Multi-task while you Bask

You have to give the Japan Trend Shop props for their product design.  What's not to love about the Bathtable? 

It lets you muti-task in the tub!

But, is it just me, or is this advertisement is a wee bit lame?  Who is going to spend $201 (plus shipping and handling) on a Bathtable to read a book in the stinkin' bath tub? 

Being the Marketing genius that I am, I have come up with a few more compelling advertising concepts for the Bathtable.  

I should probably charge money for my ideas, but I'm feeling generous.  It is the holidays, after all.   

You're welcome, Japan Trend shop.

Folding socks while taking a bath.  Now that's luxury you can afford.  With Bathtable.

 Lake for work?  Make breakfast while you bathe!  

With Bathtable.

Spices out of order?  Don't Stress!  Take a bath!  

 With Bathtable.

Sew while you Sewk!  

 With Bathtable. 

Be like Beethoven.  Compose yourself.

With Bathtable. 

I know what you're thinking.  Why, Lou, are you being so modest?  Shouldn't you be nude? And wearing a bathing cap?

In response, the Japan Trend Shop  will have to use their collective imaginations here. 

I am a Marketing Genius.  

Not a porn star.

The Pillow Police

“I prefer that you don’t do that,” said the Bed Bath and Beyond guy. 

All I was trying to do was test drive a pillow.  On the floor. 

Because, guess what?  It’s impossible to tell how a pillow is going to work by resting your head on it.  While you’re standing up.

Because, guess what? 

I don’t sleep standing up.

That's OK, Mr. Bed Bath and Beyond Pillow Police Czar.  I really couldn’t tell how the pillow was going to work by laying on the floor, anyhow.  

Because, guess what?  

I don’t sleep on a stinkin’ floor.  

I sleep on a bed.

So fine, Mr. Bed Bath and Beyond Pillow Police Czar.  I will get off your rock hard floor!!!

I stood up, brushed the dust off my pants and carried the pillow out of the pillow department.

Into the bedding department.   

  

Shielding the Sun

You just can’t be too careful when it comes to the sun's harmful rays.  Especially when you’re a redhead.  Who lives in South Carolina.

And for those of you who think that my red hair comes from a bottle???   I have proof that it doesn't:

Well, didn't.

Of course, the photo also demonstrates my bowtieosia.   I’ve been fighting that disability for years.  Thank God I wasn’t born a Croatian mercenary in the 17^th century.  I’d have been in trouble.

Or a Fried Chicken magnate.

There goes my A.D.D. again.  I need to focus on the topic at hand, which is the most revolutionary new product I just found on the Japan Trend Shop website!  It is absolutely perfect for redheads living in South Carolina.

It's called the UV Cut Athlete Anti-Sunburn Mask.  According to the advertising copy, it will keep your face, neck, and other areas safe from sunburn!

So, rather than applying that pesky sunscreen all over your face, you only have to apply it to your ears, around your eyes, and your forehead!  And look how happy you become when you wear your UV Cut Athlete Anti-Sunburn Mask:

And look how happy it makes people who see you wearing your UV Cut Athlete Anti-Sunburn Mask:

But you know what?  The UV Cut Athlete Anti-Sunburn Mask is not inexpensive.  It costs $45.   Plus shipping.    

I don't need no stinkin' abacus to conclude I could buy a boatload of sunscreen with that money.  (Although, admitedly, sunscreen isn't nearly as much fun as the UV Cut Athlete Anti-Sunburn Mask.)

This probably will surprise none of my readers, but I made my own UV Cut Athlete Anti-Sunburn Mask.   For way less money.  

And my Nerdling Anti-Sunburn Mask covers your entire face, including your ears, eye area and forehead.

And it even comes with a bow tie.

The Cruise Ma$$age

You really have to be on your toes for a cruise massage.  Those people are ruthless.

Here's what they do.  They sit by the elevator and offer unsuspecting passengers a shoulder massage.  Next thing you know you've signed up for the $129 Spa Special. 

You'll have one of the best massages OF YOUR LIFE, administered by a 4'7" massage therapist with hands the size of Michael Jordan.  

And unbelievable cross-sell skills.

Rosalie began my massage by brushing my skin with some sort of Power Loofah.  Imagine the broom a janitor would use to remove stubborn spots in the gym.

"Uh-oh", I thought.  Rosalie is going to try and sell me a Loofah.

I beat her to the punch.  "Oh, I have have one of these," I said.

"One whut?" she asked, as she sloughed off dead skin cells about ten layers into my epidermis.

"One of these brushes."

"Thes gud," she lied, as she mentally crossed the $100 Loofah off the recommended product list.

Then she continued to give me one the best massages I've ever experienced.  Sweet, little Rosalie with the big hands.  At the end of 75 minutes I heard the ding of the triangle to signify that my time was up.

At this point I was in a massage coma.  I recall Rosalie instructing me to get dressed and that she would return with some fresh lemon water.

 
I stumbled into my clothes and headed out the door, where Rosalie was waiting with my water.  "Not so fast Little Lady,"  she said to me.  "Back your ass into that room.  I'm not done pitching products." 

(OK, maybe those weren't her exact words.  I was in a massage coma, after all.)

Rosalie asked me how I enjoyed my massage and I told her it was excellent.  "Oh, thes gud," she said, after which she personally recommended the spa gel, which will work wonders on my sore muscles.  For only $55.50.  

"Oh, I have that!" I lied.  "I got it on the Carnival Liberty last summer."

Undeterred, Rosalie rubbed some magic oil on the side of my neck and told me that my life would be much better if I purchased the $63.50 tube.

"Yes, I know!" I said.  "I bought a tube of that on the Carnival Breeze a few months back."  She raised her eyebrow, so I added, "It really works!  I won at bingo the very next night." 

So Rosalie dug deeper into her product list and informed me of the "hot off the shelf" Frangipani Oil that, at $63/jar, will make me look ten years younger.

"You won't believe this, Rosalie, but I picked up a jar of that on the Carnival Legend just last month.  And it works!"

Rosalie looked at me suspiciously.

"Yes," I said.  "It was a birthday present for myself.  I turned 95."

Poor Rosalie was dumbstruck.  She had no clue who she was dealing with.  

I handed her a $10 tip as I ran out the door.  

And I move pretty damn fast for a nonagenarian.

Salami in the Tin Foil Drawer

“I found the phone,” Dave announces as I enter the kitchen.

 “I didn’t know it was lost.”

“Yeah", he says.  "I’ve been looking for it for 10 minutes.”
 
“Well, where was it?”

“In the cupboard.  Next to the cereal.”  He raises one eyebrow and adds, “Why did you put it there?”

Here we go again.  He thinks it was me.  I know it was him.  

 “Not me,” I flatly deny.  “Must have been the same person who put the salami in the tin foil drawer last week.”
 
One thing’s for sure.  It couldn’t have been Linda.

She never puts anything away.

But there’s no way it was me.  I would never put the phone next to the Rice Krispees!
 
Although I did pour Diet Coke in Kevin’s water dish the other day.  

And then there was that tiny mishap with the clogs.

(I bought a new pair of brown clogs and dropped off my old pair at Good Will.  Except I gave away one shoe from each pair.)

OMG!  Maybe it was me!!  And it’s only likely to get worse.

If there was only some way to make lemonade out of this lemon.

Wait. One. Minute.

Reality TV! 

It will be a cross between Keeping Up With the Khardashians and The Real Housewives of Atlanta. 
 
I'll call it: Keeping Up With Stuff Misplaced by the Real Old People of Columbia.
 
It will be the biggest hit since Hoarders! 
 
I can just imagine the chatter in break rooms around the country.  “Did you see Keeping Up with Stuff Misplaced by the Real Old People of Columbia last night?”

And the ratings will go through the roof when I accidentally brush my teeth with Kevin’s Chicken Toothpaste.

The Addiction

Hello.  I’m Lou.  And I’m addicted to making Polar Fleece Headband Ear Warmers.

Hello Lou.

It all started when I ordered some Buffalo Bills polar fleece online.  I didn’t know what to do with it.

So I put on my Project Runway vibe and before you know it I had developed a prototype Polar Fleece Headband Ear Warmer.

Then I got the email from Hancock Fabrics that polar fleece was on sale.  

The rest was history.  

Before you know it I’d made enough Polar Fleece Headband Ear Warmers to cover the cold ears of every member of my extended family, neighbors, coworkers, and cast members from every show I've been in over the past ten years.
 
I was wracking my brain.  Who else would like one?  How about that greeter lady at Walmart?

I could not stop.  

Every night after dinner the urge would begin.  I’d get fidgety.  My pulse would quicken.  I’d break into cold sweats.

STEP AWAY FROM THE POLAR FLEECE

But I couldn’t stop. My inventory grew.  And grew.

What in the world was I going to do with all of these Polar Fleece Headband Ear Warmers?  

Send them to peasants in Siberia?  Or Fargo?

Then I thought about Etsy!  I could actually SELL these things. 

So I set up a shop on Etsy.  It’s called NerdlingProjects and there are 2 items for sale: Polar Fleece Headband Ear Warmers and Tom Brady Deflategate Whoopee Cushions.

I "opened" my shop.  Then I waited for my first sale. 

And waited.

And waited.

Crickets.

Until I decided to purchase one of my Polar Fleece Headband Ear Warmers myself.

I was so excited when I got the email saying I had made my first sale!  

I waited a day and alerted myself the buyer that I had shipped her order.  

And then I got an email from myself  the seller saying the item had shipped.

Dave noticed that an $18 charge had hit our credit card from Etsy and asked me about it.  

“Oh.... I bought one of my Polar Fleece Headband Ear Warmers.”

“From yourself?”
 
“Yeah” I said.

"Why?"

“I figured people may be afraid to buy something from someone on Etsy who never sold anything.”

He thought about it for a minute and asked, “You’re selling them for $18?”

“No.  They’re $15.  I charge $3 for shipping.” 
 
 “Are you going to mail it to yourself?” he asked
.
Duh.  Of course I’m not going to mail it to myself!  

But I am going to review it. 

But not right away.  I have to wait until it gets delivered.  

A GoGirl for a GoGirl

I had to look twice.  I wasn't at all sure what I was looking at.

It was a cross between a sippy cup.....and a port-a-potty?

OMG!  It’s a  GoGirl for toddlers.  

I read the product description.

 

Whether in the supermarket, hospital, highway, park, department stores, car and other public places or Restroom queue row when they are ready to give the baby use, to prevent the baby urine trousers. 

So.  Let me get this straight.  To prevent the baby urine trousers, she just has to pee into the green miniature GoGirl. 

No longer let baby urgency find toilet, this not only leak proof and anti odor. but also could be anywhere in the bag to carry and use. 

Wow. I will no longer let baby urgency find toilet.  (Huh?)  It doesn't leak or smell.  And I can carry it anywhere in the bag.  To use!
  
I looked at it more closely.  It seems to me that, in order to prevent the baby urine trousers, she would not just have to pee into the green GoGirl.  She would have to aim for the orange circle.  That looks to be the size of a Cheeto. 

Although I trust that any and all pee that finds its way through the orange spiked circle and into the belly of the mouse puppy elephant will not spill.  

I'm not aware of any girl under the age of 3 who can accurately aim her urine and hit that target.  Without significant splatter.  

Hell!  I couldn't do it.  And I'm 39!

Shut up. 

You know what this product needs? 

A GoGirl!

And is it just me, or does that mouse puppy elephant look a little bit too happy?  

For crying out loud, he's about to get a mouth full of pee.