Tag: Misc

Interviewer: Today, I’m speaking with the one and only Comfort Wipe. Thank you for coming.

Comfort Wipe: Thanks for having me. Do you need me to wipe your crack?

Interviewer: No, I’m fine.

Comfort Wipe: Well if you need to, just let me know.

Interviewer: Thanks. I appreciate that. So how did you get started with helping people wipe their asses?

Comfort Wipe: I guess it was just something I was born to do. Personally, I think in a previous life, I must’ve done some horrible things and as punishment I was reincarnated into a Comfort Wipe. I guess some folks get reincarnated into cockroaches and others become tools specifically made to wipe asses.

Interviewer: Help me imagine the type of person who would need you. Who are your clients?

Comfort Wipe: I deal mostly with those who are unable to reach down there, like disabled people who have limited dexterity. When it comes to helping them, I feel like I’m doing some good in the world and building up karma so that if I get reincarnated again I’ll end up being a beautiful butterfly or something that doesn’t involve being in between butt cheeks. Although I think that won’t be happening for a long time since I’m made out of a plastic that will take forever to decompose.

Interviewer: But what about those who aren’t disabled? What are your thought about you being marketed to those who don’t seem to need it?

Comfort Wipe: I don’t understand it. Are there people out there so prudish that they’re afraid to wipe their own asses? Sure, occasionally, the toilet paper can rip and your finger can accidently end up in your butt hole, and cleaning up after a bad case of diarrhea can get messy, but those instances are so rare, unless you have crappy toilet paper or eat Taco Bell every single day.

Interviewer: So how do you work?

Comfort Wipe: Well, take about three sheets of toilet paper and fold it in half. Take one end of the folded toilet paper and put it into my mouth. Then take the other end, wrap it around my head and also place that end into my mouth. My mouth will keep it in place. Then take my head in between your legs, with my mouth facing down, place it near your anal area and then wipe. Thankfully, because my mouth is facing in the opposite direction, I can’t toss your salad, even though I spend just as much time in between butt cheeks as someone’s bitch in prison.

Interviewer: Once we’re done wiping, how do we get rid of the toilet paper stuck to you?

Comfort Wipe: Just press the button on the top of the handle and my mouth will let go of both ends of the toilet paper. You may have to shake me a little since my head is made from a rubber-like material that has some tackiness to it.

Interviewer: How effective are you at cleaning down there?

Comfort Wipe: If you were to use your hands, you’d get a more thorough cleaning. I’m not saying this because I don’t like being jammed in between a person’s buttocks. But I’ve got court-side seats to what goes on down there so I know how effective I am and, to be honest, I don’t get you 100 percent clean. If you’re anal retentive, pun intended, you definitely won’t be satisfied. Also, if you’re using me to clean down there, you’ll probably end up using more toilet paper than if you were doing things by hand.

Interviewer: So you’re kind of a pain in the ass? Pun intended.

Comfort Wipe: It seems so. Another thing I should point out is that it’s suggested that I be cleaned after each use, but I can’t be immersed in water. Instead I should be cleaned with a moist wipe or a soft disposable cloth and mild soap, and then dried off with a soft disposable towel.

Interviewer: Wow. That seems extremely wasteful.

Comfort Wipe: Yes, it is.

Interviewer: One final questions. Is there anything you would like to say?

Comfort Wipe: All I want to say is, I’m sorry for whatever I did in my past life to become reincarnated as a Comfort Wipe.

(Note: If you’d like to see a video of this interview, it’s embedded below.)

Item: Ideaworks Comfort Wipe
Price: $9.99
Size: 15.75 inches
Purchased at: Amazon
Rating: 7 out of 10 (for those with limited dexterity)
Rating: 5 out of 10 (for almost everyone else)
Pros: Good for those people with limited dexterity. Toilet paper securely stays on. Unique release button to dispose of toilet paper. Tacky grip helps prevent it from slipping in your hands.
Cons: Won’t make you 100 percent clean. Being reincarnated as a Comfort Wipe. A pain in the ass to clean. You may end up using more toilet paper than usual. Unable to toss salad. Eating Taco Bell every single day.

It is hard to believe that in two months it will be the 40th anniversary of that mud-covered, bong water-flavored, musical love-fest known as Woodstock. Even though I wasn’t actually there since I was born eighteen years after the harmonious event, I’m pretty sure I know what it was like to be in the crowd and which aromas would tickle my nostrils due the LSD induced hyper-sensory experience.

In the midst of animal and human fecal matter, ganja brownies and food cooked over flaming piles of hemp t-shirts, the fragrance of patchouli oil is able to stick out as one of the very few aromas that delights, but doesn’t give you the munchies so bad that you are willing to try the vegetarian goulash of a slightly hairy woman who was just born again as Starlight Moonshadow.

If you haven’t had the pleasure of smelling patchouli oil, I guess I can describe it as the scent from your sexually ambiguous art teacher who wore long flowing skirts and jewelry made by Incas sold at that random store in the mall that always opens up and mysteriously closes after two months. I guess there isn’t a desperate need for replica Urhobo masks.

The Olay Body Hydrate Botanical Fusion Body Wash has a slight scent of patchouli, which is perfect for me, because I don’t like body washes that are overpowering since I use lotion and perfume. However, it wouldn’t be strong enough to get a hippie clean. The body wash lathers up pretty well using a medium-sized bath pouf, but I did notice that I had to put a larger amount than other body washes that I frequently use from Bath and Body Works or even Irish Spring (who says it’s only for men?).

Maybe this is a plot made by Olay for women to purchase more of their products (doesn’t every beauty company do this?), but I don’t think it’s working since I did buy this on sale at CVS. Although, I believe it was on sale because of a bottle design change, which is a little upsetting to me because the bottle design is what caught my attention in the first place. Also, it’s probably not “new” anymore.

Olay did hold up their hydrate promise, because my skin did feel like buttah before I even moisturized; the soy oil probably helped this. The Olay Body Hydrate Botanical Fusion Body Wash is a good product, but it is pretty boring compared to the thousands of other body washes currently on the market.

Item: Olay Body Hydrate Botanical Fusion Body Wash
Price: $3.79 (on sale)
Size: 15.2 fl oz
Purchased at: CVS
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Moisturizes the skin. Light scent of patchouli won’t make you smell like a hippie. Ganja brownies. Woodstock ’69. Purchased on sale. Skin like buttah.
Cons: Need to use more on bath pouf than other body washes. Scent might be too light for some. Hallucinating from ganja brownies. Woodstock ’99. Silky body wash could make you slip in the shower.

Before the period in my life when I went to the beach to take voyeuristic photos of women in bikinis so that I could post them on the internet and before my current fear of taking off my shirt in public, I went to the beach to enjoy the salty air, cool blue water and the sound of crashing waves. The Method Sea Minerals Marine Naturals Body Wash reminds me of those simpler times when I wasn’t the freak on the beach with his shirt on who would have the meanest farmer’s tan and armed with a camera with a telephoto lens pretending to take photos of natural scenery.

The body wash’s pleasant fragrant and slightly salty scent reminds me of those days spent lounging and swimming at Hapuna Beach when I was a youngster and not a pervert. Sometimes I would swim out a little farther than everyone else and, while treading water, I would urinate in the Pacific Ocean with a big smile on my face. No pulling down my shorts. No aiming. Just letting it flow into the largest toilet bowl on the planet. For some reason the warm urine felt good as it escaped my body and mixed with the cold sea water. It’s a feeling I think everyone should experience, unless you’re at a beach that’s known for its regular shark sightings.

No, peeing in a swimming pool is not the same. Peeing in a swimming pool is for savages.

The Method Sea Minerals Marine Naturals Body Wash smells very similar to the Method Sea Mineral Hand Wash, but not as strong. If you’re not familiar with Method products, they are eco-friendly, haven’t been tested on animals and don’t contain ingredients that are considered to be pollutants or possible irritants, like parabens, phthalates and EDTA. One ingredient that this body wash does contain is sea salt, which gives it its slightly salty scent and is supposed to help purify the skin. But don’t expect the body wash to have granules of salt to exfoliate your skin or enough sodium to make your skin lickable to a race horse.

Because it’s eco-friendly, some people might think that it doesn’t clean as well as regular body washes, but it lathers up nicely, makes my naked body clean and leaves me smelling great in a scent that’s suitable for a man with a camera or the bikini clad woman he is secretly taking pictures of.

Item: Method Sea Minerals Marine Naturals Body Wash
Price: $6.99
Size: 18 ounces
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Nice fragrant, slightly salty unisex scent. Sexy curvy bottle. Reminds me of the beach. Doesn’t contain harmful pollutants or irritants. Not tested on animals. Lathers up nicely. Hapuna Beach.
Cons: Pricey. Might be difficult to find. Peeing in a swimming pool. Cap might be hard to recycle. Taking voyeuristic photos of unsuspecting women in bikinis. My fear of taking off my shirt in public.

Call me an old man who wants those darn kids to get off of my lawn and to stop skateboarding on the sidewalk, but I don’t understand this newfangled Colgate Cinnamint Wisp thingamajig, which is a mini one-time use toothbrush that doesn’t need water or rinsing. It seems like it has created its own level of oral hygiene somewhere in between brushing your teeth and chewing gum, which are two perfectly fine degrees of oral hygiene and I don’t think we need any more.

The Colgate Wisp is for people who want to freshen up on-the-go and it’s somewhat similar to the Oral-B Brush-Ups, except less environmentally-friendly and it doesn’t look like a Barbie oven mitt. Wisps are also not meant to replace regular brushing or to make your Troll Doll look respectable.

A Wisp is 3.5 inches long and is slightly unwieldy. Each end has a tool to help you clean your teeth; a mini plastic brush head on one end that brushes away food particles on and around your teeth and on the other end is a pointy tip, which I can only assume is used to clean your teeth by threaten dentists with it for free cleanings and check-ups.

In the middle of the brush head is a “freshening bead” that provides the nice, mild cinnamint flavor and dissolves as you brush. There’s no foaming involved or need to spit. The freshening bead takes a long time before it completely dissolves, but its flavor stops after a minute or two. Its bristles are quite stiff, so if you’re one of those people who plays hard, works hard and brushes hard, I’d suggest avoiding this product.

After using the Colgate Cinnamint Wisp a couple of times, I feel it does a decent job of freshening my mouth, but I also feel it isn’t very lasting or practical. Why should I replace my Orbit Gum, which claims to give me a “just brushed clean feeling” for a mini toothbrush that not only doesn’t satisfy my oral fixation, but is also kind of inconvenient to use. With sugar-free gum I can just pop a piece in my mouth and be on my merry way to a meeting, party or dealer. And I can keep that piece in my mouth for 15 minutes or more, throughout which it’s helping me produce saliva that helps fight decay-causing bacteria…or at least that’s what the interwebs told me because I have no formal or informal dental training under my belt.

With the Wisp I feel I have to go somewhere private in order to use it. I think it would be rude to use it in front of someone in public. I can’t just walk around with it in my mouth like I would with a piece of gum. It’s also another thing to carry around and I don’t have room for that. I don’t think Gap makes a cargo pants with enough pockets for all the crap I have to carry. I know what you’re thinking — man purse. But I already have to worry about too many “man products” like my mirdle, manziere and mthong.

(NOTE: Everyview gave their opinion on it and so did Plus/Minus.)

Item: Colgate Cinnamint Wisp
Price: $2.36
Size: 4-pack
Purchased at: The-Superstore-Behemoth-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Doesn’t need water or rinsing. Does a decent job of freshening my mouth. Nice, mild cinnamint flavor. Pointy tip comes in handy when threatening dentists for free services. Gum.
Cons: Stiff bristles. Inconvenient. Another thing to carry around. Freshness doesn’t seem to last very long. Slightly unwieldy. Not environmentally friendly. Seems weird to use it out in the open, unlike gum. Trying to make a Troll Doll look respectable.

Let’s be honest.

The Listerine Agent Cool Blue Glacier Mint tinting rinse is basically a bullshit detector for parents to use on their children to ensure they’re not lying about brushing their teeth. It’s made for minors at least 6 years of age, which is when I learned the wonderful technique of lying to get out of trouble and to get what I want. Not even the George Washington cherry tree story, which ironically is a lie, could convince me to always be truthful.

This bullshit detector works by tinting your rug rat’s teeth after they rinse with it for 30 seconds. The blue will attach to their plaque and give their teeth a very light blue tint, which is supposed to encourage your brats to brush their teeth better and to make brushing fun.

Of course, if you’re having trouble getting your offspring to brush, you’ll probably have the same level of trouble getting your nestlings to rinse with this product when they know brushing will follow, which ends up being double the hassle for you. So I’m not sure if this is an efficient way to get your lil’ hellions to brush their teeth.

I don’t have kids, but I’ve come up with a few ways to “convince” your little punks to have good oral hygiene. Which one you use depends on how much pain and/or embarrassment you feel they can handle.

Technique #1: Embarrassment – Are you decent at Photoshop? Know someone who’s good at Photoshop? Take one of your kid’s school pictures, scan it, open the file up in Photoshop and do some digital dental cosmetic surgery. Remove some or all of their teeth; draw squiggly lines or, if you’re a Photoshop expert, a green cloud of gas coming out of their mouth to signify bad breath; and add the words, “Stinky Breath” on the image. Then take the completed image, put it on a t-shirt and make your scamp wear it to school.

Technique #2: Paranoia – Set up a security video camera in the bathroom your lil’ rascals use. It can be real or fake, but it should have a working red light on it and occasionally make sounds like the camera is focusing. If possible, add an intercom system which you’ll use to announce that you’re watching them.

Technique #3: Fear – Show your lil’ wretches episodes of the HBO drama Oz, particularly the really graphic ones, and tell them that people who don’t brush their teeth end up in prison.

Technique #4: Pain – The next time your bundle of joy has a dentist appointment, slip the dentist an extra $50 to add a little more pain to their time in the dentist’s chair. Tell your dentist to scrape a little harder, poke at their gums a little more and threaten them with the drill a few times. If you hear crying or see a little blood, slip the dentist an extra $20.

But if you’re not willing to make these type of commitments, then the Listerine Agent Cool Blue Glacier Mint tinting rinse might be able to get your gene carriers to brush, although if they have any intelligence I’m pretty sure they can figure out that they can just rinse their mouth with water when you’re not looking to get rid of whatever blue tint there is, hence the Paranoia Technique above.

When I tried this product, I found the blue tint to be unnoticeable after I rinsed with it for 30 seconds. However, after rinsing with it for a minute, the blue tint was a little more prominent and it dyed my plaque and tongue a dark blue, but all of that easily disappeared after I brushed. It had a pleasant minty flavor and because it’s a rinse and not a mouthwash, it doesn’t sting like normal Listerine.

I still don’t know if the Listerine Agent Cool Blue Glacier Mint will truly encourage little shits to brush their teeth, because it’s not intimidating and Hannah Montana is not on the bottle. All I do know is with my parenting abilities, using pain and embarrassment, I would make an awesome parent, teacher, Scoutmaster or day care facility owner.

Item: Listerine Agent Cool Blue Glacier Mint
Price: $4.46
Size: 16.9 ounces
Purchased at: Wal-Mart
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: It has a minty flavor. It’s blue. Decent bullshit detector. For adults and children. My parenting techniques. Good oral hygiene.
Cons: I don’t think it’s very effective in encouraging children to brush. Took more than 30 seconds to see blue tint on my teeth. Does not make brushing fun. Name is lame. Bad oral hygiene.