It's true that the idea of a whipped cream that can get you shitfaced is, on paper, a wonderful one. But have you ever tasted anything dairy-based that has alcohol in it? There are two ways that can go, and unless you're following a pre-existing recipe, there's a fair chance that your ouzo-yogurt experiment will wind up a curdled blob that you insist on naming the Royal Flush, despite the fact that it looks like hobo underpants and tastes like hobo feet.

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This is the one that alcoholic eggnog for Christmas comes from.

That's the score with Whipped Lightning: It manages to take the good things of whipped cream (sweetness, texture, ability to gorge on until it looks like you have a miniature iceberg coming out of your mouth) and the good things of alcohol (alcohol) and throw them all right out of the window. What's left is an ugly spray can filled with artificially flavored muck that tastes like chemicals and rubbing alcohol.

I'm guessing the taste aspect could probably be overlooked (by frat boys, if no one else) if this thing would work like shots and you could get loaded with just a few mouthfuls. But although 36.5 proof is by no means a bad toxicity score for a dessert frosting, this still leaves it with no more kick than, say, fortified wine. And I can't shake the feeling that even the most dedicated I-drink-because-I-hate-myself wino would seriously consider sobriety if the other option requires them to chug a wine bottle's worth of pressure-packed udder pudding that tastes like licking a hospital.

However, no amount of cluelessness on their owners' part manages to take away the fact that dogs are, indeed, awesome. Even if you're the sort of person who dresses their pup in colorful clothing and makes it wear a dog shit harness, it's extremely difficult to walk your dog in a park and look bad. Because you're hanging out with a dog, and that's awesome.

That is, unless you make your pet wear the Rear Gear.

Rear Gear
"Finally, I can take a picture with my dog's asshole without the stigma attached to taking a picture with my dog's asshole."

The Rear Gear is a flap that covers your pet's butthole, because those things just aren't natural. Strapping one on your dog (or cat, because you're a double sociopath) will instantly turn your beloved pet into the animal equivalent of those cringe-inducing cars with "wacky" bumper stickers. You know, the ones that you just know are driven by a complete and utter turdmonger? That's what your beloved animal companion looks like now.

I know what you're thinking: "I don't want anyone to see my dog's butthole, but I'm also afraid of flower stickers." Don't worry, there are PLENTY of non-flower butthole stickers for you, person I hope I never meet.

Rear Gear
As a comedy writer, I'm disproportionately pissed off because that award ribbon thing says #1.

Although your dog itself might be blissfully oblivious of the Rear Gear, I guarantee that the other dogs in the park will take up karate, just to save their owners the trouble of kicking you in the crotch.

Also, there's this: If you've ever been bothered by your dog's asshole so much that you feel the need to cover it, there's a chance it might be because you're spending way too much time staring at a dog's asshole.

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.

Photos.com
"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.

Pipedream
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.)