordinary marketing genius would be satisfied with these results.  But I’m no ordinary Marketing genius.  

I found a way to make my Nerdling Facial Fitness Smile Trainer even more strenuous.

Throughout my product testing, Kevin looked on with envy, coveting my Nerdling Facial Fitness Smile Trainer.  I should have known he'd find a way to get his grubby little paws on it. 

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he was the one who took it. 

The evidence is overwhelming.

The Sexy Peach

There are some things that you just can't un-see.

Like peaches wearing panties.  I doubt I will ever look at a peach the same way again.

Lingerie clad peaches are very popular in China, where they sell for 498 yuan, or $81 in U.S. currency.  

That's way out of my blog budget. 

So, I decided to make my own panty clad peach.  I got a very nice peach at WalMart last Sunday.  Then I cruised the aisles looking for something I could use to make into panties for my peach. 

I hit pay dirt when I arrived at the infant sock section.   But I wasn't sure the pink sock would fit over my peach's butt.  

I looked around  to make sure nobody was watching.  The coast was clear.  I attempted to pull up the sock over the peach.  Damn if I didn't have the Kim Kardishian of peaches!

I moved up to toddler socks.  I saw a pretty lace pair, but they were stapled together at the top.  I held it up next to the peach looking back and forth from the sock to the peach when I heard, "Can I help you?" 

"No.  I don't think this is going to fit," I said. 

My peach and I walked away.  I decided I'd look for peach panties when I had more patience.

I forgot all about my peach lingerie project until today, when I noticed my peach sitting alone in the fruit bowl.  And apparently, one week in human life is the equivalent of 50 peach years.  My peach had aged significantly.

 
It not only had wrinkles; it had cellulite.

I'm sorry to say that my wrinkled up peach would look quite unattractive in sexy lingerie.

Which left me no choice:

Granny panties.

The Undercover Umbrella

It's about time!

I've tried unsuccessfully  for years to sneak my umbrella into places which prohibit umbrellas. 

And I'm always caught.  No matter where it is hidden.

Invariably, someone notices the tell-tale umbrella handle poking out of my bra.  Or I'll accidentally trip on the strap as the umbrella slips down the inside of my pant leg.

 "Hey!  Where do you think you're going with that umbrella?  Don't you know umbrellas are prohibited?"

It's humiliating.

Now, thanks to the crafty innovators at the Japan Trend Shop, I can discretely carry my umbrella disguised as an “adorable and remarkably life-like lettuce umbrella.”  The Vegetrabrella Lettuce Umbrella is answer to my prayers. 

I will surreptitiously sneak my lettuce umbrella wherever I wish, and nobody will be the wiser.   

I think they should get busy on a Vegetrawinebox.

Training Taffy

I shouldn't have been so surprised.  Mattel has had their share of crash and burn Barbie's over the years.

Who could forget Anorexic Slumber Party Barbie, complete with diet book and scale set at 110 pounds?  

Then there was Pregnant Midge.  Seriously?

And, of course, RollerBlade Barbie, whose roller blades could set fire to underwear doused with hairspray.

But I had great expectations for Barbie Potty Training Taffy.  I envisioned hours of fun feeding adorable Taffy and cleaning up his poop with Barbie's pink pooper-scooper.

In fact, I could hardly wait to start playing!  I fed Taffy and, sure enough he had to go potty.   (I could just tell.)   I put the 5 pieces of poo into the slot in his "back pack", pushed down his tail and out came 5 pieces of poo.  Just like magic!

So I picked up the poo with the pooper-scooper and was about to drop it into the blue plastic trash can when I noticed the omission. 

Barbie's trash can had no liner.

Euuuuuuuu!  I would never put poo into a trash can without a liner.  

Especially in August. 

In South Carolina.

So I made a Barbie Potty Training Taffy trash can liner. 

Now, any ordinary Marketing genius would have stopped there.  But I'm no ordinary Marketing Genius.

And, since imitation is a form of flattery, I kind of borrowed an idea.

Introducing the Barbie Potty Training Taffy PooTrap.

No Poops!  No Oops!

I know what you're thinking.  I couldn't agree more.

Mattel needs to put me on their payroll.