In this chaotic, advertorial, multibranded world of ours, it can be difficult to know precisely how much value one is actually getting for one's money. The best solution to this problem is to carefully research your purchases beforehand, but this can take time and effort, and it's not half as much fun or easy as just buying whatever seems the neatest.
The other alternative is to rely on idiotic folk wisdom like "you get what you pay for". But of course, whenever any reasonably wealthy person follows "you get what you pay for" to its logical conclusion they end up buying German cars, $7 bags of "organic" corn chips, and eight thousand dollar sets of Bose speakers simply because these were the most expensive options available to them at the time.
Anyway, here's a bunch of entertainingly-overpriced crap.
When it comes to toys, children have ridiculously low standards. A kid will play with anything. If you don't believe me, pick up any random object (a sheet of paper, a handful of broken glass, a bunch of loose change clumped together because someone spilled syrup or something in the cup holder) and hand it to a two-year-old. Chances are they'll begin playing with it, and good many of them will probably try to eat it too. That's how openminded kids are; when it comes to potential toys, everything gets a fair shake.
Alas, the same cannot be said of adults. As humans age, we develop "tastes" and the ability impose "value judgments" upon "objects" people "hand to us". For example: If you were to offer a full-grown woman a bucket filled with antifreeze and say "Drink this, it's antifreeze", she would almost certainly refuse. Not so with a child. In fact, a recent survey conducted by the Pew Research Center found that a full 100% of children surveyed happily drank antifreeze out of a bucket. So yeah...uh...kids...and..uhh...
Dammit, I blew it. This segue is the worst. There's no way I can make it work now. I guess I'll just have to start the article manually. Hold on a sec, let me find the thing here. Alright, got it. Let's see if this works.
Like many of my fellow Brothers In Christ, I was shocked, saddened, and outraged when I heard that the US Government was going to allow the new megaviolent animated videogame Bulletstorm to be released. This comes even after Child Advocate and Actual Medical Doctor Carole Lieberman (in an interview on Fox News) proved conclusively that violent videogames cause rape by claiming that they did.
When pressed for "evidence" to back up her claims, she was unable to produce even a single shred. This of course led to cries of "irresponsible journalism" and "fear-mongering" among pro-rape advocates in the gaming industry, but the more educated among us know that those who constantly clamor for reputable scientific studies to back up what appear to be unsubstantiated and outrageous claims are missing the point: Violent videogames exist, and until they are successfully banned, our children will continue commit acts of violence, torture, embezzlement, and premarital assault.
But what of Bulletstorm specifically? Is this game truly as reprehensible as so many have claimed? The answer, of course, is a wholehearted and undeniable "yes."
Like the other books in the Offensive Advice For Dating Outside Your Race series (Japanese Women: They'll Do What You Say, Indian Men: Smart But I Guess They Have Tiny Penises, Black Chicks: Centuries of Systemic Oppression Have Made Them A Little Cranky) How To Date a White Woman is advertised as "your one-stop shop" for information on dating a particular ethnic subset of humanity (in this case, White Women), but I found it sorely lacking in useful information.
Although I am white, I figured I'd be able to derive at least one or two good tips on dating white women from this book, but this is certainly not the case. Not only is this book Asian-Man-Centric, but it also lacks depth. I found most of their advice to be blatantly obvious (or outright false): "White women don't like spiders", "White women sometimes have difficulty opening jars", "White women who aren't prostitutes get offended when you try to pay them for sex", the list goes on and on.
As someone who recently dated a white woman, I can easily come up with better tips than the ones in this book off the top of my head. So just keep reading if you want to be let in on all the white women's secrets.
Product Review: "The 2007 Report on Wood Poles, Piles, and Posts Not More Than 15 Feet in Length Owned and Treated with Pentachlorophenol or Other Chemicals by the Same Establishment: World Market Segmentation by City"
As an officially licenced and bonded FST (Fence, Scaffold, and Tenting) contractor, I can tell you that without a doubt, a man's success in the FST industry is almost wholly dependant on his understanding of wood poles, piles, and posts more than 15 feet in length owned and treated with pentachlorophenol by the same establishment. That's why I recommend This Book.
This alone would be enough to warrant the 800 dollar purchase, but the included segmentation of the entire wood poles, piles, and posts market by city (a feature which is not often included in similar Laughably Specific Global Strategic Planning Digests) makes this book a great buy for even the most casual of Pentachlorophenol-Treated Building Material enthusiasts.
But to be honest, there are quite a few issues with this book that I feel keep it from achieving "Must-Buy" status. Let's have a look at some of the more glaring problems, shall we?
Rejoice, mindless Coca-Cola enthusiasts, for your salvation has arrived. Because now, thanks to whomever the fuck Kurt Adler is, you may now purchase (for the low low price of 25 American Freedom Dollars) a set of plastic string lights in the shape of soft drink cans. These specially designed light sources are 100% guaranteed not clash with the Coca-Cola commemorative plates, framed Coca-Cola photographs, and dust-encrusted Coca-Cola Calendars which currently adorn the walls of your cluttered, cat-piss-smelling hovel.
With just a simple credit card transaction, these gaudy symbols of unabashed consumerism will be shipped directly to your front door, where they may then be torn from the box in a frenzy and slapped upon the walls as symbols of your pathetic brand loyalty to one of the world's largest and least interesting corporations!
So let's dive right in and take a look at the specific features which make these particular sources of artificial (yet godly) luminescence so very special.
Is the Q-Link Pendant some ingenious scam, or do magical mass-produced pendants with the ability to fight off diseases using invisible & unmeasurable fields actually exist? These are the sorts of questions I often find myself asking after receiving several blows to the head with an industrial-grade titanium girder. Of course I don't mean to suggest that only someone who has sustained severe damage to the frontal lobe would believe that a small chunk of plastic and metal could actually prevent or treat any disease--wait, actually maybe I do.
In any case, please have a look at the following review, in which I discuss the features of the Q-Link pendant in the most evenhanded, dignified, and unbiased way possible.
Whether they're being subjected to perfectly acceptable physical abuse for failing to have your dinner ready on time, conforming to misogynistic stereotypes about driving ability, or drowning their infant children in the bathtub due to severe postpartum depression and psychosis, women can be a real handful!
But luckily the geniuses at Taipei Novelty Product Production Assembly Line #124038 have come up with THIS KOOKY GAG REMOTE for all those "guys" out there who just want to "watch the big game with their buddies" without being forced to acknowledge the existence of the "perpetually exasperated vagina-possessing nursemaid" to whom they have allowed themselves to become emotionally attached.
I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that this box of organically protected Trichogramma parasite larvae is a must buy for those whose plans for world domination hinge on the cultivation and subsequent release of thousands of tiny Hymenopteran insects.
The old "don't judge a book by its cover" adage has never made much sense to me. You can tell a lot about a book like this one by looking at the cover. I mean, any idiot could see that it's a field guide for picking wild mushrooms which was written by an impishly deranged trombone enthusiast named David who enjoys feigning the thievery of large quantities of fungi while wearing a cheap 70s tuxedo.