Waking up to bread is SO much better than waking up to a severe infestation of bedbugs. (Which is what I call my crabs so people don’t think I’m dirty.)

Desktop Wallpaper via Yonder Ponder

It’s been 90 years since suffragettes won women the vote. In honor of this day, make the back of your iPhone look like the front of your iPhone is constantly getting a call from every woman’s favorite Commander in Chief, President Cliton. It’s all thanks to a fantastic overseas misspelling on what would otherwise be a completely run-of-the-mill useless product.  Anyways, quick question, do you think the iPhone warranty is voided if the phone gets you wet?

Something smells like Sparks and Urban Outfitters in here. Must be this CRT television iPad dock. It makes your gagillion dollar minicomputer look like an old piece of crap. What’s next? A car dock that makes your car look like a fixie? A koozie that makes your Diet Coke look like a Pabst? A hat that makes your hair look like an unwashed, blonde rat’s nest? Chapstick that makes your lips look like mustaches?  Well, here’s a hint from Helloise: you’ll save  time and achieve the same effect if you just buy a giant douche bag and flop around in it instead.

Via the always delicious, SwissMiss.

Do you ever wonder why people have kids? They’re expensive, smelly and most of them are jerks. The answer: remotes. As we age, our ability to afford complicated remotes rises dramatically while our ability to work said remotes diminishes at an equal rate. It’s a true fact. I saw it scribbled in a back issue of Scientific American once. So, as we’re sitting on the couch furiously mashing the tiny remote buttons with our potato chip greased fingers, we naturally experience the overwhelming urge to reproduce. Ten years later, we get a selfish, sticky-fingered midget who can finally help navigate the On Demand section. Thankfully, someone has invented an incredibly complicated remote that looks like it doubles as an incredibly complicated diaphragm… which solves exactly zero of the problems listed above.

If I had this Numberless Clock, the last line would always be lit up. Yes, in my house it’s always Tense O’Clock. See, I subsidize my income by allowing the Maury Show to use our kitchen as a greenroom, and triflin’, chicken-headed, skank-ass baby mommas tend to make people uncomfortable.

via Icelandic Butterflies

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.

I’m so busy today I had to travel back in time to write this post. Now I’m trapped in a time paradox with Captain Picard and that fucking hologram from Quantum Leap. None of that makes sense, you say? Well, in my left hand I have this post. And in my right dangles this crazy knitting clock. Look at the clock! Whoops, who stole your wallet?

Via the Dudeliest Crafter we know.

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.

You need this iPlunge phone stand. Because if the contents of your phone are a reflection of the contents of your brain, then your iPhone is definitely full of shit.

Oh, God. It’s been five seconds since someone’s stuck something useless in my USB drive and I’m just exploding with technological tension at the mere thought of what might be shoved in there next. And here’s my answer: the scent drive. It uses the power of your computer to dispense smells. And like most things that get shoved in stuff, it’s a total let-down. If only they made smell emitter for your butt that ran on farts. Or a talking one for your mouth that ran on stupid. Then we’d be in business.