I can't believe the Misty Mate Pet Misting System got marked down 99.99999%. If there's one thing every animal loves, it's being enveloped by a robot that spits on them. This horrible device is exactly what cats will invent when they become smart enough to force information from one another.
According to the manufacturer's website, it's great for "dog houses, pet runs, horse stables, reptile enclosures, rabbit pens, bird cages or any play area for your pet." It requires one standard garden hose in case you ever wanted to say the words, "Yes, landlord, I agree that a running garden hose is a strange thing to have in a living room, but how else was I going to keep my bird or snake moist?" And did I read that part about horse stables correctly? The damn thing is the size of a cat carrier. How is that supposed to keep a horse cool? Do I clamp it onto the animal's face? I bet there's a reason no horse has never drowned from a lawn sprinkler being wrapped around its mouth-- it will fucking die of panic long before it gets that far. So... I guess I turn the mister upside down and hope my horse is smart enough to drag its penis through it? That doesn't sound safe. My research with off-brand Real Dolls shows that discount plastics and giant cocks are a dangerous, shrapnelly combination.
I'm confused. Where does a real beer pounding alpha male stud wear this button? On his Chili's vest? On his boyfriend's tennis bag? I didn't even know this product was available to the consumer market, much less priced at one penny. I thought you could only get a BEER POUNDING ALPHA MALE STUD pin by mailing in the code given to you by your mother when you ask her what a clitoris is.
In theory, I like this pin. It seems polite to warn everyone that you're going to fill yourself with liquor and dominate their girlfriends, but I think it should really be delivered on a tougher medium than metal button. For example, maybe a bundle of balloons or a t-shirt being worn by your parrot.
The market dropped out for Beanie Baby collectors more quickly than it dropped out for Japanese nuclear engineers. Today, both groups of people are left to deal with thousands of tons of waste, unsure how to get rid of it, and cursing the God that allowed it. It's so tough out there for Beanie Babies that DIPPY the Rabbit had to get a job as a breast implant.
From what I can tell, there's no "used" category when speaking about Beanie Babies. There's only "new" and "collectible." I think in this case, "collectible" means it hasn't been cried on yet. Or maybe it means that the paper heart hanging off its ear has been protected with a plastic case. It seems like that was a good investment since the "collectible" DIPPY is worth 50 cents, an incredible 5000% more than the "new" DIPPY. Out of curiosity, let's take a look at what a 10 pack of heart protectors costs.
Oh, shit. That's bad news for those ladies that invested in these, but I think I might have found an all new Beanie Baby money-making scheme. If you buy carefully packaged Beanie Babies that for decades have been lovingly cared for by lonely women, throw them in the trash and keep the label protectors, you make 20.5 cents per DIPPY. Even if one $0.57 garbage bag can only hold 30 DIPPYs, you're still making 18.6 cents a rabbit. Plus, the look on your garbage man's daughter's face will be priceless in 15 years when she hears the magic bag of treasure her father found at work is worth negative 7210 future bucks and she has to sit on space eggs after school to pay off their family's Beanie debt. "Will the misery of these Babies never end?" she might shout from the cramped space egg roost. And her only reply will be lasers, now and forever.
At the risk of impressing you, ladies, I don't know a lot about Beanie Babies collecting. The only thing I really know is that every time he hears a bean bag rattle, DIPPY's original owner's husband can't stand to look at her goddamn stupid dingbat face. So it's possible that DIPPY was an overly common one and some of the others have skyrocketed in value... let's look.
Oh, man. If you didn't mind filling your home of the fuzzy embodiment of a thousand lost housewife fortunes, you could buy every single Beanie Baby that was ever made for 40 cents. Think about that the next time you eat almost half of a candy bar.
Imagine a man gave you a 1" button with Dave Coulier's picture on it. That means he's going to kill you, right? Probably, but I'm not done. Imagine it's Dave Coulier's serious actor head shot above Uncle Joey's wacky catchphrase, "CUT IT OUT." Imagine this mysterious stranger expects you to keep careful track of the stupid button in a warehouse full of stupid buttons then make it available for Internet shoppers once whatever those are are invented. Imagine they ask you to do this for 17 years. What would seem like a reasonable fee for all that? Zero pennies? No, come on, he insists: one penny.
Oh, cool. They made one with John Stamos' head shot, and someone completely different has also priced it at $0.01. Cosmically speaking, if you're packing and mailing Full House pins for one cent in 2011, you're who the Universe fucks when it's drunk and no one else is picking up the phone. Every time a pigeon doesn't crap on you, it's because it all landed on the lady at the post office weighing an Uncle Jesse pin and telling the clerk she needs to insure it for up to one cent.
$0.03!? You don't even give me a discount if I buy all three!? This is bullshit. When I bought three Urkel pins they threw in a free wallet, two shoes and a dead forklift driver. When you work in a '90s sitcom novelty pin warehouse, that's the only way out.