WTF Report

Valentine's Cupid With Arrows And Heart

WTF Report: “Bloody Valentine”

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Ah, Valentine’s Day, when we celebrate the deaths of a bunch of Christian martyrs by buying overpriced chocolates!

Some treat their loved ones to fancy candlelit dinners, while others watch romantic comedies and sob quietly into their celebrity-shaped pillows. Most of us just shrug and go on with our lives.

Must we be so different? Is there nothing that unites us on this most corporate of days? Can a single product bring us all closer together in shared emotion? Yes, it can, and that emotion is seething hate.

Enter Etsy.com, my arch nemesis—a vile and loveless place full of birthing dolls and unfiltered terrors. What horror have you concocted for us today, Etsy?

Valentine's Heart Mitten

GAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

What in the Valentine’s salty armpit is this?!

A combo mitten that the couple shares while taking a stroll through the city? Why, you have outdone yourself this time, Etsy, you evil psychopath you!

If you think this is a cute idea, stop and think it through for a second. Not only are you sharing glorified handcuffs, but you absolutely guarantee that every single person you meet will want to murder you in the most gruesome way possible.

According to the seller, this Valentine’s mitten is “very cozy but not as cozy as the walks and smiles you will receive when people see you walking down the street.” Fuck you! I dare you and one of your suicidal friends to actually put that to the test and wear this in public. If you can go for more than two minutes before someone throws a dead squirrel at you, I’ll buy 100 of these and wear them by myself on a daily basis. When you wear this abomination, the cupid himself floats gently down from heaven and puts an arrow straight through your neck for mocking the very concepts of restraint and sanity.

There’s no way that anyone would actually purch–

Valentine's Mitten Reviews

What the?!

Valentine's Mittens Testimonials

You people are monsters! All of you!

Oh for fuck’s sake. Enjoy your stupid Valentine’s day, humanity. You are all far beyond any help I can offer.

Am I the only one here? Does anyone else think this product is an invention of the Devil himself? Can you think of worse things to give someone you love? If so, what are they?

Man Sitting On A Chair Computer Table

WTF Report: “Haweeeeeee Chair”

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You already know my thoughts on infomercials in general.

Now I’m about to share some thoughts on a specific one.

You know how sometimes you’re at work and you think to yourself, “Man, my chair is way too stable. If only I could make it wobble nonstop while I attempt to get stuff done. That’d be great!”

No? Me neither. But you know who does? These guys:

(Yes, I realise I’m very late to this party. Ellen DeGeneres did a funny segment on this very chair, years ago. But better late than stuck on a Hawaii chair with a bowl of popcorn and a strawberry milkshake, as I always say.)

Listen, I get it, you have products to sell. Most infomercials require a suspension of disbelief. But you could at the very least have avoided forcing those “real circumstances” videos on us. Your own host, Erin Lee, struggles to finish her sentences, so out of breath she is. “Very. Busy. Work. Environment. Must. Not. Throw. Up.”

I also love the opening jingle (delivered by the apathetic voice of a man who has given up on looking for proper singing gigs, and on life in general):

“Take the work out of your workout. Hawaii chair.” You take “work” out of “workout,” and you get “out.” That makes zero goddamn sense.

Notably, this chair also takes “work” out of your work, because good luck getting anything done at all while strapped to that psychotic contraption. I’m already clumsy, I don’t need the help of the Hawaii chair to drop assorted folders and paperclips all over the floor.

In the words of Erin herself: “You can hardly call this work.” You said it, Erin, you said it.

It’s no accident that I picked “Hawaii chair” for today’s WTF Report, by the way. In a few days we’re finally going on our belated honeymoon to [RETROACTIVE SPOILER ALERT] Hawaii. Kauai and Maui, to be precise.

This means radio silence on the blog until late January. I may post some links to upcoming Cracked and Listverse articles, as they get published. Or hilarious pictures of me being devoured by sharks. Either way, you’ll be entertained.

And now, I’m off to practice my Hawaiian Pidgin:

Aloha, everyone!

Scary Screaming Skull

WTF Report: “Sleep tight, kids!”

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For this last post of 2013, I went to Etsy.com—the place that sells child-birthing dolls, crafted trinkets, and permanent psychological trauma.

I wasn’t looking for just anything, mind you. I wanted to find something related to the new year celebrations. Something I could share with my beloved audience, to remind them of these wondrous holiday times and the hopeful anticipation that accompanies the arrival of each new year.

I found it. By the unholy spirits in the twisted kingdom of earthly horrors, I found it. Please welcome, the “Baby Christmas New Year Doll.”

Sorry, I misspoke. What I meant to say was: “Please welcome, the ‘Creepy Baby Christmas New Year Prop Altered Art Doll Holiday Horror Dark Goth Fear Haunted Scary Odd Weird.'”

il_570xN.543011126_qils

“Your soul tastes of strawberry!”

I’m not exactly sure what makes this a “Christmas” or “New Year” doll—but if I had to guess, I’d say it’s the dark, empty void of hopeless terror that we’ve all come to associate with the holiday season. The doll is yours for only $80 and an irreversible sacrifice of your ability to ever feel joy again (plus shipping).

If you’re not a fan of the New Year doll, you can always ask its creator for something else, like this cute abomination I like to call “Toothy Greaseface Sleep-No-More”:

"I just ate your screams, so all you can do is whisper!"

“Sssshhhh. I just ate your screams, and nobody can hear you whisper!”

Or why not skip all of that, and go straight for the physical embodiment of the very concept of suffering? Like “Mouth McTerror” over here:

"I live in your nightmares. Sanity is a dream."

“I live in your nightmares. Sanity is a sweet dream.”

What I find impressive about all of these, is not the designer’s ability to maintain hand dexterity while creating cosmic horrors. No, what’s impressive is that we apparently live in an age when insane asylums grant their inmates free access to the Internet and an Etsy account.

Enjoy your newfound ability to not sleep. Happy freaking holidays, all. See you in 2014!

Red Creepy Santa

WTF Report: “AAAAAAAAAH All The Way”

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The holidays are upon us. It’s time for people to exchange gifts, eat lots of unhealthy food, and for Fox News to dial up their yearly “War On Christmas” paranoia.

If there’s one thing everyone unanimously loves about Christmas, it’s hearing the same few beloved songs play on repeat for months on end. Seriously, radio stations, please play more Christmas songs—it’s never too much.

And then there are those for whom traditional songs just don’t cut it. These people find creative ways to “spice up” the old classics. I like to think that the following exchange took place between the creators of the song I’m about to share:

“How about a ‘Jingle Bells’ remix, where–”

“Sold! Love it!”

“Wait, I didn’t finish. So it’s a ‘Jingle Bells’ remix, but instead of words–”

“Excellent! Let’s do it!”

“Just…just hold on, okay? Instead of words, it’s—wait for it—literally just laughing. All the way. Laughing. All. The. Way.”

“Hysterical! Make it happen!”

And make it happen they did, here:

What starts out as an innocent laugh attack, soon transforms into a nonstop, surreal audio diary of Santa’s mind unraveling in real time. There is no way that one and a half solid minutes of incessant laughter are a sign of a healthy psyche. This Santa is clearly suffering from severe PTSD, manifesting itself in unnatural, eerie guffaws.

I don’t know about you, but if this particular Santa showed up at my doorstep, I’d be calling the cops and trying to frantically recall exorcism spells. Thanks, but no thanks, Santa—you goddamn lunatic.

Merry Christmas, everyone. Have fun with your families and share a laugh or two…but never three, for that way lies madness.

Black Cat With Collar

WTF Report: “Is it purring?”

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I am a proud owner of not one, not two, but…no wait, “two” was correct…two cats.

As a cat owner you quickly discover what a huge hassle it is to find out whether your cat is purring. Sure, it seems like all you need is a pair of functioning ears, but reality isn’t always that simple. What if your cat is a quiet purrer? What if you’re listening to Britney’s new album in your headphones? How will you know if your cat is purring then?

Also, you can typically tell if the cat’s purring by touching it. The problem with that is you have to, you know, touch it. Yuck. I didn’t buy two cats to make physical contact with them. They’re here to be trained in the deadly art of cat-Jitsu and to memorize the faces of my sworn enemies. There’s no place for cuddling in their lives.

So what does a busy cat-warrior-trainer need in order to identify those rare purring moments? Look no further than the “Purr Detector” collar:

With a simple and nifty electrical device that you strap directly onto your cat’s neck, you can tell when it’s purring by simply staring at the flashing lights. As a bonus, this collar doubles as a mobile Christmas decoration for your house. As a bonus-bonus, your cat will either get gradually used to bright lights shining in its face or get driven hopelessly mad by the incessant light show. Either way, you’ll have a more dangerous cat-warrior at your disposal.

Is the above product a hoax? Possibly. Do I care? Not one bit. If I don’t get my hands on a purr-detection collar one way or another, my life will never be complete. I’m also sad that it didn’t make my original list of crazy cat gadgets, but better late than never, I guess.

Blue Balloon Dog

WTF Report: “Balloon Dog”

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Think of what you could do with $58,4 million. You could turn your whole life around. You could buy houses made of chocolate for your whole family. Then you could build yourself a chocolate fighter jet and fill its cargo space with chocolate bars.

What? If you’re not spending your money on chocolate, you’re throwing it out of the window.

Or…you could spend all of that money to become the owner of a single balloon dog.

To clarify: I don’t mean a regular dog made of balloons. That would just be silly and a total waste of money. No, I’m talking about a massive freaking 12-foot metal sculpture of a balloon dog. Look at it and tell me it’s not worth the $58,4 million:

I know. It’s practically a steal. That thing is worth at least $58,5 million, by my latest estimates.

I think this is yet another example that convinces me I just don’t get art. It also makes me question my career choices up to this point. Apparently, all one needs to get rich is to visit the circus and then build a giant replica of whatever Chippy The Clown made in front of the audience.

I’m not knocking Jeff Koons—the artist behind this creation. If I could sell stainless steel sculptures of giant faceless dogs, I’d do it too. It guess I just never stop being surprised by the seemingly inflated value of most art. To quote Jeff Koons himself:

“The Balloon Dog is materialism and monumentality. In many ways it is like the Trojan horse.”

Yes, Mr. Koons, yes it is. It’s exactly like the Trojan horse…in that it’s full of tiny Greek men that will ambush the dog buyer’s bank account and murder his ability to ever feel whole again. That analogy got away from me.

If any of you are upset that you’ve missed out on this bargain, don’t fret—there are four more of these dogs out there. Go get them!

Microphone With Cord Black

WTF Report: “You’re a racist when…”

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Question: What does it take to become a judge on Holland’s Got Talent?

You probably answered: “You have to be a good judge of character, have a broad appreciation of musical and artistic talents, and be up-to-date with popular trends.”

Congratulations: You’re wrong! Turns out that sometimes it’s enough for you to simply be a stereotypical racist.

Let’s play a game. Watch the first 30 seconds or so of this video:

What were you initial thoughts? Probably something about the singer’s impressive voice and his strong audition.

See, that’s because you’re not Cornelis Willem Heuckeroth—one of the three judges. Throughout this entire performance, the only persistent thought in Cornelis’s head was: “Wow, that guy is Asian, can you believe it? A real-life Asian person on stage!”

Take a look at this video of outtakes, where Cornelis cannot stop himself from vomiting out a stream of racist jokes:

Not one word out of his mouth is about Xiao Wang’s singing. They’re all unfiltered outbursts you’d expect to hear from your xenophobic uncle, whom you only reluctantly see during family gatherings.

“Which number are you singing? Number 39, with rice?”

“Honestly, this is the best Chinese I’ve had in weeks, and it’s not a takeaway.”

It’s like Cornelis is hooked up to Google Translate, with settings permanently stuck on “Dutch-to-Racist.” If he were a book character, the author would receive a note from the editor to make him more realistic.

I take solace in the fact that most members of the audience seem to be decidedly booing Cornelis’s attempts at being funny. The rest of them laugh awkwardly, because people don’t always know how to react when confronted by a walking racist caricature.

Congrats, Cornelis, you win the “Racist Of The Month” award.

Peace Dove With Branch

WTF Report: “Nice Peace”

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Today’s WTF Report is brought to you courtesy of this Cracked article.

Question:

What happens when you infuse a happy, feel-good song with the childlike innocence of an old Japanese gentleman?

This…this is what happens:

Yes, that is an old man wearing a skirt and skipping merrily through a city, while singing a happy song in broken English. No, that is not a sentence I ever expected to have to write.

To be honest, this song makes me feel happy. I find myself humming its chorus and thinking of “nice peace” (as opposed to the more unpleasant types of peace). I look at the children dancing to the tune and think positive thoughts. But then I remember that the song is sung by a misguided old guy who flirts coquettishly with the camera and flutters his eyelashes at the audience. Talk about sending mixed signals! I’m not sure if I should flirt back or worry about ending all wars. You’re confusing, old sailor man!

Then again, shouldn’t we focus on the message instead? Clearly such a positive song can teach us all to get along and stop fighting wars.  Does it really matter if it’s delivered in such a bizarre manner?

Yes. Yes it does.

Nice Peace

Happy Friday everybody, nice peace to all of you!

Weird Masks

WTF Report: “What the f…art?!”

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Listen, I’m an open-minded guy.

Do you want to throw random vegetables and paint onto a canvas and call that “art”? Go ahead! Want to stand perfectly still on one leg for forty hours to make a statement about the pointless of human existence and the fleetingness of life? Whatever makes you happy!

But I must admit that even I have limits. Having amassed a modest library of WTF reports, I can honestly say that none of them come anywhere near as close to being worthy of their “WTF” title as what I’m about to show you. Brace yourselves:

If, for some strange reason, you refused to sit through the full three minutes of whatever-the-hell-that-was, allow me to sum up the video’s essence in this this helpful, ten-second GIF:

Metal Penis Art

There must be a million questions racing through your mind right now, like “Why can’t I stop screaming?” and “Has God forsaken me?”

Sadly, I have no good answers for you. I am just amazed that somebody managed to turn some of my absolute worst nightmares into a 3-minute “art” performance.

I can find two possible explanations for what we’re witnessing here:

1) This is an elaborate prank. That only begs further questions, however. For example—where’s the punchline? At what point do they reveal that we’re on hidden camera? Did they go through so much trouble simply to set up a deeply disturbing prank? If so, why is this type of visual torture not punishable by law?

2) This is a real, honest-to-goodness attempt at art. That just makes me want to cry tears of fear and confusion. I don’t understand anything anymore. Are we living in a time where half-naked people thrusting metal penises into solid objects is considered a valid form of artistic expression? Should we introduce mandatory psychiatric evaluations for anyone attempting to create art?

In any case, I don’t feel so good. I think I need a bit of time to myself to see if I can ever become whole again. But in the meantime…

Metal Art Thrusting Skateboard

Underwear Boxers

WTF Report: “Fart-wear”

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This isn’t about wearing farts. Don’t be silly. Silly face.

No, it’s about an ingenious solution to mankind’s most pressing issue: public farts.

Do you know what the worst thing about farting in public is? Other than “everything”?

The answer is “the smell”.

Think about it. Sound? You can pull a silent one or blame a squeaky chair. Your dignity? If you’re farting in public you probably care very little about it. The smell, though?  The smell lingers. It etches itself into people’s noses and their subconscious. They will remember it. Forever. Along with the culprit: you!

So how do we solve this smell situation? By simply not farting in public? Nonsense! By wearing fart-absorbing underwear, that’s how! Behold:

Well, that’s an anticlimactic picture. They look just like regular boxer briefs. But, if the article is to be believed, they’re magical. Because we live in a world where an item of clothing that hides our farts is automatically worthy of the “magical” label.

They’re made of material that absorbs bad smell and makes your farts 73% less embarrassing. And ladies, don’t worry – you haven’t been forgotten. For all your fart-suppression needs, I bring you:

The underwear is called “Shreddies”, because it…shreds farts? I’m not sure. Fun fact: Shreddies is also a cereal brand, so stay tuned for awkward misunderstandings happening at a grocery store near you!

If you need a person to blame for introducing you to these flatulence-obliterating undergarments, don’t blame me! Blame Carrie Rubin for introducing them to me on Twitter.

Speaking of which, if you also come across something worthy of a “WTF Report” – video, picture, book, website, your neighbour – send me an anonymous tip, or even a non-anonymous one. What’s a synonym for “non-anonymous”? And why is that combination of syllables so funny? And why can’t you stop saying them to yourself now?

Anyways, I’m always open to candidates for “WTF Report”, so keep an eye out!