Gifts for your materialistic GF

Michael Jackson FINALLY had a sex change

In behalf of the female population, I apologize to all the boyfriends in the world who have gold-digging biatches for girlfriends. However, I make no apologies for your stupidity in not knowing the difference between her hand going for your crotch and her hand going for your wallet when you're watching a movie or something.


But I won't tell you to break up with her. Because I don't want this to be an emo post. Instead, here's a practical guide for alternative gifts whenever your money hoe demands for the blingy shit.

No. 1: Expensive lingerie

She says expensive lingerie makes her feel sexy and therefore, when she feels sexy, she'll do you. Hard. Which is odd, because ripping off her So-en panties with your mouth should be more than enough to get her loins burning. Anyway, so she doesn't want Victoria's Secret. She wants the more upscale Agent Provocateur because she can't pronounce it correctly, therefore, it must be classy. But an Agent Provocatuuuyyyr bra costs about US$155. What to do? Get her...




Only US$20, this giant melon-holder is huge enough to knock her unconscious when you flick it at her. Then she'll have amnesia and suddenly forget all that crap about sexy lingerie making her feel randy (not Santiago). Best of all, when you hang it on your clothesline, your male neighbors will absolutely die with envy that you're screwing a chick such huge-ass knockers.

No. 2: Diamond earrings

Because diamonds are supposed to be a girl's best friend. Never mind that they're mined by malnourished Africans and given to corrupt militia groups who use the money to buy more guns and shit. So, in the spirit of fighting poverty, best get...




Unicorn earrings! Yey! They're only US$5.99 and your shallow girlfriend will absolutely gush at the sight of those horses with dicks on their heads. Because cutesy stuff will always get stupid chicks giddy. Like butterflies! And shit!

No. 3: Louis Vuitton bag

For some reason, an ugly US$965 bag will make her feel she looks nicer when rhinoplasty costs about the same amount. Stupid. But you think she looks awesome even without the bag (and especially without the clothes), right? And you will not pay for no stupid noselift, yes? Then get her this bag instead...




It's so hideous that when she opens it and sees the unicorn earrings inside it, she'll be so shocked at the change from super duper ugly to uber cutesy-cutesy she'd be moved to tears! Hooray!

Kinky keyboard

Those crazy Japs are at it again! This time, though, I'm not too sure if this should be considered more of a sex toy rather than a gadget. Whatever. Either way, say hello to the nifty-kinky Angel Kitty french maid USB keyboard. The costume comes with a built-in silicon keyboard for your girlfriend to wear and for you to actually use with your Windows computer. And here's how it's going to look like on your computer table:




Are you thinking what I'm thinking? I'm thinking...you won't get anything done with your girlfriend sprawled all over your work desk that way. You can't possibly see the monitor clearly with the freaking keyboard perpendicular to it. The only way you can accomplish anything is by making sure she lays herself on the table in such a way that the keyboard is parallel to the computer screen—which is with one leg propped up on each of your shoulders.


And with the gates of heaven wide open in front of you, why, surely you'd be driven to work harder on those mind-numbing graphs and other dreary paperwork! Okay, maybe not.

Ebay.ph sells weird/ugly shit

Miss Diss: Today we have a very special guest to help me rummage for dissable stuff on Ebay.ph.

Mr. D: And FYI, I've got nothing to do with this shit. The only reason you dragged me into this is to make sure someone at least reacts to your pseudo punchlines.

Miss Diss: Screw you. (whimpers softly)

Item No. 1

Miss Diss: You want a pair of short?

Mr. D: Kunin mo nga yung short mo dun sa samapayan.

Miss Diss: Short pants, short pants, short pants.

Mr. D: P130?! And I don't get the design. It looks like those squiggly DNA stuff on CSI.

Miss Diss: Well I can imagine Horatio Caine wearing that. You know, if you stare at it long enough, you'll see a 3D dinosaur pop out of it.

Mr. D: Uhm, not really.

Miss Diss: Okay!

Item No. 2

Mr. D: That's one ugly ass pair of P1,200 shoes. It looks like a dog mangled it.

Miss Diss: No. It looks like a mangled dog.

Mr. D: And check out the product description: "In very good pre-owned condition...very nice!"

Miss Diss: Okay, so if that's nice, then mouldy bread looks appetizing.

Mr. D: It should be called "chaka boots" instead.

Item No. 3

Miss Diss: Feliz Navidad!

Mr. D: Did you really have to?

Miss Diss: I just had to. Sorry. I can imagine a "Take A Bow" Christmas remix, too.

Mr. D: Do you even realize that half of your six or so readers were too young to even remember that matador video?

Miss Diss: And you're not one of them. Anyway! Santa looks drunk, what do you think?

Mr. D: Definitely. Or too much eggnog made him woozy.

Miss Diss: Is it my imagination or does he have this crazy perverted expression on his face?

Mr. D: Like, "Oooh children will sit on my lap! Mwahahahaha!"

Miss Diss: I can picture him saying that with his lengua out.

Item No. 4

Mr. D: So, correct me if I'm wrong, but this person's selling a freaking paper bag?

Miss Diss: Look like it. But it's...Precious Moments. Awww...

Mr. D: And how much is the shipping fee again?

Miss Diss: Sixty-fucking-pesos.

Item No. 5

Miss Diss: This piece of paper's so heeyuge...

Mr. D: ...it can't move!

Item No. 6

Mr. D: Okay, so its product description says: "This gas mask provides you full protection from being attacked by some poisonous gases and smoke if a life threatening emergency happens in public places like hotel, shopping malls, the subway, office buildings, warehouses and the home."

Miss Diss: It's either this: You die of embarrassment wearing some ugly piece of aluminum foil on your head in a public place. Or by wearing that hideous thing, you scare the shit out of the poisonous gases and smoke.

Mr. D: The model looks like he's in hell.

Item No. 7

Miss Diss: Would you want to receive a gift like this?

Mr. D: No.

Miss Diss: Even if it contained real pills?

Mr. D: I think it's a subtle way of telling your friend to overdose on them because he or she doesn't have friends real enough to buy nicer gifts.

Miss Diss: Why's it a "wishing capsule," anyway?

Mr. D: Apparently, they "are very cute capsules that you can write your wishes for someone and give it to them or just put your own wishes on them."

Miss Diss: Okaaay.

Item No. 8

Miss Diss: Sold!

Item No. 9

Mr. D: Dude, this looks really freaky.

Miss Diss: It looks like German Moreno.

Mr. D: Walaaaang tulugaaan!

Miss Diss: Send in the clowns...

Mr. D: Can you imagine keeping this in your room?

Miss Diss: I'd hate to wake in the middle of the night with it beside me—humping my arm or something.

Mr. D: I fear its moving jaw at nighttime. For many different reasons.

Miss Diss: Hey, isn't German Moreno gay?

Item No. 10

Mr. D: I can barely even see the product. But does the chick come with the P999 package? Because if it does, it's a pretty good deal, don't you think?

Miss Diss: Beats me. Hey, look! She's got other pictures, too! "Finally! After 72,134,972 days approaching agents and Photoshopping my set cards, I'm now a product endorser!"

Mr. D: You're so mean, heartless, cruel, and all other words that pop out when you type Shift+F7 on the word "bad." You will burn in hell.

Miss Diss: I will not! I just state my observations.

Mr. D: And your observations are all evil. Picking on people, animals, and inanimate objects. Wait till I tell your six or so readers what you just bought on Ebay.ph. That pink Hello Kit...

Miss Diss: Fuck you, shut up!

Toilet dock

Toilet dock, hardeehar, get it?

The official product name is the "Atech iCarta Stereo Dock for iPod with Bath Tissue." It supports most iPod dock connectors and swears to high heavens that it will "enhance your experience in any room with your favorite music from your iPod." I've heard of singing in the shower, but singing while shitting? In any case, I bet it goes perfectly well with the Sudoku toilet paper. I don't know about this doodad, but don't you think it'll be too distracting?


Maybe they should come up with something for Creative digital music players, too, and call it the Creative eBak.

Diyahe

In life, there's a shitload of things to be embarrassed about. Your weight. That single red zit people's eyes stray towards (but they try so fucking hard to look everywhere but there). Or accidentally saying "speel-pruf" instead of "spill-proof" out loud in front of a posse of coño Embassy regulars. But for this company fittingly named Jiahe, you should be self-conscious about your nose.

Fake tweezers: a pain in the ass to use

So they came up with the Jiahe Nose Up. According to the packaging, you ought to sell yourself to a bunch of stinky hairy old men to earn enough money to buy the product because "In order to make your nose clearer, more beautiful and full of happiness, this product is necessary for your nose!" Good heavens! I want my nose to be full of happiness! And so should you!

For your boss

When your boss peers at you from that chair that's obviously too big from him (because he enjoys the feeling of being in that damn oversized chair even if he looks like a balding dwarf in it; the same way that dirty old men in flashy sports cars assume that fast, colorful, and noisy machines would fool people into believing their schlongs are any bigger than a tube of Chapstick), don't you notice that he wears this expression that's a combination of skepticism, sheer loathing, and a painful look of holding back from passing gas? Well, chances are, 1) he indeed doesn't trust you; 2) he hates you to death; and 3) he's fucking keeping himself from farting in front of you.


If you're lucky, though, it's possible he doesn't abhor you (on the flipside, though, who knows if he has a crush on you?). It's just that he's so dying to break wind (that suspiciously smells like rotten eggs) but couldn't do it in front of his good ol' employee. If so, pity your boss and give him the best Christmas gift you could ever give him:




"You no longer have to be embarrassed by the untimely passing of intestinal gas among your friends or family. GasBGon has been designed and tested to absorb the odor and sound of flatulence. Malodorous gas is a naturally occurring event, obviously affecting some people more than others. Yet, clinical studies show that the average person produces one to three pints of gas and passes gas 14 times a day... Clean the air, not the room." Ahluvit!

Nice bag!

If the picture above was enough to catch your attention, make you want to finally post comments here, compel you to add this blog to your links list, inspire you to rummage through my archives because of your newfound love for this site, but most of all, to click on the shameless sellout AdSense links all over this page, then read no further; let the picture speak for itself.


But if you're that kind of discerning reader who wants to know the story behind the photo, the kind of person who enjoys reading FHM and not just gawk at the purrrty pictures, a human being who doesn't just fuck but rather, someone who "makes love," then read on.


This, ladies and gentlemen, is a Shopping Bag Bra. And yes, the chick above is shopping for veggies and French bread—in red lingerie. And you're so right; those crazy Japs are at it again. It's supposed to be for a good cause, though: "Each year, Japanese shoppers receive an estimated 30 billion plastic shopping bags, which, in terms of the oil resources needed to produce them, amounts to two giant tankers full of oil (millions of barrels). About 30% of these bags are thrown away without being reused, and since the consumption of plastic shopping bags contributes to environmental problems such as increased energy usage, trash buildup, and global warming due to CO2 released in the garbage incineration process, there are urgent calls to reduce their usage."


Think turning your hooded jacket into a bag or something to that effect. "When the bra is being worn, the 'shopping bag' portions are folded away inside the bra cups, where they serve as extra padding." So, if you see a Japanese chick in the mall with smaller norks (even if she can well afford a Wonderbra), you can be sure that she's just doing what she can to save the earth. Captain Planet will so have a hard-on.


The bra, which comes in red, blue, green, yellow and pink, is made from this thing called polyester fiber, which has been recycled from plastic bottles. Such a kinky thought, drinking C2 and imagining them plastic containers one day landing on someone's gazongas.

Duck!

Donald desperately wanted to go back to Peking

Now this is what I want. Way more than that stupid chicken. According to the product description, the Choke a Duck "[is a] happy duck [that] waddles around and flaps his wings to the tune of 'The Birdy Song'... it won't be long before you want to stop the annoying repetitiveness! Grab him up by the neck while dancing and he will scream and cluck like mad - flapping his wings and feet as you are gagging and choking him! No matter how many times you choke the duck, it's intent on finishing that damn tune! Choke a Duck is a fantastic stress reliever - you can vent your feelings by making the duck gag. It also makes a great 'practical choke....'" I swear to the heavens above, the last line was not mine.

Please, you just gotta see how this thing works here. Other variations I hope they come up with are:

- Choke a Useless Co-worker
- Choke an Unappreciative Boss
- Choke Lyn and Karlyn
- Choke a Call Center Agent Who Still Uses His/Her Newfound American Accent in Public
- Choke a Grumpy Old Lady Who Cuts in Fastfood Queues Just Because She's Old
- Choke Sun Cellular Customer So-called Service
- Choke Annoying Family First Agents in Malls
- Choke a Hale Fangirl
- Choke Hale
- Choke James Brown

Meet Pooki

Too much stress turned the poor thing red

"Cuddle up with Pooki. His unusual eyes and bewildered look make him instantly loveable, but you can't help but wonder, how far can he see with those eyes?"


Okay, there's absolutely nothing wrong or funny about this cuddly little animal/pillow/devil/sex organ sounding thing/alien. Unless of course, you've got a dirty little mind (why you naughty person you!) Otherwise, little Pooki (Say it with me: "Pooki. Poo-ki. Pooki!") is nothing more than your average WTF-looking novelty gift. See? No big deal. Even if I introduce you to...

One Big Pooki.

You'll never guess what this is!

Even the ugly duckling had reason to grin widely

Take a good look at this little doodad. It looks like a typical rubber ducky your baby brother or sister would put in their mouths with much gusto as if it really tastes like anything remotely close to ice cream, cake, or even corned beef (I suppose you can say the same about foreplay, hardeehar). But of course, the mere fact that it's here in diss-anything.blogspot.com means it's not your typical rubber ducky.


So, here goes our customary multiple choice guessing game. Is it:


a) A typical rubber ducky—only in not-so-typical gray.
b) A kitchen magnet to go with the classic banana, watermelon, grape, and miniature bottles of alcoholic drinks magnet designs on your ref (or is it just our ref?).
c) A vibrator.


I shit you not. The answer is letter C. And the product name is I Rub My Duckie. Really. "I Rub My Duckie doubles up as a playful waterproof rubber duck to keep you company in the bath which pleasantly contains a powerful vibrator which is fantastic for sensual stimulation which can be turned on or off by simply squeezing its back."


Don't ask me how it works or how to use it; I have no fucking idea. Let's all just agree that we now know why Ernie's rubber ducky is "the one" and makes "bath time lots of fun" (and let us not speculate on how he uses it, shall we?). I just hope that those who actually, er, rub this duckie don't leave it lying around the house for little kids to—gasp—shove in their mouths.


On a side note, I don't see how something that can actually pass for an infant's toy harbor any kinky thoughts. But then, of course, repressed women in denial without someone else's schlong to call their own would get off to bond paper.


+


Aha! Another one of my posts has made it to The Man Blog! For the one or two of you who were wondering how I do it (because you're super jealous that you've got a dick but I made it there first—snicker, snicker), it's simple, really. I write to entertain—not just others, but mostly myself. I love entertaining myself! So, yeah, being a selfish bitch pays. And besides, I'll never be jealous if someone else's (dick or no dick) post makes it there, as I have no aspirations whatsoever to be one of The Man Blog editors, anyway.


I'm just not into gay orgies. Nyahahaha!

Got balls?

Is this:

a) Silver-plated, fossilized arms of Mr. Fantastic after an accidental death that involved alcohol, a power saw, and an itchy ass.

b) A coffee stirrer for rich prudes to tickle them with the idea that, OMG, I'm actually using a hand to mix my espresso!

c) A nipple tickler.


Although the answer is none of the above, letter C comes pretty close. And no, sorry to disappoint you but this isn't a sex toy—except of course for pervs who get hard-ons from playing with extension cords. However, I think all you men out there will still love what blissful, eyelid-fluttering, ugly-silly-smile of contentment sensations this executive ball scratcher has to offer.


"When you get a twitch go straight for the itch! For the days when your own hands are just not precise enough, the gentleman's ball scratcher is in the shape of a delicate female hand making it ideal for those hard to reach places. The nine inch handle provides excellent extra length to help get around difficult obstacles (beer bellies, old pizza, empty beer cans etc) and can provide the intimate relief that so many crave," according to the product description. And knowing that it's shaped like a girl's hand instantly sets off a ding in my head that indeed, pervs who get hard-ons from playing with extension cords will absolutely luuurve this.


Okay, to be honest I really wouldn't know if this is like the next razor when it comes to men's products; because in the same way that men have been speculating since God-knows-when what it feels for a woman to orgasm, I've always wondered what it actually feels to: 1) have balls (the literal ones), and 2) to have super itchy balls.

Is that a T in your pocket?

Exchange geeky handshakes, spank each other's butts, and say "Wazzaaap?" to the Mr. T In Your Pocket. According to the product description: "Is someone giving you trouble? Is someone backtalking you? You need Mr. T on your side! Soon you'll be pitying the fool who starts jibber-jabbering! Mr. T is famously known for his role as Sgt. Bosco 'B.A.' Baracus in the 1980s television series The A-Team and for wearing an excessive amount of gold jewelry. Just hearing his voice strikes fear and evokes respect!" Ooooh! I'm trembling with fear already!


Imagine how life would be a lot easier with Mr. T In Your Pocket. Got crank callers breathing heavily and whispering, "Dude, what color are your briefs?" Or suspicious that your seatmate on public transpo will mug you because he's toting a backpack, bolo, and has two other companions with hankies covering half of their faces? Fear not; whip out your Mr. T In Your Pocket and make your enemies shit in their pants!


The product utters six lines: "I pity the fool," "Don't gimme no back talk sucka," "Quit your jibba jabba," "Don't make me mad (with a growl)," "First name mister, middle name period, last name T," and "Shut up, fool!" And so, I thought, for everyone's safety and the good of mankind, why not make other varieties of the Mr. T In Your Pocket? Here are some versions I'd like to pitch:


Dr. Phil In Your Pocket

Will make the bad guys flee for their lives by saying:
- "Life has its ups and downs, like the sunrise and sunset, and what is shining in our hearts is where our strength to move on lies, just like the grass. Thus we may achieve what we only dream of in our lifetime, which is the very essence of living life to the fullest."
- "I'll tell on you to Oprah."
- "I'm a woman trapped in a fat, bald man's body. Hug me. Tight."




David Blaine In Your Pocket

Will make the bad guys flee for their lives by saying:
- "I can snatch a watch through a glass window. Imagine what I can do to your heart."
- "You'll never be taller than me, shorty. You can't levitate now, can you? Loser!"
- "I'm the devil's long lost son."



George W. Bush In Your Pocket

Will make the bad guys flee for their lives by saying:
- "Don't you ever misunderestimate my strength!"
- "I will make your life as miserable as that guy who mocked me with his documentary... What was that again? Ah, Super Size Me!"
- "Would you like me to save your country?"



Tom Cruise In Your Pocket

Will make the bad guys flee for their lives by saying:
- "Wooooh! Wooooooh!!! WOOOHOOOOO!!!! HOOWOOOH!!!"
- "Scientology! Scientology! Scientology!"
- "Boo!"



Michael Jackson In Your Pocket

Will make the bad guys flee for their lives by saying:
- "Just watch me crinkle my nose."
- "I can give you 732,812,739 skin care tips."
- "I would like to babysit your children."



Steven Seagal In Your Pocket

Will make the bad guys flee for their lives by saying:
- "Touch my hair and die."
- "I will write, direct, and star in my own movie."
- "I'll make you watch all of my movies. Each. And. Every. One. Of. Them. No bathroom breaks."



Uma In Your Pocket

Will make the bad guys flee for their lives by saying:
- "Hi, I'm Uma."
- "Pare, pa-kiss."
- "Mwah!"




Chuck Norris In Your Pocket

Will make the bad guys flee for their lives by simply doing this pose. Heeeeyaaaa!!!

Or by (pun coming up) chucking (Chuck-ing! Get it? Hardeeharhar I'm so witty) this videotape to their faces.












Richard Simmons In Your Pocket

Will make the bad guys flee for their lives by saying:
-
-
-

Countdown to dropping the bomb

Count Dracula's agonizing diarrhea fucked up his chronology

Shit. What the hell are they going to think of next? And it's 16 fucking US dollars! Whatever happened to good ol' Joy (before they employed the ridiculous marketing strategy of tossing plastic Golden Retrievers on top of taxi cabs)? Or reading Xerex (then using Cristy Fermin's column to wipe your ass—only if you run out of Joy, of course)?

According to the product description, "We all know that having a sit down can be a time consuming and boring process. Some people read, others sing. Why not play Sudoku with your loo paper?" Because I don't want my ass to have random numbers stamped all over it like some animal getting ready to be Mila's or Lydia's next casualty.

This blog sucks

But first, is this: a) a yellow guitar with no strings that suspiciously looks like a tennis racket; b) a Teflon yellow frying pan that suspiciously looks like a tennis racket; or c) okay, a freaking yellow tennis racket.

Of course, the answer is "none of the above." Believe it or not, this little doodad is an electric fly swatter. As the product description goes, "This electric tennis racket fly killer easily kills all flying insects such as mosquitos, flies, and wasps etc, just by swatting them the shock kills all insects." I'm guessing whacking someone in the head using it will kill him, too.

Seeing a gadget like this reminds me how much crap this blog is. And just like cow shit, this blog is, well, nilalangaw. Of course diss-anything.blogspot.com is barely even two weeks old. So really, I'm just being an impatient bitch. Nevertheless, a big shout-out to the kind bloggers who have been thoughtful enough to leave decent comments—and have unwittingly dissuaded me from tying a noose around my neck. So, forgive me for my sappiness, but thank you to nixxx, dexiejane, cyberpunk, ralphot, and miss diss anything—oh shit that's me. So, yeah, that's five people (sorry but I just have to include myself since five sounds a lot less pathetic. Okay, I'm pathetic).

Chicken!

The colored chicken was wrongfully accused of stealing mobile phones.

This is one useless shit that I want to have. I want this chicken! Give me the fucking chicken! Only for US$14, this kitschy son (okay, daughter) of an egg will "add style to [my] cellphone"! I WANT YOU, YOU OVERCOOKED CHICKEN INASAL! But wait! According to the website, it's already out of stock! Fucking A! 10 million other people all over the world beat me to my CHIIIICKEEEEEN!!!

My first post

This is my first post, though this is my second blog. My first blog (which from here on I shall refer as MFB) is still active, but I want to do something entirely different with this one. My identity in MFB is kept secret from this one, and vice versa. So, yeah, it's like I'm two-timing my own visitors. Like anyone cares.

I want to make this one thematic. This will revolve around me doing one thing that I know I do well: dissing, er, reviewing anything under the sun. You may ask, who the fuck are you and why should I give a shit about your opinion? If you find yourself reading this paragraph, though, well then there's your answer. You just. Can't. Help. It.

Everyone's entitled to his or her opinion—especially me, since this is my blog, anyway. It's not that I'm pessimistic or an ace at finding fault at anything I lay my eyes on. It's more of being honest. I don't actively look for a thing or a person's shortcomings; if it's there, I'll go on ahead and say it. And at the same time, if there's something good about something, then I'll say it as well. In short, I'll simply state the obvious—brutally. If you don't like what you read, then don't read it for heaven's sake.

Well, as the Billy Joel song goes, "Honesty Is Such A Lonely Word" (okay, so I didn't know it was his song until I Googled it). Now the song's stuck in my head.

Anyway, hopefully I get to update this daily or at least more than thrice a week. So, here goes my first review...

* * *

What on earth is this? a) An iPod-powered mini fluorescent lamp. b) A mini fluorescent lamp-powered iPod. Okay, you know how multiple choice questions go; the answer is almost always "none of the above."

Well the answer is, OhMiBod...it's an OhMiBod iPod-powered vibrator! The product's website couldn't have put it so succinctly: "Everyone loves music. Everyone loves sex. OhMiBod combines music and pleasure to create the ultimate acsexsory™ to your iPod." So I haven't actually held the product so I can't, uhm, review it as objectively as, uhm, possible.

Interestingly, the "man substitute" vibrates along with the rhythm of the songs you're playing. Which makes me wonder: What songs do you think would yield the most desirable effect?

a) Celine Dion's "All By Myself"

b) Air Supply's "Making Love Out Of Nothing At All"

c) Olivia Newton-John's "Physical"

d) Elvis' "Are You Lonesome Tonight"?

Okay, by now you know how most multiple choice questions go; if the answer isn't "none of the above," it's gotta be "all of the above." But hey, if you've got other ideas, just throw 'em in.

But now I'm worried. Hopefully you guys understand that discussing a freaking vibrator won't make you assume that I'm setting the tone of this blog. Please focus on the technology, not the, well, purpose. Yeah, as if you'll listen. Screw it; I'm writing another "My first post" post to resolve any wrong assumptions, if any.

Oh, and if you guys have anything for me to review, just leave a link or email missdissanything@gmail.com. Spam me and you'll die.