For $425 you can take a pill that will make your doodoo twinkle so it looks like The Real Housewives will have a new spin-off.

via Incredible Things

Ladies, you can either spend $280 on one of these leather boxes, or become a Florida beach nudist and create your own.

There are at least a couple of good reasons not to have a hot tub installed at your home. Number one: it’s not the 70s. But if you just can’t resist the urge to soak in a warm vat of diluted urine and spilled wine coolers, not to fear. The Hot Tug is here. (Hold your applause.) Now you can take your show urinary tract infection on the road white-trash lake to remind your neighbors of the urgent need to circle-circle-dot-dot give themselves a douchebag shot. It a public service, really.

When Mittens went off on his tangent about the good-for-nothing 47%, he left out one very important fact: that the other 47% are assholes. What kind of assholes? The kind who would buy a box of mail-order holiday gourds for $68. Sad but true. What about the 6% we left out? They’re busy masturbating. Tragically, they’re our nation’s best and only hope. God speed, diddlers.

The convenient thing about this Louis Vuitton waffle maker is that it doubles as a tiny tanning bed for your almost non-existent sense of humility.

To turn this lamp on, you just shake it’s hand. So, basically, it’s you in lamp form.

Well, kids, now that Michael Jackson’s dead, you’ll need to buy this sofa if you want velvety soft hands to cup your ass.

Invest in a diamond toilet to turn your tinkles into twinkles.

I got so excited when I saw these and then I saw the price tags. $430 for each state? Fuck you, iron skillet states. They claim to be pre-seasoned, but with what? Pioneer tears? Buffalo semen? No? Then they’re too expensive, dammit.

via CMYBacon

The last thing I want to see is your prune-puckered, raw chicken cheeks sliding around in a clear bathtub. For the record, the first thing I want to see is an all-Amish rendition of Small Wonder on Ice.