Everything I Like Causes Cancer

Where we've been convinced to write a new post on Dec. 2. Stay tuned!

Whew. That title's a doozie, much like the man who drafted it, Dr. Zibbs, who challenged me today to find a crappy gift to add to a stockpile he's building for sick people. His theory is that good things are wasted on sick people, who will, "just cough on it anyway or something" and who, in my own opinion, can't appreciate nice things because of their weakened conditions.


Being the laziest of the lucky few touched by the good Doctor to do his charity work, I peeked at what the other participants found. What? I wanted to make sure I didn't duplicate ideas. Sheesh. I already had mine, I just wanted to make sure it hadn't been done.

THE RULES, as stated by Zibbs:

1) Pick a crappy gift for the That Blue Yak Crappy Gifts For Sick People Stockpile and post it on your site.

2) Pick 5 bloggers that you think might want to open their hearts and pick a crappy gift.


4) And if you really want to get into heaven, write, "I POSTED A CRAPPY GIFT" in the comments section of this post so we can see the crappy gifts you picked.

I thought about this a lot today because it was more fun than concentrating on work. I sorted through the old, dusty corners of my brain searching for the suckiest gifts I ever received. I had one grandma who gave me a nightgown every year, which was nice, except they always had cheap lace at the neck and really tight elastic bands at the wrists. They were itchy and demonic, but certainly not crappy enough for the TBY Stockpile.

And then I found it - one year my grandpa gave all the men in my family a gift that was talked about and admired and coveted until, come spring, it proved to be the biggest, most frustrating piece of shit I've ever seen:


Oh, yes, bow to me. It was flimsy, the line always knotted up and got stuck; the only purpose this thing served was to teach me how to cuss and we all know how that fucking turned out, don't we?

I looked all over these vacuum tubes for a picture of one. I found one photo, in sev-er-al places, but it showed the new, sleek, black Popeil Pocket Fisherman and I really wanted to have a picture of the one that was solid plastic and the color of a manila envelope. My tenacity eventually paid off and I found the old commercial. Can you believe this thing even came with bait?!


I tag: McGone, Whiskeymarie, Fancy Schmancy, Suze, H. I cannot wait to see what these monkeys add to the stockpile.

9 comments:

Gwen said...

Where the heck is everybody? Are you guys boycotting me or something?

Anonymous said...

Thank God I don't fish. Had I been a fisherman (with my penchant for buying gadgets), I'm sure I would have added many a cuss word to my already impressive repertoire!

Dr Zibbs said...

Craptacular! I always wondered if that piece of junk worked.

LegalMist said...

Excellent job, Gwen! It's funny - they never show anyone on the commercial actually casting the line successfully. A couple of shots of reeling it in, one shot of the "backswing" part of the cast, but no successful casts shown. Telling, eh?

Moooooog35 said...

I went fishing in my pocket and found a trouser trout!

Too obvious?

Anonymous said...

I remember the Tv ads for this thing! ha! I can't remember if my dad ever tried it, but by the sound of it here, I sure hope he didn't! :-)

Great crappy gift!

words...words...words... said...

Didn't this frustrating little contraption build the Popeil empire? That man IS America.

Whiskeymarie said...

I'm sick as a dog and at work today, but you can bet your sweet ass I'll be all over this tomorrow, toots.

Alice said...

Gwen I expect you to go over to my blog and check out my crappy gift. The fisherman looks nice.... I always wanted to try it.... but I already cuss fucking too much myself

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