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.