More Mindless Stories on ‘harriet carter’

Harriet Carter Wednesday: Wipe Your Feet on the Whoremat Please!

Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday to you and yours. Some people have been emailing me and asking questions like, “But IBBB, why has Harriet Carter Wednesday sometimes moved to Thursday?” I answer in love and light by saying, “I ask the questions around here. Now cut the crap before I call the cops.” This week, Harriet gives whores a voice and makes peeing on your friends and/or enemies more fun than ever. Let’s go!

Product # 1 – How many of us have walked down the street, saw the town whore, and thought to ourselves, “Hmmm, I wonder what she’s getting at? Is she just sending me mixed signals?” I know I ask that to myself whenever I go whore-hunting. Well now thanks to the Harriet Carter doormat there is no need to try and decipher mixed messaging any longer. This doormat is clearly giving you a message that says, “Come inside….my box.” No really it does. I think it’s pretty polite actually. Sometimes you go to enter “a house” and you’re not really sure if you’re supposed to actually come inside or wait out front until you see a familiar face. A couple of times I even would have to come around the back just to see if anyone was home. And don’t even get me started that one time I was do drunk that I started to come inside but then started to fall asleep and never even made it inside the front door. Boy was that embarrassing! I once knew this girl whose parents were really Catholic and they never let anyone ever come inside her house so she ended up sneaking out at all hours of the night and got herself pregnant. Those Catholics. Geesh! They even try to convince you that surprising you up the back door is better than going straight in the front. Religion. It’s confusing. So anyway, folks, the next time you’re not quite sure how to end your “visit” just check the doormat to see if there’s an instructional message if you can come inside the box or not. Since we’re talking about boxes, this also make the perfect holiday gift for that homeless person who lives in one by the train station that you see every morning on your way to work. Oh and in case we weren’t all clear on the matter, I’m making 5th grade sex jokes. All caught up? Fantastic.

Product # 2 – Ready to make pissing a whole lot more fun? Do you think heading to your office bathroom is getting just a bit, you know, boring? Has your anger towards a co-worker almost gone from hatred to sexy boom boom? Well if you answered, “Teddy Ruxpin!” to any of these questions does Harriet have the item for you! Introducing the “Urinal Cake Photo Screen.” Ole! All you need to do is find a picture of your favorite arch nemesis (mine, of course, would be one Ms. Bindi Irwin) and then walk into your public work bathroom, use your hands to lift out the filthy disease-filled urinal cake holder, place it on the sink, whip out your picture, measure it, measure the urinal cake holder, cut it, take out some glue, place the glue on the back of the picture, press the picture firmly on the urinal cake holder, pull up a chair, sit and wait 45 minutes for it to dry, place it back in the urinal and then begin to urinate all while laughing for upwards of 45 seconds until the picture gets wet, starts to curl, the ink starts to run, and your fun ends before the minute is up and that one guy who takes loud sh*ts in the stall next to you awkwardly comes out of the stall, give you a nod, and then leaves without washing his hands. Phew, that was a mouthful! So this may make sense for a quick laugh if you, you know, had a urinal in your own private home but let’s face it, that doesn’t exist. So you’re forced to try out this new schtick at work. Should I alert HR of your firing now or just wait until you actually complete the task at hand? Wow. First picture urinal cakes and next thing you know women will be buying Tampons with Bin Laden’s head at the tip! I chose him because of, you know, the white turban and all. I thought it would just be a good fit, figuratively and literally. Thanks Harriet for even making pissing an all around hoot!

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: Sometimes Thursday is Wednesday Too

Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday. Even though HCW only comes but once a week I feel like I’m trash-bag-status enough for every day to be HCW. In fact, I’m currently writing congress to make this a national holiday. I’m not quite sure what any of this means, but what I do know is that this week Harriet sends mixed messages to your co-workers and helps even the dumbest skanks (and those who love them) find their “happy place.” Let’s go!

Product # 1 – Ever wonder why all these companies are shutting their doors after 50+ years of business? Sure some of it is because of….well….um…I don’t know…something the housing market did? I’m not quite sure as the majority of my attention over the past few years has been focused on The Hills and Jersey Shore, but I’m also pretty sure that it’s because “workers” are slackers in 98% of the cases. Introducing the “Cubicaller Doorbell!” So the next time you’re busy at “work” checking Facebook, planning your next trip, raising fake animals on Farmville, and reading IBBB you certainly don’t want to be taken by surprise so, clearly, you need Nosey Nicole who sits next to you to ring your new cubical doorbell. This gives you plenty of notice to quickly hit “Alt F4” or simply pull the plug from your sex-box-machine. Enjoy such fancy doorbell noises like, “bird call,” or “alien laser,” or perhaps even the popular “funky drum,” you know, whatever the hell that’s supposed to be. I’m hoping I can record some of my own sounds or phrases like, “I could care less that your kid is selling wrapping paper to raise money for their Catholic school tuition. I have my own financial mess to deal with.” Or maybe even something like, “Buzz. I know it looks like I’m sitting here working, but in reality I’ve been mentally checked out since we moved offices in late 2006. Leave a message. Beep.” And finally who can’t resist the most popular, “If I wanted to go to yet another office birthday cake celebration I’d be as big as the receptionist, fat ass.” Thanks, Harriet, for helping me find yet another way to, you know, not do work and just have fun at my desk. Every day is like a friggin fiesta with you. Trash heap.

Product # 2 – Hey ladies, is your husband/partner/dog (who tends to enjoy licking up peanut butter from odd places) having a hard time finding your “tender vittles?” Do you usually feel like you’re doing “the banging” with Lewis and Clarke and yet they still can’t find the great American West even though they brought along a map, Sacajawea and her infant son? Well if you answered, “I’m a slam-pig” to any of these questions the medical experts at Harriet Carter have finally invented a product for even the whoriest of whores. Feast your eyes (and possibly fingers) on the “G-Spot Stimulating Gel” that comes with the official the “Find It” Guide. I’m not sure what “it” is, but let’s all assume we ain’t (ai-not) talking about the pot of gold at the end of skanky rainbow. Who needs to even test this when right on the “guide” it has a ringing endorsement that says, “Ooooh! That’s it!” I believe them because they’ve used a lot of “o’s” and even two exclamation points. Apparently when you squirt this into your tropical rainforest a pink heart sprouts from between your legs. I’m not sure if that acts like a cork when you try to pee but, hey I’m no doctor and I don’t claim to be 76% of the time. According to the description, they’re bragging that this product is “Menthol free” so I’m pretty sure that means that it’s safe to smoke? Either that or it helps cure a sore throat. Again, not a certified doctor. You can use this product, however, a total of 40 times (or 20 times if your partner is as intuitive as Helen Keller). I have to be honest; I really want to see what’s in that “guide.” Is it like the map from Dora the Explorer? I’ll assume a “map to the G-spot” consists of a bottle of wine, diamond earrings, and compliments like “Did you lose weight” and “I really appreciate all that you do for me.” At the same time, who am I kidding? I could barely make it to the Oregon Trail (and I was a banker from Boston!) so I’m going to need that “guide” along with a video and, most likely, a 24-hour customer service hotline.

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: Leave it to Other People to Beat the Bag Out of Your Kid

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Yeah it’s Harriet Carter Wednesday, what’s it to you?  I’ve received a ton of emails over the past few months wondering where Harriet has been.  I typically answered with, “None of your business.  Do I come to your house and ask your mother where her looks went?”  Obviously that is the opposite of a rhetorical question.  Anyjunk, Harriet was probably vacationing in one of the Slavic countries, getting her face filled with mayonnaise and sugar water that’s been left out in the hot sun for two months, just so she can save on climbing Botox costs.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, this week Harriet protects your rack whilst driving and gives your son another reason why he’s getting the bag beat out of him during  5^th period math.  Let’s go!

Product # 1 – Since I model my life after one Blessed Mother Oprah Winfrey (of the Nazarene Winfrey’s) I’ve decided to bring her “No Phone Zone” pledge  to the next level.  As you know, the “No Phone Zone” pledge  is urging people to stop texting whilst driving.  Yawn.  I mean, who can’t do two things at once?  It’s called multitasking while endangering.  Ever heard of it?  Anyway, I’m in the process of writing to Oprah to bring, “No Saggy Boobs While Driving” pledge to the masses.  Thanks to the pathetic sick pervs over at the Harriet Carter Institute of Performing Arts (HCIPA), you can now make sure that when you’re driving your rack is standing at attention.  Basically, you’re driving with 4 sets of headlights, so you better get safe and get safe quick.   The poor floppy boobed woman in the before photo is so “saggin’ in the wind” that she’s actually getting struck by what I can only assume is lightning while she’s just trying to get from Point A to Point B.  In the “before” example she’s not taking the “No Saggy Boobs While Driving” pledge seriously at all.  However, she must have had a change of heart because in the “after” photo her rack is acting as her co-pilot (move over Jesus – don’t hurt me).  But, let’s face it.  During long drives your bobbies-aba-doolies are going to get tired and, well, they’re going to want to rest for a little bit.  Luckily this contraption also has a strap on the bottom that will hold your female companions in place like an illegal immigrant on the side of the road selling a wide, yet rotten, array of fruit.  I honestly have no idea what in the holy hell I’m talking about.  Anyway, join the pledge, write Oprah, and stay safe while driving.  Also, drive fast and take chances.

Product # 2  – Hey parents!  Are you afraid of giving your kid the beating of his/her life because of that pesky little rule that basically says that DSS will stop on by for tea, cake, and ownership of your children?  Well, worry no more because Harriet Carter is now making giving your kid a beating a lot easier and won’t even “dirty” your hands.  Introducing “Silly Straw Glasses!”  Little Herman will be taking punches from all the kids in his class once he starts sporting these shades!  Silly Straw Shades are just as silly and wonderful as they sound.  Simply put on these 5 pound plastic (probably shellacked with lead paint) glasses-contraption on your pimply face, strap it around your Dumbo ears, and then let the end of the tube sit in your high-fructose-corn-syruped-fruit-punch (fat ass) and enjoy your drink.  I mean, it should totally take you a total of 15 minutes to get ready to drink 8 ounces. (big friggin’ baby).  Little Herman didn’t make is bed before he went to school?  No worries, just pack these Silly Straw Shades with him and send him on his way.  The beating will be waiting for him by the time he shows up for homeroom.  And I’m sure all you parents will love having to clean this contraption as it comes apart in “5 pieces for hand-washing.”  Hand-washing?  Like a cave person?  Oh and you know a fight is totally going to break out when Little Herman is looking for “part # 3” and can’t find it anywhere.  He’ll have to drink out of the glass, you know, like a normal 10 year old boy.

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: Well, well, well. Look What the White Trash Cat Dragged In.

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Uh, Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday?  Uh, where have you been?  I’ve been here the whole time.  Ok fine, you caught me.  I’ve taken a little break from the wondrous world of “House of Carter” because of The Hills recaps.  Trust me, it was like “Sophie’s Choice” for me.  I mean, personally I think Sophie should have ditched both kids and built a single rich life for herself, but that’s another story for another time for another blog for other readers for other thoughts.  Know what I mean?  I don’t.  Anyway, this time around Harriet is helping you stop giving oral pleasure and wiping your arse with a stick contraption.  What?  All normal.  Let’s go!

Product # 1 -  White-trash ladies in the audience, are you not quite married yet but are ready to hang up your “mouth gift” to your partner?  Tired of bobbing for hot dogs and just want to get a good night sleep?  Well if you answered “I’m a quitter” to any of these rhetorical questions does Harriet Carter have the perfect excuse for you!  Introducing the “Nellie-Olsen-Wig-Chin-Strap-Jaw-Clench-Face-Mask 3000!”  So the next time your boyfriend is asking for a little south of the border action you can simply tell him your chin strap makes it hard to melt his popsicle, in fact the oxygen mask prevents your entire face from doing anything at all.  Perhaps he can play in your backyard?  Either way, at least you’ll be getting a good night sleep.  I mean sure he’ll be dry humping you in what I can only assume is a flannel nightgown with lace trim around the collar that zips all the way up to your neck, but you’ll be catching a handful of “Zzzzz’s” while he’s catching a handful of blue balls.  And, let’s face it, if you’re wearing any of this to bed you’re already given the impression that you’ve given up on sexy nights anyway.  Because if your pillow talks consists of any of the following phrases the romance is dead:  chin strap, plug in my oxygen mask, CPAP, improved airflow, apnea, and/or adjustable strap (unless he’s into that, in which we’ll need to have a different conversation).

Product # 2 – I mean at this point just stand up, bend over, and give sh*t kisses to your bathroom wall, no? After about a month it will look like an artistic mural and you’ll be all the rage around your neighborhood.  Or so I’ve heard…from a friend….I’ve never done this myself….not even drunk.  When you reach “garbage bag” on your “Lazy-Ass-o-Meter” and even wiping your filthy bum-bum seems like a chore now you can use your plastic stick to clean up things allllllll the way back there.  Simply place some tissue on your bum-wiping-contraption and then….then…well then you….I believe you…..do you put it between your legs and come out the other end in a scooping motion?  I have no idea.  Perhaps you go behind your back like a back scratcher and then just start slapping?  Maybe you suction cup it to the bathroom floor and then stand up and start doing squats over it?  It’s really hard to decipher and, well, I’m not a doctor or even smart for that matter so I’m not really sure how it works.  All I know is that it (1) looks like it hurts (2) might get you pregnant and (3) pretty much is a sh*t stick.  And is this dishwasher safe?   I hope so because the thought of washing this contraption by hand really makes me upset.  Whatever happened to the good old fashion days of using your hand to, you know, wipe yourself or just opening the door a crack and screaming at the top of your lungs “I’m doooooooooone!” until someone comes up and takes care of this mess for you?  That’s the way I still roll.  I mean, sure, most times no one comes to wipe me and, well, I’ve been stuck on my toilet for days, but once in a while you will get someone to answer your call and the look on their face is all worth it.

Well that concludes another Harriet Carter Wednesday.  I really figured smut and poop jokes was really the right way to kick things off, per usual. Spread the word! And other things if you want.

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Harriet Carter Day: Fun with Food!

Happy Harriet Carter Day.  I say “day” because this week Harriet graces us with her “presents” on Thursday instead of Wednesday.  Hey oh!  You can blame shows like The Hills and The City for taking up a majority of my time.  Thanks Heidi.  Anyway, this week Harriet has fun with delivery and helps you save money on vet bills by curing your pets on your own!  Let’s go!

Product # 1 – “Oh hey!  Thanks for inviting my to your party!  I made you a bunch of grilled food like hot dogs , hamburgers, and corn….and then I put all that greasy food into a dirty, sticky, leather bag…..and now I want you to eat it…..out of the hot leather bag….the food….not wrapped up…..just thrown in that bag….eat it….now.  Thank you.”  Gross.  And you totally know that the person who brought that bag-o-food is going to serve it to you with their dirty rotten hands.  They probably just gave their dog a bath (who was sprayed by a skunk) all whilst smoking a pack of Camel cigarettes and never even washed their hands once.  Enjoy the dog hair and ashes in your burger.  Burp.  And why does the “after” picture contain food items that were not even packed in the bag, like chicken, a roll, lettuce, tomato, and pickles? Where the hell did he pull those out of?  Yuck, probably an emptied out flashlight like Bobby and Cindy Brady did when they fed franks and beans to that runaway Indian boy at the Grand Canyon.  I bet.

Product # 2 – Having a hard time making ends meet?  Trying decide if you can afford Gatorade instead of “Stop-n-Shop Sports Drink: Red.”  Well thanks to Harriet Carter and the people from what I can only assume is the humane society, you can now save money by treating your ill dogs and cats in the comfort of your very own home!  Presenting a “Knew York Tymes” Best Seller, “Low Cost Natural Cures for Your Dog and Cat Your Vet Doesn’t Want You to Know!”  So, huh, what’s this book about?  I don’t get it.  Has your dog been puking since last Tuesday?  Check out Tip #29 in the book titled: Shoot Him!  Has your cat been limping when he/she walks up and down the stairs?  Try Tip # 4: Flush It!  Now we’ve all had this happen:  Can’t seem to get that tinsel out of your dogs bum bum after he ate almost the entire Christmas tree?  Why not give Tip #52 a whirl, “Go Get the Matches Because Sparky is About to Jump!”  Did your cat just pass its 9th life and hasn’t moved in 2 months?  Try our kid-friendly Tip #101, “With String, a Fishing Pole, and Tooth Pics in the Eyes, Your Cat Can Live Forever!”  Why bother explaining death to your little ones with a real “work-around” like this!?  And finally, if you’re like me and can’t seem to get your dog to “go potty” on the newspaper square, simply act out Tip # 9, “Cut Off Its Ding Dong and Toss It in an Abandon Field, Lorena Bobbitt Style!”  Just think of all the money you’ve saved from the vet with these easy to do at home fixes!  (Editors Note: Don’t try any of this at home, stupid).

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Harriet Carter: Sleepy Time Wednesday

It’s the happiest Harriet Carter Wednesday in all of the land!  And by “land” I, of course, mean “white trash dwellings.”  Kudos to me for using the word “dwelling” in this here crapbag blog for the first time in almost 4 years.  Harriet teaches.  Anygarb, this week Harriet sings “Noni Baby” to a sleepy little tike named Failure Model Chick and helps some Level Three bust the windows out his car, probably to escape the police chase.  Let’s go!

Product # 1 – Shhhh!  Let’s use our indoor voice because Failure Model Chick is so sleepy, but she just can’t seem to catch any winks.  Ho hum.  It’s exhausting being FMC, I’m sure.  I mean one day you’re on top of the world filming scenes for A&E’s Intervention (true story) and the next day you’re in a photoshoot wearing see-thru dickies for the Harriet Carter catalog.  Some say Angelina Jolie is the hardest working woman in showbiz, but I beg to differ.  I mean, I of course think that Jodie Sweetin is the hardest working woman in the biz, but in a close second is Failure Model Chick.  Just look at the sleepless beauty.  It’s like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders…and, well, just below her shoulders too.  I am, as always, referring to her rack-attack.  Good luck sleeping on your stomach with those bombs. If you do, make sure to turn off your ceiling fan or you’re likely to chop up your back in the middle of the night.  Now where was I?  Oh yes, nobody wants FMC to sleep in heavenly peace more than me.  Well, I’m sure the devil does, but besides him, I do too.  If only there was some kind of diarrhea brown colored Velcro that you could slap around your wrist to help cure insomnia.  Oh, there is?  Que suerte!  Apparently all you need to do is place this onto your wrist and in 3….2….1 you’ll be sleeping like a baby, a baby who craps themselves in the middle of the night and needs to be woken up every 2.5 hours for a feeding.  Please note, when wearing this insomnia curer, be sure to be like FMC and go to bed with a face full of makeup on, as the coke that was more than likely consumed just hours before you bought this contraption is likely to cause your trained cat to call 911 when you haven’t woken up in 3 days and, well, you’re going to want to look your best when the paramedics arrive and try to give you the breath of life.  If you’re FMC every moment is like a potential casting call and it should be for you too! I only have one thing left to say.  Welcome home, Failure Model Chick, welcome home.

Product # 2 – Level Three’s, Level Three’s whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when the cops come for you?  Well finally there’s an answer to that age old question.  When you’re in high pursuit (non trivia related) from the 5-0 and you’ve been circling around the school yard since Monday you’re going to need a fast escape from your car, especially when you’re boxed (giggity) in.  Well, if your car looks more like a window seat in a 747, like in this picture, all you need to do is use this handy-dandy device to shatter your window into a million little pieces.  And look how brave this Level Three is?  He’s not even trying to protect his eyes one bit from the shattered glass.  I’m sure all his focus is on protecting his ding dong so he doesn’t compromise his diddling endeavors in the near future.  I’ve written about a similar device years ago, but this one seems even better because it attaches to your key-chain….which means you can bring it everywhere you go and, well, I plan on it!  Forget the boring car escape, I can’t wait to bring it to the mall!  When I’m about to leave The Gap and an employee says to me, “Have a nice day, sir.”  I’m going to reply back with, “Sir!?!?!?!” and then I’m going to use my key-chain to shatter their front window and walk out into the mall that way.  Doors are for losers.  Next up, when I’m sitting on a plane and waiting for us to roll up to the gate, when I hear the flight attendant say, “Please remain seated until the captain turns off the seat belt sign.”  I’m going to reply back with, “Captain?  What are we on a boat?  Make me sit here, biiiiiiitch!” and then I’ll use my key-chain to shatter the window and shimmy out the plane and onto the runway.  See you in baggage claim, losers!  Finally, I plan on bringing this to the bank with me. That’s right.  I’m sorry, bank teller, I can’t seem to hear you through that protective glass that separates me from you.  Let me just quickly grab my key-chain and shatter that glass so we can have an adult conversation and talk about my banking transactions.  Free checking?  Don’t mind if I do!

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: Seamless Dump Catchers

Oh hi.  I didn’t see you there.  Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday.  Thank you for coming.  Take off your coat.  Perhaps, your pants?  Get comfortable, but not so comfortable that you start farting and junk.  Nobody needs that around here.  Class it up because this week Harriet has finally bedazzled a shirt for Snooki and keeps your private business high fashion.  Let’s go!

Product # 1 – “Harriet Carter Seamless Dump Catchers: Because When You’re Pissing Your Pants, Fashion is Still a Priority.“  When you’re waiting in the 10 Items or Less line and you start, literally, shatting your pants you don’t want the people behind you to notice any seams on your underpants, do you?  Dooooo you? How mortifying!  I mean sure in about 45 seconds the back of your pants is going to look like you’re smuggling grapes out of the supermarket, but you are still a lady after all and the last thing you’ll want to deal with is seams.  I mean, seams?  Gross!  Well thanks to the head fashionista over at House of Carter, you can now piss up to 5 ounces in your brand new seamless underpants!  Check out the description.  I know when I’m buying underwear I want to see such descriptive phrases like: “whisper-quiet waterproof vinyl,” “excess liquid,” “polyester gusset,” and “5 ounces.”  One time I remember waiting in line to pay for my underwear and I saw that it actually only said “4 ounces” and so I put them back on the shelf and walked out of the store with 2 middle fingers in the air and piss dripping out of my pant leg.  Oh, and of course these “dump catchers” are made in the USA.  Of course they are.   Because this is what we make here in the US.  Let’s not focus on electronics or good cars like China does.  Oh no, no.  Let’s perfect whisper-quiet waterproof vinyl panties.  Seriously, save your money, put a cork in it and call it a day.  Thanks, Harriet, for making doing boom boom whilst on the run, couture.

Product # 2 – Why did they even bother hanging up that mess of a t-shirt?  If they wanted to show an accurate depiction they would have just rolled it in a ball next to a bed with about 10 open condom wrappers, an empty 6-pack of Zima, 2 rainbow colored Troll dolls, and an empty carton of Misty 120’s because that is exactly the type of person who’s going to wear a bedazzled t-shirt that says, “Screw the Cracker, Polly Wants a Cocktail.”  Really?  Why do I have a feeling that this is the most seen t-shirt around the lobby of Foxwoods Casino?  It’s because the answer is, “It is.  It is.”  And why the hell are parrots drinking anyway?  And why are you promoting bird drinking and quite possibly even bird anorexia?  What a real shame.  Real shame, real shame.  Real shame.

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: The One With the Spring Repeat

Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday!  Similar to “Must See TV” if it’s new to you it’s not a repeat.  Therefore I present you with a little Harriet Carter review from yesteryear.  Technically yesteryear is 10 months prior to “days of yore.”  Anyway, it’s too nice outside to be reading this so, well, don’t.  Ok fine, do.  But then go right outside and go for a run…or a hooker.  Let’s go!

Product # 1 – Hey Disgusting! How are you? Are you kidding me with this? THIS is exactly what I’m talking about when I say that dogs are gross and their owners just don’t see it. I don’t care what you say, it’s true. This “lady” is washing her filthy dog that licks other dogs bums (haha dog bums), drinks out of the toilet, and eats its own puke right in the sink. Then, it’s time to wash the baby….in the same tub. Mmmmm clean and sanitary. My favorite! But the fun and disgust doesn’t stop just there. Next up this lady apparently gets naked and then washes her hair over the sink because, clearly, walking her fat ass to the shower is too much work. Although it looks like she’s missing her hair and is just washing her eye. Maybe she got dog shit or baby piss in it. It’s a tough call, really. She probably is also washing the fleas off that baby. Actually, that baby looks like it has rabies. Is that how you get rabies? Probably. Anyway, thanks Harriet and best wishes to this lady not having her kid ripped out of her home by DSS because I’m absolutely calling them. Gross.

Product # 2 -  Uh-oh! Is your porcelain chipping? Who gives an F?! The real issue is why in the hell is your refrigerator in the bathroom? Actually, another important question is who in the sexy hell has a porcelain refrigerator? Do they even make those anymore? And by “anymore” I really mean “since 1925.” This does bring up an innovative idea. Sometimes when I get out of the shower I would love some breakfast but then I have to walk alllllll the way to the kitchen. That’s not efficient at all. Instead, I’d love to be in the shower and just reach into the refrigerator and grab some milk for my cereal (I’ll keep the box of cereal under the sink). Also, how small is the bottle? It seems like it’ll take about 300 hours to fix that bathtub. It’s kinda like painting your car with a bottle of White-Out. Stop. I just thought of the last time I saw a porcelain refrigerator. Remember that episode of Punky Brewster when Cheri got trapped in the refrigerator? Yeah, then.

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: Go Fish Your Cat

Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday!  This week, Harriet lets people with ADHD multitask and is either giving us a dig or is about to kill her cat.  It’s a toss up.  Let’s go!

Product # 1 – Are you a complete useless douche-bag?  Have you ever been taking your daily Shasta McNasty and thought, “I need to make sure my p*ss and sh*t gets on as many things as possible while I’m in here?”  Are you 10 times the size of your toilet?  Well if you answered “I’m white trash” to any of these questions…you really have a problem with yes/no questions….but, also, Harriet has made doing stinky boom boom a whole lot more fun!  Introducing the new and improved Bathroom Fishing Game!  So the next time you’re pushing one out, why not throw out your rod, toss on your fisherman hat, slap a random censored sign over your nasty junk, and get ready to catch some rubber fish because, you know, you’re still 12 years old and need to trick yourself into “going potty.”  Garbage bag.  This thing should come with disposable gloves because you totally know this guy is going to wipe his a** and then use that same disgusting hand to reel in some fake fish.  I mean, why not place the rod directly up your bum bum and get the same effect?  Hell, why not just give skid-mark-kisses to the wall, the door, and that colorful fish mat that looks like it will burst into flames if it came within 100 yards of a match.  And who the hell designed that bathroom?  The toilet is, sure, the perfect size for the Olsen Sluts, but we’re not all that size.  Some of us don’t want our knees pressed directly up against out chin whilst taking care of Mother Nature’s Nasty Business.  And why is the toilet paper roll practically behind the toilet and 6 feet up the wall?  Just hang it from the ceiling and use it as a trapeze once the novelty of “Sh*t Fishing” wears off.  See?  This is what happens when unemployment benefits continue to be extended.  Sh*t Fishing.  In closing, no one who is over the age of 3 pulls their pants all the way down to the floor when going to the bathroom.  Well, no one over the age of 3 with the exception of people in the Tech Support department.  Thanks, Harriet, for keeping people out of work.

Product # 2 – Finally! More cat t-shirts with hidden meanings!  And what perfect timing to update your wardrobe with the nice weather just around the corner.  Wear this cat t-shirt underneath an open bubble vest while appearing in small claims court in the case of “Trailer Park Mindy vs. The Meth Dealer Who Stole Her Grape Crush Soda Cans.”  So is this t-shirt a dig towards the owner of the shirt or the cat itself?  “Accept Your Irrelevance.”  It’s like a message in a Hallmark card.  Does Harriet know that cat’s can’t read?  She knows that, right?  I mean, if they could read I’d probably get a t-shirt that said something like, “Stop Licking Your Cooch” or “9 Lives: 12 Lives Too Many.”  You know, something that really makes the cat feel good inside.  And notice how in the description Harriet says, “Our White Tee Reads:  Accept Your Irrelevance.”  Yeah Harriet, we get it.  You’re racist (allegedly).  I’m sure in your world everything white is right and everything non-white is just “irrelevant.”  Disgusting.  You’re worse than Kathy Lee Gifford was to those poor kids in that 3rd World country that, you know, made her rich and stuff.  Thanks, Harriet, for making this product and ethical debate.  One that I can never get my mind around.

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: Scare a Dog, Do a Puzzle

Another Harriet Carter Wednesday, another dollar I didn’t make.  You’d think the people over at HC would be tossing me a few bucks for positively highlighting their products each and every week.  I mean, sure I crap on them but it’s a kind crap.  A jovial crap, if you will.  And, let’s face it, this catalog has been opened up by a whole new demographic…you know….”un-white trash.”  But I digress and digest all at the same time.  This week Harriet becomes the raspy dog whisperer and sells crossword puzzles like it’s the last day here on planet earth which, in turn, it probably is.  Let’s go!

Product # 1 -  Do you like to spook your dog?  Do you speak in awkward sentences?  Well why not combine the two and really go crazy?  I mean, why not it’s the new millennium.  Do it up big!  All you need to do is set up your dog food bowl and record a little message…that kinda almost makes you sound a little like Hitler.  Let’s look at this one for example.  Here Harriet is saying to the dog that she probably stole from an 11 year old girl who was getting a scoop of ice cream at the local ice cream parlor, “Come eat your food.  Fido!”  I can’t even hear it, but to me it sounds like a cross between Marge’s sister from The Simpson’s and a caveman.  I picture Harriet with glassy eyes smoking her Misty 120’s and slurring, “Come eat your (burrrrrp) food.  Fido!”  And why the period and then the “Fido” with an exclamation point?  Wouldn’t it be more like, “Come eat your food, Fido.”  It’s not two sentences.  I don’t know why I even care.  Anyway, I bet Harriet talks to everyone like that.  She’s like, “Get over here and get your picture taken.  Failure Model Chick!”  Or, “There’s no year end bonus this year.  Employees!  Or, “My period hasn’t showed up since the Carter administration.  Earl!”  I assume her husband’s name is Earl.  I also like how the description says, “Works with food or drink, dogs or cats.”  Oh really?  Does it?  Wow that’s amazing, amazing, technology!  You mean to tell me I can “feed” my animal either food…or….drink?  Wow how does it know!?!  Thank God it said that or I was going to piss in it and leave it out for my mailman.  You see, now I know I can’t.  Thanks, Harriet, for making me love you more and more each day.

Product # 2 – You’ve spent the past 5 years training your kids to not write on the walls and now, well, you might as well toss that life lesson out the window with that whole pesky “no sex before marriage” rule.  Introducing the “World’s Largest Crossword Puzzle.”  Really?  Can you back up those claims Harriet?  Because I’m pretty sure North Korea is building nuclear weapons and the world’s largest crossword puzzle so, well, get your facts straight before I wash your mouth out with cheap wine….from your box.  And what’s up with the facial expressions from the three pervs on the box?  They don’t match up, at all, with what’s in their “talk bubble.”  Like the first dude really cares that “it’s over 6ft tall!”  Doubtful.  He looks like he took a few bong hits and then got cast as “Man on Puzzle Box Looking Psyched.”  The chick in the middle apparently is laughing hysterically over the fact that there are “over 24, 758 questions in that puzzle!” because, you know, that is totally funny.  She, too, is probably on a meth binge and in about 4 days will wonder why in the holy hell she is newly obsessed with crossword puzzles.  And, finally, the last lady looks like she’s screaming “Rape!!!!” but in all actuality she’s just saying “It’s so big! Yet if folds for easy solving!”  Seriously, what does that even mean?  You know she’s really hammered and is actually talking about her travel vibrator.  Pig.  What a pig.  Anyway, if you like crossword puzzles and, well, standing you should buy this.  The end.

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: Killing a Deer, Saving Some Money

Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday!  Figures this Harriet Carter Wednesday falls on St. Patrick’s Day and, of course, my name is Patrick.  I’ll try to write in slow sentences, whatever the hell that means, as I assume Harriet is doing keg stands in her office with her bra off followed by a slurred rendition of “We are the Champions” right before she vomits all over the “Summer Fling 2010” catalog draft.  Anyway, this week Harriet pisses off (as opposed to “on”) deer and teaches some lousy brat to save his money (i.e hide it from his grifter parents).  Let’s go!

Product # 1 – Are you sick to death of all of God’s beloved creatures?  If you had a chance would you have shot Bambi instead of Bambi’s mother?  Are you two products away from become a certifiable homicidal maniac?  Well if you answered, “Shamrocks” to any of those questions Harriet is here to help you piss off the beloved little deer that likes to tip-toe into your backyard and take an innocent little sip from your ceramic bird bath.  Introducing “Deer Stopper Barrier Ribbon.”  It’s not just for Christmas anymore!  All you need to do is string this “ribbon” all around your property and the horrific smell will keep away God’s pets for up to 30 days.  I’d get creative if I were you.  From the wonderful animated picture it looks like the deer is literally about to leap right into Jesus’ arms.  Therefore, I’d string this “ribbon of poison” UP an entire tree and see if the deer could jump directly into the sky and, then, possibly right over the moon.  It’s called a science experiment, people.  Get educated.  And, um, I have an idea.  If Harriet was so smart why wouldn’t she wrap this around her car as a way to keep deer from jumping feet first into her front windshield while she drives up a long and windy road? At least it would take care of those pain in the ass “Deer Crossing” signs.  I almost picture the deer jumping on the side of the road like dolphins in the middle of the ocean doing tricks for the drunken tourists on cruise ships.

Product # 2 – It’s amazing how I couldn’t love my two nieces any more than I do, yet the site of some other kids make me want to chop of my ding-dong as a way to guarantee I never have one of my own.  This kid.  Ugh.  Maybe if little Billy wasn’t too busy eating his hand he’d be able to save a little more money because that “Parking Meter Bank” is completely empty….kinda like his future, I assume.  And the description completely makes the entire product worth it.  It says such inspiring phrases like, “Be your own meter maid.”  I mean, and what 7 year old boy doesn’t want to be a meter maid?.  It’s basically: Astronaut, baseball player, meter maid.  I also like how it says, “…that will never expire and stick you with a ticket.”  Yeah.  Isn’t that already understood?  If Little Billy is waiting for this inanimate object to write him a ticket I’d quickly get him tested for childhood on-set schizophrenia.  However, the final line is perhaps the best I’ve read in a while, “This clear tube lets you watch savings grow, PERHAPS TO PAY FOR REAL PARKING VIOLATIONS SOME DAY!”  Wow-o-wow!  That’s right, dream big Little Billy!  One day you might get to use all that money to pay tickets!  Forget college and that “once-in-a-while” hooker.  Nope.  You should just be saving for “tickets money.”  Keep eating those fingers Billy.  It all goes downhill from here.

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: Yeah, No. That’s Not Quite True.

Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday!  Let’s celebrate!  Let’s text and drive!  Harriet Carter, the patron saint of white trash, typically provides me with smutastic products, but sometimes she shows me a little something that I don’t quite understand.  Let’s cut the small talk and get to the products.  Let’s go!

Product # 1 – Do you simply have to have the latest and greatest technology?  Have you just upgraded your Multiscribe floppy disk with a hard disk?  Do you want to show off how technologically advance you are to all your friends?  Oh and by “friends” I am of course talking about the stuffed animals you have placed around your TV tray having a tea party.  Is it just me or is this “Touch Screen” Remote Control just a regular remote control placed in what I can only assume is an old Nintendo controller with a little Saran Wrap placed over it?  Just because there’s a plastic case over it doesn’t mean it’s actually “touch screen.”  I mean, sure, the price of $15.98 should give away the fact that even Walgreen’s won’t carry this crap.  And look how they crossed out $19.98.  Wow!  Now it’s only $15.98!  What a real treat from the pricing gods.  Notice how it doesn’t come with the 2 AAA batteries?  Yeah, that’s how they just lowered the price $4.00.  And could they not have come up with a remote control in a little better condition than this one?  It looks like a mouse has been chewing up near the top of the control and part of the Saran Wrap is all marked up, like it’s been used to beat the dog with which, in this case, I’m sure it has.  I’m. Sure. It. Has.  And “11″ and “12?”  Really?  What remote control has an “11″ and “12″ button on it?  All terrible.  All of it.  I’ll take 2.

Product # 2 – Someone take note right now.  I want this cake for my next birthday and thanks to the “alphabet cake pan” I just may get it.  Alphabet.  Alphabet?  So basically you’re telling me that what I’m actually looking at is not a “5-0″ birthday cake, but an actual cake that just says, “So.”  Really?  Brilliant.  Imagine walking into your surprise party and you see your cake that just says, “So?”  This makes me want to get really creative with cake ideas.  For example:  “Yeah?”  or maybe “And Your Point Is…”   Or let’s use these cakes to break some tough news:  “I’m Not Your Mother”  or “I Blew Our Retirement Savings on Coke Whores and Big League Chew.”  So?  Ba da ba ba ba, I’m lovin’ it.  Did they really need to add those three candles onto the “So” cake for us to get the concept?  They look stupid all the way in the corner.  Dumb.  This is the worst/best birthday ever.

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: The Rabies Machine

Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday!  We’re officially three months into the new year and I’m already sick of 2010.  However, Harriet Carter and her rotten box…of products always seem to bring a smile to my lifeless-dead-behind-the-eyes face.  I picture her in a board meeting trying to choose what to sell next.  This week, Squirrel Feeders.  Next week, dignity and self respect!  Let’s go!

Product # 1 – Have you been up late at night and losing sleep over how you’re going to get your neighborhood squirrel in tip-top shape for the upcoming trailer park boxing match?  Well, dump out the moonshine because you’ll be sleeping naturally in the comfort of knowing that Harriet Carter is here to help train your squirrel.  Apparently cartoon squirrels absolutely love eating/punching corn on the cob when it’s placed in a Ferris wheel type contraption.  Look at how talented this little rabies invested animal of Satan is when it eats some corn with one hand all whilst spinning the corn wheel with its other hand.  I’m not sure if the arrows are helping him or if he just knows.  I bet he just knows.  He seems smart.  Seriously, this corn wheel is disgusting.  Living in a world where most people can’t even afford to pay for the Internet connection to read this Harriet Carter post, this cartoon family is buying extra vegetables for their backyard rodents.  Gross.  Do you really want an animal that licks cat sh*t on a daily basis coming this close to your house and then, one day, just expecting food to be there?  You probably do.  You’re probably the kind of person who’s like the pedophile of the animal kingdom.  Like, you start by enticing them with corn and next thing you know you have a family of squirrels licking peanut butter off your private parts while you watch Masterpiece Theatre and listen to “Smack My Bitch Up” on your iPod.  You’re gross.  And why the hell does the description say that this contraption keeps the animals amused for hours?  Did they time it?  Doubtful.  And who gives a rabid F if they are happy even for seconds?  I’ve spent the majority of my life running from these things and “shoo’ing” away the rest of God’s creatures as I try to make my way up the street.  Geesh.  The only time I want a contraption like this is my life is when I’m filling it with cotton candy for the homeless person who lives outside of my apartment building…and I’ll be secretly videotaping it….and uploading it to YouTube….and making millions off of it.  I’ll probably get a network deal out of it…I assume.  Thanks, Harriet, for increasing the chances of me getting rabies by 98.9%.

Product # 2 – Trying to play real life Tom & Jerry?  Are you sick of your trees just looking like, you know, trees?  Ever wish that you could decorate the absolute piss out of mother nature?  Well does Harriet have the kit for you!  Introducing the “Gnome Home.”  Bleh.  All you need to do is somehow screw this crap into the trunk of your tree and, presto chango, you’ve got yourself a pretend house for the neighborhood animals.  People will be thinking, “does someone live there?”  all while small animals will be knocked out cold when they open the door with their filthy paws and run their heads directly into the tree trunk.  I actually don’t think this is a bad idea.  Looking at this money waster I’m thinking things like, “Who lives on the first floor” and “who lives on the second floor” and, of course, “how much can I rent this place for?”  Oh and the description is written with so many puns I’m pretty sure I did projectile diarrhea in my pants.  I kid.  I took my pants down before I did the projectile so that I could spray the wall…but I digress.  It says,  “Passersby will swear you have new gneighbors.”  Get it?  “Gneighbors?”  You know what?  If any passersby are thinking anything as they pass my tree I’ll be sitting on my front porch with a loaded shotgun and yelling at them to mind their own God-damn business.  And what’s so wrong with bare trees?  Let trees just be trees.  Next thing you know people are going to star bedazzling sidewalks.  Let it alone. Let trees just be what they’re supposed to be used for: Being an absorption rag for dog piss and provide me with some shade for Christ’s sakes.

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: Spring Has Sprung. Time To Kill Animals!

Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday!  Harriet’s testicles are, clearly, tired of being frostbitten so it’s time to take a look into what crap we can buy for the upcoming Spring season.  Let’s go!

Product # 1 – Finally!  A product on the market that will protect my “ornamentals” from animal raids.  Like this one time a buffalo stampede came and totally messed with my pool sign that said, “Welcome to Our Ool.  Notice There’s No “P” in it?  Let’s Keep it That Way.”  I’m assuming that’s what they’re talking about when they say “ornamentals” right?  Well luckily this “Hot Pepper Wax” can also be sprayed on your fruits and vegetables too.  Now I’m not fully sure how this product works, but it looks like you just simply press the nozzle and then, magically, life size cartoon peppers appear and scare away a cartoon rabbit.  Problem, obviously, solved.  Honestly, I don’t care what they say.  I don’t believe, for one second, that this product is safe to spray on your fruits and vegetables.  You can’t really see it too well, but there is a huge “CAUTION” sign on the front of the bottle with about 6 rows of things to “caution” you about.  I’m hoping the “caution” fills you in that if you spray this “Hot Pepper” spray on your carrots and then eat more than two of them you will have explosive diarrhea for 3-5 business days.  Want a hot pepper apple pie?  Want to Shasta McNasty it out before you finish your first slice?  Well you’re in luck!  And why are they trying to convince us of the scent of “pepper and herbs is pleasant?”  Yeah, it is but only on things like, oh I don’t know, peppers and herbs?  You know what things I don’t want smelling like peppers and herbs?  Apples, oranges, grapes, broccoli, carrots, lettuce, spinach, lemons, peas, red cabbage, regular cabbage, etc.  Basically anything that’s not “peppers and herbs.”  Oh, and I don’t want my “ornamentals” smelling like that either.  And while your property may be clear of pesky animals, don’t be surprised to see pounds and pounds of animal projectile diarrhea all over your backyard.  Thanks, Harriet, for giving me and God’s creatures the sh*ts.

Product # 2 – You know what I was just having an in-depth conversation (with myself) about just the other day?  How there isn’t enough cats with bedazzled eyes.  Well, Harriet is “first to market” so, apparently, she wins this round.  If you want to scare the patched up pants off your trailer park neighbors all you need to do is smash this cat with the creepiest eyes directly into the ground.  It’s supposed to scare away other animals, but you totally know that within the first 2 hours of this thing being “planted” some neighborhood trash-bag is going to pop those eyes right off the cat and then try to sell it on eBay as “Jewels Recovered from the Titanic.”  It’s products like this that really make me think, “How F’n stupid are animals?”  I mean, so a bird or some other animal is going to see this cat with the creeptastic eyes…get scared for a second….and then notice that it hasn’t actually moved a muscle for over 72 hours.  Now maybe if this black cat had a shotgun attached to its paw that “went off” every 45 seconds then I could start to see how other animals would be scared.  And why do I feel like Paris Hilton is going to see this cat and then get the brilliant idea that “diamond eyes” are “hot” right now and would make her into a “sexy betch.”  Worst.  Anyway, I may pick up this cat from my local Harriet Carter hardware store and follow the description that says, “…or mount it on a tree” because, well, I do like changing the purpose of trees and I do like hanging up cats so it makes sense for me.  I hope it makes sense for you too.

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Harriet Carter Wednesday: More Horse T-Shirts!

Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday!  Did you ever wonder where I’d be if there was no Harriet Carter?  No joke, when Harriet finally kicks I hope they televise the funeral like they did with Ted Kennedy and years from now people will say, “You always remember exactly where you were when you heard that Harriet Carter died.”  I mean, I wish her nothing but good health and another 100 years to live on this glorious earth but, well, if I don’t start planning the funeral now who else will?  Moving on.  This week Harriet continues to confuse me with horse themed t-shirts that may also be insults and provides us with the answer to the age old question, “What do you get the man who has everything?”  Let’s go!

Product # 1 - Does your wife barely fit into a Hanes Husky?  Does she like wearing skid-marks brown?  Does she happen to have an odd obsession with “the horses?”  Well if you answered, “I wish my wife would leave me” then does Harriet have the latest fashion trend fresh off the runway of Milan for you! Oh, and by “runway” I actually mean “runway.”  You know, like what the workers wear at the airport?  Yeah that.  This sh*t brown, possibly highly flammable t-shirt, says, “A Woman Only Needs 2 Animals – the Horse of Her Dreams and a Jackass to Pay For It!”  What does that even mean?  So you’re suggesting she wants a horse and then some a-hole to pay for it?  Are we on the same page?  Who the F wants a horse?  And for what?  These are the same people who buy Marie Osmond’s dolls, aren’t they?  Anyway this pointless-waste-of-money-t-shirt will really elegantly show off your “wife’s” back rolls and, more than likely, visible FUPA.  And you know this sh*t shrinks into a “petite” after the first wash and dry.  The neck will stretch and get that yellowy-gray color around the inside of the collar and under the arms will start to turn white because, after all, if you’re wife is wearing this I’ll just assume she works on a farm and sweats like a wildebeest.  Oh, and I’m sure her “downstairs area” is a complete and total mess.  Like weed wacker mess.  I know that has nothing to do with the actual t-shirt, but I’m trying to paint a picture here people.  Who loves horses this much?  Why?  Who?  What? When? Where.  Sometimes “y.”  I don’t understand but, sadly, the butch who wears this definitely will understand it.  Not only will they understand it, but they’ll probably tear up when they unwrap it.  And you can take “tear up” any which way you like.  I’m thinking of two places.  You can guess which ones.

Product # 2 – Ever wonder what to get “the man who has everything?”  Well if he’s missing his hand or just happens to run the photo department at Walgreen’s he’s definitely going to need a silver-plated ball scratcher.  Yes, scratcher.  Let’s face it, when you have an itch down near Mr. Winky Claus, who needs to scratch it right away?  Animals, maybe, but not real men.  No, no.  Real men will take the time to go into their desk, open the box (giggity), take out the silver-plated hand and then start scratching away like a dog with fleas.  All of his co-workers will be squealing with delight when they see this action take place.  People will be saying things like, “Bob!  You must be doing well if you can afford to buy a tool to itch your testicles!”  And he’ll reply by simply saying, “Yes, I am doing well.  Not only do I have a tool to do the scratchin’, but I also just bought a KIA with air-conditioning AND power locks.”  Ooo la la!  So don’t just use this to comb your “front lawn” but also feel free to use it to “de-thatch” the back lawn too.  I, of course, am talking about picking your wedge.  Was that not clear?  I should stop speaking in code and just put it out there.  Thanks, Harriet, for classing up my ball scratching.  I feel like royalty!

Well that concludes another Harriet Carter Wednesday.  Spread the word!

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