A dire warning

Not to be pessimistic or anything, but life basically consists of us making a big honkin' bonerrific heapin' heap of mistakes.  Take mine this morning.  I woke up with a bad headache, and decided - call it the folly of youth - to take headache medicine.

Now I had actually had this headache the night before, too, which meant I had already taken two pills in the last 24 hours.  Turns out that more than two aspirin tablets in a 24-hour period equals SERIOUSLY BAD JUJU, as evidenced by the following verbatim warning on the bottle:

"WARNING WARNING WARNING!!! Take more than 2 tablets in 24-hours and PERISH OF LIVER FAILURE OF THE LIVER, YOU FESTERING LITTLE WAD OF CAT-BOX DEPOSIT! Oh, wait, BWA HA HA, TOOOO LATE, because you ALREADY TOOK THE EXTRA PILLS!!!! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!! Ask a doctor if side effects occur."

Yes, well, I certainly learned MY lesson for the day, didn't I? Meanwhile, I'm spreading the word, so that those of you who can still be saved will know the dangers of ingesting medicine in order to feel better.  To think that this kind of thing can happen in America.

For those of you who work visually, here's a handy-dandy ...

Cautionary Guide to the UNSPEAKABLE HORRORS THAT WILL APPEAR ON YOUR LIVER

... if you take more than 2 aspirin tablets in 24 hours, you fool:

After 3 pills:

4 pills:

5 pills:

6 pills:

Just my little public service announcement for the day.  I consider it giving back to the community.  Happy new year.

Addendum: plush carnage, continued

Regarding the previous post:

My sister alerted me to the following heartwarming description Build-a-Bear provides of the "Stingray Snacks Set":

"Teddy bear size plush stingray snacks include a plush crab, squid and shrimp. The perfect meal for your stuffed stingray!"

(My sister: "What is WRONG with these people?!")

Cue theme from "Jaws":

If You Don't Have This, You're Not Cool: Special Season's Belated Greetings! edition

Merry belated Christmas, everyone!

(Hey, check out that hairy stub of arm underneath, huh? Don't bother thinking of that puppy while you're eating.)

Yes, there's always a certain feeling of letdown once the big day has come and gone.  Fortunately, we're left with the tender afterglow of the holiday spirit, also defined as "continued readiness to vivisect the Chipmunks personally, if asked."

Note to PETA-types: We at The Snark Ascending do not in any way endorse cruelty to animals, except maybe for that one time the hermit crab we got for our friend's birthday party pinched the living shit out of our eight-year-old hand, whereupon we fantasized for YEARS afterwards about consigning the little monster to a Cuisinart.  However, we are sure the rage will abate once we regain feeling in our hand.

Now, do NOT click on this.  We're WARNING you.  We said, DON'T CLICK.  ... BWA HA HA!!! TOO LATE, SUCKER!!! The URGE TO CLICK is BORING a BIG HOLE into your BRAIN.  ENJOY THE VOCAL STYLINGS OF THE LITTLE BASTARDS, YOU FOOL!!!!!!

Disclaimer: We're sorry we had to do that.

Meanwhile, in the interest of stimulating the economy* via after-Christmas sales, I'd** like to direct your attention to the following funky little items, which really exist and are brought to you by the Build-a-Bear Workshop.  They were brought to my attention by my resourceful sister, who sent me an email entitled "Exceptionally bad taste."  I quote:

"They've [Build-a-Bear] been manufacturing a stingray doll, and the other day I was just minding my own business when I found an accessory for it, which... well, I think I'll just show you the page, rather than describe it."

Behold: The STINGRAY SNACKS SET (3 pc.)

"Howdy doody!" say these cute crustaceans, which must be the most adorable invertebrates not currently employed by the Department of Comparative Literature.***  "Please devour us whole! We'll smile while you do it!"

I believe my sister spoke for millions of current and former children when she said: "All I can say is that this definitely would have bugged me when I was little."  That's why I'm making your next-year's gift-giving just that much easier by suggesting, here and now, -- and feel free to thank me monetarily any time you like -- that you buy up a set of Stingray Snacks, if not several, and save them up for that special child you hate.  Preferably one who sounds like the Chipmunks.

And if you're into vegetarianism, might I suggest this little martyr from my friends at Urban Outfitters (motto: "we also sell keychains shaped like anthropomorphized bodily functions!")

I'd go on, but I'm pretty sure I've ruined enough future meals already.  Happy holidays! And tune in next time for our special feature on seemingly innocent items that could probably kill you, okay?

* Excerpt from the forthcoming novel Tangible Assets of Passion: "Brant gazed at Camilla, his macroeconomic policy positively throbbing with horizontal equity, and moaned as she began, with pure unadulterated compound interest, to stimulate his economy."

** Because we are now in the singular, on those occasions when I feel like it.

*** This is a department in which you compare literature to things, as in: "This literature reminds me of a snowblower."  (YOUR PROFESSOR: "Yes, go on.  Unpack that for me in terms of its dialectical functionality.")

©2010 Nicola McEldowney

Vive la marionnette

Yes, I'm preparing for finals and all that, but I break for important news.  By which I mean, "puppet smut."

On which note, this just in, from a company selling puppets.  I want to stress that (a) this is a professional enterprise and (b) I reprint this verbatim.

"Choose From:

Dual Entry Full/Half Body Puppets: Enter in through the bottom of the torso for behind the stage use, or through the back for vent-style use. Great for audiences of 250 or less.

Single Entry Removable Legs Puppets: [...] May be a little harder to operate for small puppeteers. Entry only through the bottom makes it a bit harder to use when not behind the stage."

It so happens that they're selling these for ministry purposes, but obviously I wouldn't be unwise enough to mention that.

I'd rather be snarking

Mes chers, I'm swamped beyond belief with finals prep.  Please forgive the cyber dust balls piling up here. Meanwhile, my brain bulges outward comically, Warner Brothers-style, with suppressed Snarks.  I'll dispense them as soon as I get out of here for winter break.  Like around Christmas.  Again, my apologies.

If You Don't Have This, You're Not Cool Either: Special Double-Header Barbie Toilet Edition

In all my excitement over the shaveable baby (see the post below at your own risk), I totally forgot about the Barbie toilet.  You know how that can happen.

I've actually been saving this one up for a good day.  Because -- well, I don't usually like to get too introspective, but I'll be honest with you: I have very strong feelings about Barbie toilets.  This is notable, because I don't have very strong feelings about very many topics.  Here is an exhaustive list of the other exceptions to the rule:

• bubble tea
• comical names
• the arts
• coconut bubble tea

Just try to imagine the transports of joy my soul knew when I saw THIS baby (on the upper right).  Go on.  Imagine them!

I remember the moment so clearly.  It was at Toys 'R' Us, in Times Square.  I considered this one of those occasions that necessitates a call home:

ME (delirious with glee): eeeeeeee oogyoogyoogyoogyBARBIETOILEToogyoogyoogy eeee eeee eeeeee!
MY MOTHER: Who is this?

And let that be a lesson to all you parents who complain that your college-age kids never call to tell you about their Defining Life Events.

Naturally, this raises a number of troubling questions that we must ask ourselves, as academics and as advocates of the Barbie toilet:

• Can Barbie actually pee? Out of where exactly, given that her loiny parts consist of underpants that are ACTUALLY PART OF HER BODY?
• Does Ken ever leave the seat up? Does she get mad and throw Barbie shoes at him?
• Did you ever get "experimental" as a kid and switch Barbie and Ken's heads?

Anyway, I actually ended up forgetting all about the Barbie toilet -- at least until the other day when my friend Paige and I were riding the subway home, whereupon we saw someone taking home Barbie's Dream House:

You can't really see it too well in this picture -- and I couldn't find a really good one -- but there's a little white toilet in the upper left room, behind the tub.  It's advertised on the box as going "WHOOSH."

Now I can't say I'm as wholehearted a fan of this little number (I'm into sparkly pink) but Dream Commode here does have one extreme advantage, namely, that of going "WHOOSH."  Scoff if you must, but can YOUR toilet do that? Oh.  Right.  Well, I suppose you think that makes you SPECIAL or something.

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS FOR INTELLECTUALS:

1. Do you suppose the WHOOSH mean it actually flushes, or is this one of those sorry cases of "talking the talk" without "walking the walk"? Could you flush a Barbie shoe down it? How about a Ken head? Explain.

2. Do you suppose Barbie ever used the Dream Commode for the purpose of giving her little sister, Skipper, a "swirlie" in a moment of rage?

3. Give the poor woman a break.  She has underpants for loins.

Shave the day

There's no sense denying it.  All of us, at some point or another, have woken up and said to ourselves : "Gosh darn it.  All my life, I've suffered from the gnawing pain of the soul that can only result from the lack of a good baby to shave."

None of us should have to suffer any longer.  The Chinese toy industry understands that.  They have heard our cries, and responded:

I was alerted to this revolutionary item by reader Steve, to whom I am much indebted.  It's not every day you find a shaveable baby of this caliber.  Thank goodness Asia saw fit to provide us one.  In the West, you just TRY finding such a quality item outside of your hoity-toity high-end snottypants shaveable baby retailer such as Bergdorf Goodman or Harrods.

I'm glad I could relieve your pain.