#2. The Sex Toy That Ruins Sex
Sometimes, the wonderful steak that is boning needs a little something to go with it. A hint of sauce, if you know what I mean. Maybe some nice side dishes, if you catch my- no, not fries. Not LITERAL FRIES. Jesus. Put that deep fryer away.
"But ... for fucking ..."
I'm speaking, of course, of sex toys. Everyone and their mom -- especially your mom -- knows that there are all sorts of gadgets available for the experimental mind, and also some slightly lower regions. We all like different things, and the wonderful laws of supply and demand make sure that all those things are available on the shelves somewhere. I get that, and I'm not going to step on people's metaphorical (or actual) dicks by claiming that the dildo gas mask doesn't have its fans out there.
However, toys are toys. The Oral Sex Light is something else altogether.
Even the package is laughing at you.
From French ticklers to fuck chairs, most sex toys at least have the potential to be romantic. It's perfectly conceivable that somewhere there's a couple that can have a romantic candlelight dinner and then naturally, effortlessly proceed to whip out the plastic chinstrap dong. The Oral Sex Light is a different beast. The very concept makes romance and erotica equally impossible, because it's a fucking flashlight that's shaped like a hands-free earpiece. How do you introduce it into the proceedings? How does your significant other keep their mood (or, for that matter, a straight face) when you then proceed to flop about their nether regions with your excavation light's beam zapping all across their thighs, walls, and face, giving away your every tiny motion and blinding them every time you inconspicuously glance up to check if they're starting to look bored? You might as well be wearing a miner's helmet, except that's less embarrassing because no one looks like a misguided maniac when they actually purchase a miner's helmet.
Luckily, it appears that humanity is slowly realizing this particular error of our sexin' ways. The Oral Sex Light is indefinitely out of stock on Amazon, and an afternoon of investigative journalism failed to locate any from nearby sex shops. Still, this relief was somewhat tainted, because investigative journalism was reminded that zombie Fleshlights are a thing that very much exists (link NSFW) and was forced to spend the rest of the night weeping quietly into a whiskey bottle.
(Also laughing because I said "taint" in the previous sentence.)
#1. The Bacon Product That Ruins Bacon
Ever since the Internet crowned bacon the official Food of the Gods, the delicacy has been abused in a great many ways. From T-shirts to candy to cologne to lubricant, online shops are teeming with strange bacon-themed products that bear as much resemblance to the actual food item as crude oil does to dinosaurs. However, none of the bacon candles and air fresheners out there actually hurt the reputation of the original, except maybe by diminishing it via overexposure and sheer stupidity. They're just harmless fun for people who are easily entertained and don't mind constantly smelling like rancid pig fat.
And then there is Yoder's canned bacon.
Yoder's is advertised as a delicious snack that is fully comparable to freshly cooked bacon, despite the fact that it has a shelf life of 10 goddamn years. So when you innocently crack open the can to obtain your hourly bacon fix, you're totally unprepared to find this:
They say if you hold it to your ear, you can hear the pig from Babe crying.
If you somehow find the courage to unravel that log of stale-smelling Lovecraftian horror and peel off the congealed blobs of white fat, you may temporarily let out a sigh of relief. The actual product features far fewer tentacles than you'd assume and in fact manages to look almost like ordinary bacon ...
... and by "ordinary bacon," I mean "skin-like strips of uncertain origin that look like leftovers from Leatherface's family dinner." Still, even this means nothing. Let's face it -- as delicious as it is, bacon is not exactly a looker at the best of times. It's all about the taste, which, incidentally, is a sense you immediately regret having once you bite into a rasher of Yoder's. This "bacon" is smelly, stringy, mealy, and without any semblance of meaty texture whatsoever. Even a quick taste is likely to leave your hands and mouth coated in a thin sheen of slimy grease that you just know will never completely go away. The only things that make it taste slightly like real bacon are the many, many artificial chemicals (including "smoke flavor") that feature heavily on the list of ingredients.
As a nice "fuck your cardiovascular system" touch, this is apparently the smallest amount the company sells.
See, that's the reason Yoder's is so terrifying. It's not bad because it tries to be funny. It's not loathsome because it rides the coattails of greatness with some random product the company pooped together in five minutes and slapped a bacon pattern on. It's bad because it actively shoves perfectly good bacon in tiny cans, using imprisonment and chemicals to break it and turn it into a twisted imitation of its former glory.
That's not a product, that's bacon torture.
Pauli Poisuo once accidentally bought a hat that made him look like Bret Michaels, thus forever ruining the concepts of hats and Bret Michaels. Follow him on Twitter.