Posts Tagged ‘humor’

Sky Mall: Making you, your pets and your lawn look super cool since 1990

Things in America are still a bit rough these days. Political hissy fits gridlock is preventing any progress in Washington. Chris Brown is apparently living with one of those tiara toddlers from that TLC show. (So, uh, yeah … I don’t really follow celebrity news …)

But if there’s one thing that can hold this country together, it’s … Sky Mall. Available coast to coast, it’s been marketing absolutely ridiculous products that we all secretly kind of want to buy for more than two decades. For instance, no matter how you feel about marriage equality, we can all agree that anyone, gay or straight, is going to rocket up the coolness scale once people see them wearing this sweet UpRight Sleeper on a plane:

UpRight Sleeper

I had the privilege of perusing the lastest version of Sky Mall on a recent flight, and I have to say, they’ve really raised the bar. Let’s dive right in.

First up, the pet category. (Before we get started here, I would like to reiterate my belief that pets are not, in fact, people. It’s kind of radical, but it’s what I truly believe, deep down inside. Don’t get me wrong – I love our Pancakey Fwuff Puff more than words can say, but she simply does not possess the cognitive abilities nor the capacity to feel emotions the same way humans do.  If you happen to think that pets are people, then the following commentary may offend you. And I’m not really sorry.)

Of course, if you’re going to own a pet, then you’re responsible for providing its basic needs, and it deserves your love and affection, as any living creature, except a snake, does. But Sky Mall is pushing it too far. Case in point: The Urban Vogue Pet Stroller.

Dog stroller

This is not OK.

Isn’t going on a walk one of the main highlights of a dog’s life? What kind of dog just wants to cruise around in a stroller instead of exploring on his own four feet? A sissy dog, that’s what kind. And if you’re currently raising a sissy dog, then just do all dogs and humans a favor and stop. Find someone else who’s willing to take the damn thing on a real walk.

Also, I noticed there seems to be a typo in the description for the Urban Vogue Pet Stroller on the Sky Mall website. It currently reads: “The Urban Vogue Pet Stroller is a great item to take your pet outdoors and look great while you’re doing it.” I made some calls and confirmed that it actually should read: The Urban Vogue Pet Stroller is a great item to take your pet outdoors and look really, really douchey while you’re doing it.” Sky Mall regrets the error.

On that same note, Sky Mall also offers the Poochie Pants Denim Outfit:

Denim

Apparently the Poochie Pants Denim Outfit is so incredibly lame that they couldn’t even find a real dog to model it. So don’t buy it and expect your real dog to wear it. And if you do, for the love of beans, don’t pay $55.99 for it.

Next up, arguably the best division of Sky Mall: lawn decor! Basically, if you want to have the most stylish yard on the block, just buy all your outdoor figurines from Sky Mall. Imagine the conversations a collection like this would spark at your  next barbecue! Let’s start with the classics:

There’s the Super Wiener Garden Statue:

Super Wiener Garden Sculpture

Life-like, isn’t he?

The Zombie of Montclair Moors:

Zombie

“Help! I’ve been trapped in Sky Mall for seven years!”

“Bigfoot the Garden Yeti” Statue:

Bigfoot 1

Whose success I assume inspired the “Bigfoot, the Bashful Yeti” tree sculpture:

Bashful Bigfoot

“Pssst … tell anyone I actually exist and I will eat your family, including the dog you roll around in that stupid stroller. BTW, you look like a real d-bag when you do that.”

As well as the “Bigfoot Holiday Yeti” ornament:

Holiday Bigfoot

“God damn it, kids! Come help me with these lights!”

Then there’s the totally-normal-not-weird-at-all-to-put-in-your-yard “Peeing Boy of Brussels” Statue and Fountain:

Brussels

And now, the recent  (to me, anyway) additions that are destined to become best-sellers:

First up, we have Roswell the Alien Sculpture:

If a naked alien sculpture doesn't get people to your party, nothing will.

If a naked alien sculpture doesn’t get people to go to your party, nothing will. (Side note: Why is that we imagine aliens possessing the technology to fly light years to another planet, but they somehow haven’t invented clothes yet? They probably deserve a little credit.)

And don’t forget the flying saucer he arrived in!

UFO

Up next, the Velociraptor Dinosaur Statue:

Velociraptor

Yours for a cool $2,250.

Later, when people start to question whether your velociraptor is real (trust me, you will get questions), you can tell them that, sadly, Henry died while courageously fighting in the Great Raptors vs. Robots Battle of 2013. But, fortunately, his bones are still intact in the backyard:

Poor Henry. He never really had a chance in this world.

Poor Henry. He never really had a chance against the robots.

Then there’s my personal fave (natch), the Squirrel Bike Messanger Statue:

I suppose requesting that the squirrel pedal IS asking too much.

Don’t let the fact that the squirrel can’t peddle make you doubt its authenticity.

And finally, we’ll end our not-even-close-to-complete tour of Sky Mall’s inventory in what I suppose would fall under the “miscellaneous” category, with the, uh, “Biffy Bag” … aka portable toilet:

Portable toilet

According to the description, “this handy disposable toilet is completely sanitary, and small enough to carry in your purse, pack or glove compartment. The three-layer leak and puncture proof bag ties comfortably around your waist, and the absorbent Biffy powder formula engulfs waste, solidifies liquids, and creates an immediate seal to neutralize odor 4,000 times better than a regular garbage bag.”

Look, I live in Montana. It’s not exactly an urban metropolis with a bathroom around every corner. I understand circumstances arise in which perfectly normal people need to “pop a squat.” You’re out hiking and nature calls, etc. I’ve been there. I get it. But just quietly excuse yourself, hide behind a tree and be done with it. Please don’t carry it around in a bag afterward. No matter what your political views are, surely we can all agree on that.

Apples to Apples

Every time Zach and I go to a party and someone suggests we play the popular and delightful game Apples to Apples, I have to quickly suggest another option, such as taking turns punching one another in the stomach.

That’s how bad Zach is at Apples to Apples.

If you’re not familiar with A2A, the premise is simple yet unique: Each player receives seven red cards, each with a noun printed on it. They then take turns being the judge, who draws from a stack of green cards with adjectives on them. The other players decide which of their noun cards best fits that adjective. The judge ranks the red cards, and the person who put in the No. 1 card — according to the judge AND NO ONE ELSE — wins that round.

Anyone who’s ever played A2A understands the key is to play into the personality of the current judge. For example, if the person likes funny or ironic combinations (which make the game infinitely more enjoyable than the seriously lame literal pairings, I might add), then you know that during her turn, you should opt for that over a noun that works in a more conventional sense. All other humans who have played A2A fully comprehend this and strategize accordingly. Zach does not.

See, when Zach plays A2A, he apparently loses the quick sense of wit and humor he exudes so effortlessly otherwise. If you played with him, you’d soon realize he’s one of those people who prefers the literal pairings, and whenever his turn rolled around, you’d play a card to suit this preference.

So, while playing the combination “delicious babies” might be some of the funniest shit ever, you would still put down “chocolate cake” if it were Zach’s turn. Unless you didn’t give a shit about his preference and just wanted to create the funniest combination possible, because who needs to take life that seriously when you’re getting drunk with a bunch of college buddies and you just want to laugh and have a good time?

That scenario describes the first time Zach and I played A2A. It was a wintry Friday night our senior year, and we were hanging out with a bunch of co-workers from the school newspaper, enjoying some adult beverages. We started the game, and most everyone quickly caught on.

One guy in particular took to the ironic combinations, so when he judged, everyone knew to come up with the most absurd pairing possible. Except Zach. Zach still played the most literal choice he could, and he grew increasingly angry each time the other player chose another card over his.

One time, this player drew the “neglected” card. Zach played “New Orleans,” while someone else played the noun “politicians.” When the judge chose “neglected politicians” over “neglected New Orleans,” I thought Zach was going to lose it. (Granted, this was about a year after Katrina, FEMA and heckuva job Brownie, so it was probably the best choice …)

At this point, I should have foreseen the storm brewing. When he threatened to quit the game, I should not have persuaded him otherwise. I should have faked dysentery and asked him to take me home. (Yes, telling my friends I had the grossest disease you could get on the Oregon Trail would have been better than what happened next.)

But I didn’t. Oh, how I didn’t …

Next, someone drew the word “cosmic” from the adjective pile. Zach laid down the “big bang theory.” As the big bang theory is about as cosmic as it gets, he considered this a sure-fire winner. Someone else played “bigfoot.” It came down to “big bang theory” and “bigfoot.”

“Bigfoot” won.

Zach freaked out.

“No. NO! There is NOTHING more cosmic than the big bang theory! This game is so GAY!”

(Now, Zach is a fairly upstanding individual who doesn’t normally throw around the word “gay” to mean “stupid” like an illiterate, ignorant seventh-grader would. Nor would we have started dating in the first place if he did. But Apples to Apples had thrown him into such a blinding rage that he reverted to this uncouth description.)

“I’M LEAVING!” he bellowed. He shot a glance at me, foam dripping from his mouth. “ARE YOU COMING WITH ME?”

I sat at the table, a little panicked, my eyes flitting back and forth between him and the group of drunk people snickering at his outburst. On the one hand, he was my normally calm, personable boyfriend. On the other hand, he was acting like a psycho.

I chose to go with him. Mainly because I was mortified and didn’t want to explain his behavior if I stayed. We barely spoke in the car. (I told him I would prefer if he wouldn’t use the word “gay” like that; he replied, “Yeah, fine, whatever.”)

To this day, no one can mention A2A to Zach without provoking a fit of rage. Just last week, a friend mentioned it on Facebook, and he immediately commented to say how stupid it is.

I’ve given up trying to explain it to him, because he just doesn’t get it. In my last attempt, I tried to explain that the other players didn’t always agree with the judge’s choice, but they didn’t freak out.

His reply?

“So, if you see someone getting attacked, and everyone else is staying calm, but you’re sort of freaking out and want to call 9-1-1, does that make you the weird one? NO!”

That’s more like comparing apples to oranges than apples to apples, I replied.

No wonder he doesn’t get it.