In America, there is no niche so specialized that it cannot find someone to market to its needs. The final proof: a product catering to that heretofore overlooked demographic, the crazy cat lady with disposable income—to whom Eau de Feline Cuisine is like Chanel No. 5.
The Rejection List
The Things We Left Behind in 2009
Sometimes we tell you about things you need. Sometimes we tell you about the things you want. Today we celebrate a third category: the things that even a shut-in on <em>Hoarders</em> would stop and say, "You're not bringing that into <em>my</em> house." Enjoy.
Ah, ma chérie. How lovely you look tonight. How your skin glistens in the moonlight. How your plump lips beckon to me. But before I make love to you, may I offer you a mint? No, no, your breath, it's fine. It's a spring rose petal. This mint's for elsewhere, it's for your…Madame, madame, where are you going? Ma chérie…!
This key chain might look like the top of a beer can, but it's really just a sound-effects generator that replicates the unmistakable hiss of cracking open an icy cold one—making it the rare product that transcends mere uselessness and enters the realm of the cruel.
Mittens and gloves are okay, but let's face it—they're pretty low-tech. If you want warm hands without looking like some sort of dirt-poor caveman-Okie-rube, get the futuristic warming power that only a USB-enabled portable hand-heater delivers. Unless you want to be the type that still uses pockets.
Ah, ma chérie. Thank you for another chance. Yes, I was very out of line with those mints. Now, please sit down to this romantic candlelit meal I have prepared. Why, yes, the candleholders are fine little baby doll heads. See how the wax drips down their tiny heads, setting the mood for romance? Oh, you have to go? So soon? Alack! Au revoir, dear madame, au revoir!