Bunkarina and the Missus were at the 99¢ Store (where everything is cleverly priced at 99.9999¢ so they don’t have to rename it) and found this great display for readin’, writin’ & rigor mortis.
Time to start boning up for test time, kids.
Seems to me that it would’ve been cheaper to order a hamburger with a couple of toasted extra buns, but that involves a lot of planning and logistics, not to mention the aggravation of travel time.
I’d have sent it back because the beef is not on the left half side, just to see how the pizzaman resolved the problem without using Elmer’s. Of course, if I did that, pizzaman would block my phone number. Not worth it.
[Found here.]
I think it’s a male. [Found somewhere in here.]

[Found here.]
“Guys! Check it out! Babs just showed up with a Tootsie Roll and she’s chewing it! Dump your skanky dates, you’re missing the best part! Man oh man, look at her go!”
True Fact: Tootsie Roll, see, is the life of every party… for wherever Young America gathers… Its popularity is acclaimed by all.
Acclaimed by all 13 dweebs in the advert, that is. The next best thing, besides watching Babs seductively remove her fillings with a brown phallus-shaped wad of sugar, corn syrup, partially hydrogenated soybean oil, condensed milk, cocoa, whey, soy lecithin, orange extract, and artificial and condensed flavors, is an ether binge.
“Honey, it locked up again and I’ve gotta go, real bad.”
There’s something about designers who insist on taking a concept that works and trying to fix it. Just because it’s different, doesn’t necessarily make it better, and this is a great example.
Yeah, it looks cool, and it takes up less space than a regular bathroom with a toilet and a shower, but look closer at what it takes away.
Now, if it had a single button that springs everything into a usable configuration, that might be cool, except when the power goes out. In other words, it’s another great example of pure efficient genius.
[Found here, crossposted here, with a Tip o’ the Tarboosh to Snork.]
Occasionally while sniffing around the internest I’ll run across an image that jumps up and bites me right in the crackerbockles, and this is one of them. It’s a patent drawing for an invention technically referred to as a WTF, and is apparently designed with meth addicts in mind. That’s meth as in methane.
Of course there may be other explanations for this new addition to the wonderful world of plumbing abuse, but I’m not about to go all scatological here.
[Found somewhere in here, crossposted here.]
[Update 29 July 2010 – Here are the patent papers. Tip o’ the Tarboosh to Lemur King.]
It’s a house. It’s a very ugly house. It’s a very ugly house created for a competition by people who have no concept of aesthetics, let alone standard construction practices. Here’s a partial description justifying the brilliance of the design:
DISTRIBUTED INTELLIGENCE
Faced with the typical house model of a “box construction” made up of standard industrialized components, we chose to build a clever house with systemic logic components, rising into what we call a distributed intelligence. This means that each component of the prototype contains the same level of technology, energy, structural, etc… With this we say that the logic of all is found in each of the parts, and not vice versa.
That is, distributed intelligence can be understood as the development in fusion research systems and materials, implying a change of procedures, multi functionality in the construction field. Opening the possiblities of digital parametric design from the traditional assembly of standardized industrial components of the home-computer.
In other words, they’ve not only designed one of the ugliest dwellings ever imagined, they’ve invented a brand new lexicon to justify it. Archibabble at its worst. Phew.
To be fair, the design is clever in one respect, that the shape was generated based upon solar tracking, that is, a computer model engineered a shape that maximizes the amount of surface area that receives direct sunlight throughout the day and throughout the year, thus determining the configuration of the solar panels. Win.
Unfortunately, the maximum efficiency is compromised by site orientation, its global latitude, and, um, unpredictable cloud cover. And it’s ugly. Fail.
Whoa. Look what we’ve got here. A gen-u-ine Babe Magnet owned by someone who doesn’t know how to park. After much deliberation here at TR HQ, the vote was split 6 to 5 in favor of awarding the coveted title of BM to this large scale version of a 12-year old’s customized Revelle model of a 1973 Chevy Impala ragtop. Pure efficient genius.
The question comes down to what type of person would drive such a PullMeOverNow car? A teenager would love it, but that’s unlikely due to the lack of moola factor, and someone in their 30s wouldn’t be seen standing next to it. Early twenties with some serious expendable cash is as good a guess as any.
Unlike the other Babe Magnets we’ve dissected here, we know who the owner of this Tupperware-lid-wheeled ear of corn is. Without cheating, try to guess what he does for a living and how much he makes. Leave your assessment in the comments. The answer with links is below the break. Continue reading “Babe Magnet for a Johnson”