Monthly Archives: September 2010

The Sharper Image of the Skies – Part 1

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One of the twin roomies and I took a flight en route to a very relaxing trip in Austin, Texas this past weekend. Despite being in the FML boarding group for our flight we lucked out and were able to get seats together. Before we even buckled our seat belts our eyes locked with the back seat pocket and we both exclaimed the following two words in unison: “Sky Mall.”

Sky Mall is the standard in flight magazine filled with a bunch of gadgets and ideas that either leave you shaking your head in disgust with America’s laziness, upset that people are capitalizing off of your laziness or angry with yourself that you never put the patent on self-cleaning diapers when you had the chance.

This is a three part series on some of the more ridiculous things I found in the summer 2010 edition of Sky Mall:

Part One: 3 Signs You No Longer Love Your Pets

Tell Whiskers I said good luck on her diving mission. I don’t know many felines who are big fans of water–let alone being submerged thousands of feet beneath sea level–but damn she’s brave.

Wait never mind. Are you shooting her off into space? I’m sorry I couldn’t tell because apparently you thought it was okay to put your cat in some type of claustrophobic piss pod. Pooping is an uncomfortable action that in an ideal situation is done in a comfortable setting. If the cat is trained to use the litter box then why make it more uncomfortable? They couldn’t even photoshop a happy looking cat into this photo.

Embedded sprinklers? Water timer? This is entirely too much maintenance when a walk outside of your building would suffice. If you were too lazy to take the dog for a walk what makes you think you’re going to clean that $300 dookie turf you just bought? I will laugh when Sir Woofs-a-Lot rolls around in a concentrated piss mat because he doesn’t–and shouldn’t–get the memo that this is supposed to be the equivalent of a walk outside.  This was the third one of these in the same magazine, FYI. (By the way, I would never name my dog Sir Woofs-a-Lot–especially if I tossed this magazine to leave it and he ran up quick to retrieve it).

If you potty train your cat before your own child you kind of deserve to have your child taken away. The child won’t be removed permanently, mind you, but just long enough for you to get your head straight.

If you agree to own a cat, you are making a verbal agreement with your conscience that you will be scooping crap on a consistent basis. That’s part of the deal. Remember that you’re the one who thought the companionship was worth a shit (pun intended).

Also you’re just creating even more competition for the bathroom in the morning before work. If they figure out the toilet they’ll start figuring out other things like door knobs and even worse, door locks.

Perhaps if you hadn't fed me that generic Fancy Feast you would have caught your train