Your Spice Rack Is Making Me Horny.

I saw an article about this website called dressregistry.com. Basically, women can register their dress for an event to ensure that no one else wears the same dress and they can avoid a fashion faux pas whereby they might accidentally run into the other person at the party and, for a split second, wonder why they look so ugly in that mirror.



Shoes, dress, make-up, hair... I think most women have enough to worry about. Why not give them more shit to do? Like maybe sign up for a site and register their outfit on a database that I’m willing to bet no one else at the party has even heard of? Unless the host is pretentious enough to have all of their guests go through the retarded task of registering their outfits online for something as boring as their weekly backgammon get-togethers?

Although I guess it doesn't help to even have the site if your parents dress you alike on purpose, as demonstrated by my brother and I circa 1988.



I passed through the candle aisle at Wal Mart today (on the way to the beer aisle, of course) and I thought there should be manly candle scents, like new car smell or steak. For a second, I considered signing up for a candle-making class so I could market and sell what I would call Mandles.

(obviously not too clever since, even though this is a fake commercial, the name has already been thought of).



But good thing I continued my research before I went ahead with my genius plan. I found the Manly Man Candle Company (although I’m still not convinced that’s real either.)

Downside: my idea existed long before I came up with it.
Upside: I don’t have to do anything now.



I also saw this alleged chicken finger meal in the frozen food section at Wal Mart.



If the "chicken fingers" don't look enough like dicks, hopefully the giant turd loaf will keep you from buying this product. Much like this pukey-looking kid will keep you from buying ice cream sandwiches.



I learned today that John Travolta’s son died. I can imagine it's devastating for the family, so I'll skip trying to make a funny picture for that. But is it inexcusable for me to chuckle at the fact that John Travolta, well-known for his hobby of flying, named his son Jett?

(It’s odd that Jason Lee’s into skateboarding and not flying, considering he named his son Pilot Inspektor.)

On New Years Eve, Kelly Pickler was interviewing people in the crowd in Times Square and she asked this woman if there was anyone she wanted to say hi to. She goes, “Yeah, I want to say hi to my husband. He’s right here,” and grabs his arm.

Are you retarded, woman? You don’t shout-out to people who are STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO YOU. Way to screw up a shout-out, you jerk.



And anyone else who caught the Times Square special, back me up: Didn't Dick Clark look like he was dying on air? Dick Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve, indeed!

The only thing he was rocking were handfuls of pills so he could stay alive till the end of the broadcast.

RANDOM BONUS: FAST FOOD INSECURITIES

On the side of a McDonalds cup, it said, “How are we doing?” and listed a number to call for feedback.

I think you’re doing just fine. You have over 31,000 restaurants worldwide, employing more than 1.5 million people, and you serve 47 million customers around the world DAILY. How do you think you're doing, McDonalds?

Stop boasting, okay? We get it. You're amazing.