Help me out here. I’m trying to think of occasions that would warrant the use of a remote-control light switch. So far all I’ve come up with is that you’re sitting on the toilet taking a dump and you can’t get up because you’re not ready to pinch-off, but you need to turn the lights out because you were going to summon Bloody Mary and show her what kind of poop a big boy makes. That happens a lot, right?

PS – If you have to plug the lamp into this special box for the remote to work, this is pretty much a wash laziness-wise.

Urban Outfitters bills this dog pencil sharpener as “the only dog butt you should ever stick a pencil into.” Great. Now you tell me.

When it comes to alarm clocks, I really just want them to wake me up.

I do not need them to turn setting the time and alarm into a task that requires a degree in physics.

Nor do I need them to posses the ability to deliver a surreptitious, possibly vibrating enema to myself, my husband and our child as we creepily sleep together in our group bed.

According to Catherine McEver, her Wonder Bread art can last up to four years. It’s beautiful, but the questions this raises about Wonder Bread are infinite and horrifying… Not to mention the consequences of waking up in the middle of the night to find yourself groggily gorging on a PB and Thread. Remember that time your dog ate string?

Via Shelterrific.

This twine shower curtain holder-onner would look pretty cool with a more modern shower curtain, right? I mean, I can’t do it because I live in Texas and all things even remotely country must be avoided. It’s not that I don’t occasionally enjoy a worn-in leather chair or something, but when you live in the South, it’s a slippery slope from “slightly Western accent piece” to “wearing gingham while you swill moonshine through your toothless gums after you’ve boned a cow in Billy Ray’s pasture.”

Yesterday, unicorns were cool. But today I’m totally over them. This is like that time I wanted to eat only cheese for four weeks, so I did and it was amazing until one day I woke up and I just wasn’t that into it anymore. Except this time I get to keep my colon. So, ironic 80s stereotype illustrators of the world, find a new mythical beast to draw next to outdated electronics. May I suggest the Noid?

I don’t know about you, but I like to store my Kleenex in an anus with arms. Which is fitting because I keep most of my sneezes in a vagina with feet. (That’s me!!) And most of my snot in an asshole with legs. (That’s you!!) And I keep my logical thoughts in a place called “not here.”

via Chadical

When you’re sliding into home and you feel a little cash, you’ll know you’ve put on the wrong pair of shit-stained underwear. This Brief Safe comes with “special marks” to help keep those nasty criminals from rummaging around in your specially designed penis pouch for your hard-earned valuables. But why give Sears $13 for something you could shit on yourself practically for free? Seriously, why?

Via Rod “the Crack Clencher” Cruz.

Tell your butt to repent. It’s Chairmageddon. Ditch the hair shirt and the cat o’ nine tails and self-flagellate in ergonomic comfort with this cactus chair. Now your poops can feel as bad on the outside as they do on the inside. PS – eat more fiber.

While this wooden bathtub is beautiful, I wouldn’t want to bathe in it for fear of getting a splinter in my ass cheeks. Not a sliver of wood; I mean that sewer rat from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. See, I’ve been in therapy to free myself from a fetish that involves hot baths, romantic music, 80s action figures and… I think I’ve said too much.