It’s Friday, grab your dragon mug and let’s toast your virginity. Oh, shit. I spilled my mead on your Magic the Gathering Cards. Just kidding. Made you cry!

I’m a little teapot,

Short and stout.

Here is my handle,

Here is my spout.

When I get all steamed up

I will shout

That you’ll probably get gastroenteritis from non-pathogenic microbial bone-decay residue contaminating your tea, or possibly even contract cadaverine or putrescine from ingesting toxic doses of the substances.

Sloppy drunk has never been so clean. Until now, the shower was the one place American companies had neglected to shoe-horn a cup holder. Of course, Tub Mug likely means the death of my cup-holder shaped breast implant concept. But there are plenty more ideas where that came from. Quick, someone pass me that box of fortune cookies.

Coincidentally, Disposable Flask was my nickname in college.

Obviously, looking up Woozie Wine Koozies made me question whatever happened to Swoozie Kurtz. I mean, who didn’t love that redheaded minx in Bubble Boy and The Positively True Adventures of the Alleged Texas Cheerleader-Murdering Mom? So off to IMDB went I, only to discover the saddest news I’ve gotten in a long time: God rest her soul… Swoozie’s on Mike and Molly. Worse than dead, I’d say. So I’ll be pouring a little clearance rack Yellow Tail out of my Woozie in honor of Swoozie. And then I’m getting a hysterectomy and hot flashes, because those seem like the most logical next steps.

Just like yours, these cocks deal with a lot of condensation. Oh, you said “condescension”? Carry on…

It’s that time of year again. Time for the world’s hottest grinches to pack up our egos and sign-off for 2011. Don’t despair. We have It’s a Wonderful Life marathons, those Courtney Stodden Christmas photos, and after-Christmas shopping to fill our days until we meet again. So…how much whisky will it take to drink myself into a two-week coma?

I don’t drink beer, seeing as to how I am classy and shit. But, should I decide to move to a Michigan trailer park and start cow-tipping, you can bet your sweet bippy I will pick up the Seussian Skuuzi koozie. According to the description, it somehow keeps your hand warm and your beer cold. “What devilment be this,” is probably what your asking yourself. The answer: the devily kind. I really can’t be more specific due to the nondisclosure. As you can imagine, Hell has the best lawyers.

“You already drink like a fish so you and this wine holder have a lot in common, but unlike you it can hold it’s liquor.” And that, boys and girls, is what we call The Ultimate Pun-un-un-un. (<– That’s The Ultimate Echo.)

I don’t know which is worse: the unblinkingly sinister overeagerness or the SmartShopper^TM 301 Grocery List Organizer. Even the name is overcomplicated. It’s voice activated and sorts over 2,500 preloaded groceries and household supplies alphabetically or by category. But, you know what else can make and sort lists? My brain. And I don’t need to read an instruction manuel to figure it out. It runs on booze and tacos.