I thought the secret to amateur porn stardom was having a rack or dick of freakish proportions, completely lacking any moral hang-ups, and putting aside your repulsion for unsavory, hairy pot-bellied men and/or women with frizzy perms and ingrown shave jobs.

Little did I know the actual secret is a willingness to digitally print your ceramic tiles. Gorgeous, isn’t it? Seriously, for every fifty tiles you order, they should throw in a free latex buttplug.

There are few things I love enough to make a crochet pattern out of. And a Q-Tip is totally one!!! Anything that can shove wax, dirt and ear crud further down my canal to drown you out? A+++

“This interesting sink… is reminiscent of oyster shells… or shale rock formation that is occurring over eons…”

No. This disgusting sink… is reminiscent of a herpes sore… a scabby STD formation that is occurring over your upper lip.

In true Etsy fashion, the title for this soap is very succinct: Tits and Ass Soap – Boob and Butt – Birthday Gag Gift for Men – Mature. I’d like to point out two things.

1. No man will appreciate any version of tits and ass that gets smaller the more you rub it.

2. There’s only one type of gag gift men really want, and it has a lot to do with gagging, but nothing to do with soap.

What do toilet paper and douches have in common? Aside from the time they spend loitering about your vagina? Well, if you’re talking about pharmaceutical douches, that may be it. But if you’re talking about people who are douches, then what they have in common is Waitrose Cashmere Toilet Paper. As if your labia are so majora that they deserve the very best. I have news for you: your bathroom bits are pedestrian. Not gold-plated. Not insured for millions. Regular old pee parts. Maybe you can use that cashmere toilet paper to soak up your diamond-coated tears.

This “seat sock” is seriously being marketed as a Valentine’s Day decoration. So, men, take a moment this v-day to create extra-special matchy-matchy urinary drippings. Leave heart-shaped tinkle droplets on the seat, and let the inevitable piss-crusted pube spear it like Cupid’s arrow. So romantic! I think we can agree that she’ll be toilet bowled over.

pee pee jokes

Thanks to Jill Kimbrough, who has impeccable aim.

The Pee Without Noise stool freaks me out a little. Silent peeing is unnatural. How do you know what’s going on down there if you can’t hear it? What if you’re sucked into a fifth dimension urination vacuum? You could get trapped in the bathroom forever, stuck in a vortex of urinary confusion, afraid to stand up for fear of pissing the floor, but questioning whether the stream has ceased!

This is a really realistic problem that you can mull over while you’re peeing in your natural state of surround sound.

pee pee

via Catherine Dizzety-DAMN Dixon

Today I was in the bathroom at work when toilet water literally started to rain from the heavens. I escaped with only a few drops on my arm, but the deluge intensified and flooded the whole place. Now our water’s turned off and I still have to pee. I take this as a sign that God reads the blog. And even though he enjoys doling out the occasional smiting, I’d like to think he makes it up to me by guiding my browser to a gem like this. After all, he made me in his image. Which means He’s a pretty hot chick for a dude.

Find more art by Aleksandra Waliszewska here.

Via Hard Feelings.

They call this the Singin’ In The Rain shower curtain, but I call it the Unintentional Peepshow shower curtain. You may have your head obscured while you’re scrub-a-dub-dubbin’, but I can assure you that your boyfriend’s head will be on full display while he’s fop-fop-foppin’.

I don’t know which scenario is worse: a) Your mildew is now a sentient being and has made its own slime hand with which it likely plans to grab your ass; b) you bought and installed soap shaped like a hand that will likely grab your ass. Wait, I’m having an epiphany. The latter is worse and makes you an idiot. Now you don’t have to worry about dropping the soap so much as you have to worry about the soap slipping its own cold, slimy mitt up your crack. Unless you’re into that kind of stuff. In which case, try not to confuse the jizz with your shampoo.