One that, it should be pointed out, was foretold and parodied by GTA V years before the Launchpad was even a thing?

That GTA V teaser about a similar product aimed for literally dick-docking yourself to your social media wall actually raises some interesting points about the Launchpad's usage. Sure, I bet it's technically supposed to be for watching porn, although the logistics certainly leave a little to be desired. You know this as well as I do -- you did the little mental "but I'd have to crane my neck in a weird angle and the screen would be super hard to focus on" calculation, don't pretend that you didn't. But you know how porn goes. You click a link, then one thing leads to another, and suddenly, you're ten tabs into a Nicaraguan llama party. With a device that enables you to literally screw your, uh, device, you can fuck the entire internet. How long before you venture outside the xxx-rated sites and find yourself casually laying pipe to your Facebook wall? Maybe you'll experiment a little with Twitter. You might even discover that a certain sultry listicle-based comedy site can rub you in a way that feels so wrong, yet so right. Before long, your already existing internet dependency mixes with serial fuckery, until one tequila-infused Tuesday night you find yourself hate-fucking Breitbart.com.

Am . . . I taking this too far? I'm probably taking this too far. Maybe I should return my Launchpad. What do you mean, no refunds?

Do you love beer so much that it frustrates you that you can't just, for once, show beer your appreciation? Worry not, for as you can see in the above image, the fuckable beer can is here! (No, I don't know what that vampire one is doing there, either. Just go with the flow, friend, and maybe we'll make it out of this article with our sanity intact.)

Called Sex in a Can because of course it is, this fine product finally enables the man who really, really loves his beer to express said love in a way nature (never once) intended:

Amazon

Oh, I suppose the manufacturer could be going for some sort of discreetness factor with this. "Look, it's just a beer can -- everyone and their dad has those lying around." In this day and age of over-hopped microbrews with increasingly insane naming policies, even its product names like Lady Lager, Sukit Draft and, for some reason, O'Doyle's Stout aren't much of a giveaway of the products' actual nature. Then again, beer's not a particularly good choice for an inconspicuous product. The only believable locations to "casually" store beer cans are coolers and fridges, a.k.a. the last places you'll want your sex toy to be when you find yourself suddenly in need. Take one of these things to literally anywhere else, and you'll run a risk of someone grabbing this particular can by accident or "accident" and attempting to drink it, only to find himself face to face with a container of limp fake flesh that you may or may not have remembered to clean after last use.

Amazon

Or you could be like this guy, who took a Sex in a Can to his office in a cloud of "They'll never guess it's a sex toy, teehee!" hubris. He soon found that companies tend to frown on taking fucking beer cans to work, too.

So, no, I don't buy for a second that this is just a "ha-ha, no one will ever know" product. These things have precisely two target groups: People who want to fuck a beer can and don't care who knows it, and rednecks who buy them for their design values and don't realize the inherent irony in sticking their boner in tallboys.

That shoddy, seven-dollar piece of shit might technically classify as a gag gift ("Includes list of 50 reasons why it's better than a Man!"), but that doesn't get it off the hook; it's still a functional vibrator, and I will go to my grave believing that all those cheap-ass sex toys given around as "gag" gifts actually see way, way more use during cold, lonely nights than the giver intended. Yes, even that blow-up sheep you gave to Chad last Christmas. Especially the blow-up sheep.

Still, even eschewing all toys and being a responsible, vanilla adult doesn't necessarily let you off the stupid food-themed sex products hook. There's always a chance that, when you ask your partner if they have protection, they'll answer with a manic-sounding little giggle. Then, they launch into an uncomfortable torrent of jokes about their "hog" and how it's time to "pork," right up until they whip out the bacon condom:

J&D's

What I'm saying, people, is that in some cases it's perfectly acceptable to bite.

It's called Whiskey Dick, and it's a lube. A lube that supposedly tastes like whiskey. It's actually kind of impressive how many things the chaos deity that makes Whisky Dick manages to screw up here. There's the product name, which you'll recognize as the exact opposite of happy boner times that might require the presence of lube. There's the fact that someone wants you to mentally associate a strong liquor with the mucous membrane of your crotch area. There's the point that said someone actually thought whiskey would be an excellent taste for a lube, or that lube actually needs an artificial taste at all. Who uses lube for blowjobs? Mummies? Is this a butt-to-mouth situation, and if so, how the everlasting fuck does the artificial whiskey taste improve the situation?

Amazon

No, guys and gals, no. There's one reason for the existence of Whiskey Dick, and one alone: To provide sub-par whiskey dicksickles for hardcore winos who can't choose between their bottle and their hookup. That's a cynical freaking product. I'm impressed.