They say necessity is the mother of invention. What they neglect to mention is that invention's dad is a moron and he sometimes pops by the house with a new piece of shit idea that's so staggeringly awful that he takes your silent awe as approval when in fact you're trying to think of a new way to say "What the fuck?" that is at once louder and more vulgar, and somehow requires the assistance of noted scholars and theologians.
People invent awful stuff all the time, and while there were a lot of really kitschy patents around the turn of the last century, you'd think that the dumb idea bank would be getting full up in modern times. But it looks like there's still room for people to squeeze one or two new turds through.
Statistically speaking, it's probably not entirely unlikely that there is someone out there who is enamored with cycling but fears pedals and really gets off on sex swings. Someone who wants to blend all three of those things together in one place. I know it's not entirely unlikely because it happened and they called it the Fliz.
At first glance, this looks like the sort of thing you should strap a child into in order to mock him. In a bygone era, they would have done this to mental deficients and claimed that it helped them exercise, but really it was just so the crooked and sinister staff at the institute could point and laugh as the little mouth breathers scooted around all ridiculous-like.
Looking at the Fliz, you'll notice a few things right away. First, you probably need to be making a noise like "Hherrrrrrrggghh!" the entire time you're using it. Second, with a slot for your head in front, you'll finally be able to do away with that pesky collarbone should you ever get in an accident. Third, every single pothole or speed bump will basically be like a punch to the head, which you'll deserve for strapping yourself into this big boy's exersaucer.
Some inventions don't need to be improved. Have you seen the electric fork? That's so fucking stupid, its very existence should be a ruse just to find the names of people dumb enough to want it so they can be rounded up and put in camps. Likewise, the bicycle is pretty solid the way it is. You're not making it better by crossbreeding it with a Baby Bjorn and stomping around on two wheels crouched over like you're carting a load in your pants, looking to everyone like some brain-addled dingus who couldn't afford a whole bicycle.
All too often, a good time is brought to its knees by an invisible cloud of someone's colonic stankery. According to the actual U.S. government, meaning they looked into it, the average person passes between one and four pints of gas a day. Which isn't an average at all and is a very ridiculous way to state something, but it's what we have to work with. But, for those interested, four pints is almost two liters, so you're looking at a big ass bottle of Coke floating out of your backside every day. You know, if you're a high average average. That's a lot of ass bilge.
While a chosen few amongst us see farts as an opportunity to grab a lighter and put on a show, or time it just right so that you're performing the hadouken motion just as it erupts, others find them embarrassing and uncouth. It was for these people that fart-absorbing butt pads were invented.
The basic idea behind something like the Flat-D Flatulence Deodorizer is that you jam it down the back of your gitch and force your subterranean kisses through it, thus robbing them of their potency. However, if you've ever appreciated the shape of your ass or have enjoyed the dynamics of a fart in a bathtub as you feel it barreling forth like a slippery little trooper against the rushing waves, you'll start to wonder just how effective a stationary ass maxi pad really can be.
It's like you shit an actual brick.
In point of fact, they are not effective, as numerous reviews state. Maybe some of the dark wind blows through the filter and is neutralized, but like the dreary mist bringing forth horrors in that Stephen King movie, so too do your butt yawns tend to spread and encompass a vast swath of real estate. The only real way this idea could work would be if, instead of making it a pad for your underwear, it was more like a cigarette filter for your ass and you applied it directly to the hole, like some kind of deranged monocle right there at ground zero where nothing can escape, just looking out and getting fogged up every so often. But of course that's hardly practical and would likely require much more dexterous sphincter muscles than many of us have managed to develop.
And let's be honest, do you want to live in a world full of stink-free farts? Think before you answer and reflect on this little nugget -- remember that game from when you were a kid when some yahoo would suddenly lunge at you with fist raised and you'd flinch and they'd laugh and then hit you for real, only because you flinched, stating something like "Two for flinching"? And over time you developed this bizarre paranoia that any sudden movements were potentially from someone trying to trick or entrap you? And sometimes you'd get hit and other times not and you could never really trust what your brain was telling you was about to happen? That's what a fart pad does. You hear a fart and you're ready to react and then suddenly there's no stink. Well what the fuck? So you start getting paranoid every time you hear a fart because you never know if it's going to stink or not and the only way to tell is to breathe in and by then it's too goddamn late because you either smell it or you don't. There's no safe way to play the game at all, it's Russian ass roulette. Well that's not cool, people.
Don't you hate standing to bathe? God, what a hassle. First you have to stand and then, you know, continue to stand. But baths are a hassle, too, because water isn't constantly bombarding you, you're just wallowing like our friend the otter. If only someone could combine the thrill of not even needing muscle control with the convenience of running water. They did!
The horizontal shower finally provides you with all the facets of lazy bathing you never knew you needed while at the same time being remarkably close to waterboarding. You just lie on a stone slab while numerous jets of water assail you and, I dunno, I guess you wriggle around in a soapy puddle to get clean or whatever.
At $35,000, you'd expect the horizontal shower to lie you down in some warm water and make sweet, hygienic love to you, but that doesn't happen. Instead, you hop on what appears to be an autopsy table and let six shower heads soak you. How do you wash your hair? I don't know. Do you lie on your face to wash your ass, or do you kneel on that marble slab? What's the clearance on that thing before you hit your head? These questions and more!
If you need to lie down when bathing because opting to have gravity assist you in getting clean is too much of a burden, you may just want to invest in the services of a nurse who can come and sponge you clean in your own bed, or maybe just do away with bathing altogether, as it seems like you're not likely to be big on going outside much anyway.