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I Heart Infomercials (Pt. 2)

Well whaddaya know?

I guess I am going to continue this whole “infomercial bidness” I started way back when after all.

I fully intended to let this topic fade into obscurity like so many of my other empty promises (I mean, why start making good on those suckers now, right?) — but, lo and behold, here we are.

I’m just as surprised as you are about this sudden, uncharacteristic bout of tenacity.

So, where were we when I last posted?  Ah yes.  As I mentioned before, I’m a flaming infomercial addict who… yadda, yadda…

You know what?  Just go back and read it here.

All caught up?  Good. 

So let’s begin…

AAA 42-Piece Emergency Road Assistance Kit  (, $16.27)

Every Christmas since I turned 16, my Dad has gotten me some sort of emergency car kit complete with jumper cables, orange traffic triangles, battery chargers, flux capacitors, etc.  Every Christmas.  I get the feeling my Dad thinks I’m some sort of pathetic, dim-witted female who regularly finds herself stranded helplessly on deserted roads in the middle of the night. 

Which I am

Which is, of course, precisely the reason it’s more probable I’ll choose to accept a ride from a twitchy-eyed stranger with a hook for a hand than waste my time bothering to figure out how to actually use anything in this kit.  But, hey, thanks for thinking of me, Dad! 

Verdict:  Basically, the only time I even remember I own this kit is when I take a corner too fast and hear a vague dull thud from the trunk.  So it’d probably be useful only for those who (a) are sensible, resourceful, capable adults who are vigilant about their personal safety, or (b) morons like me who think it’s comedy gold to to tell passengers that the thud they heard was just a drugged homeless guy in the trunk.   

Next up…


My Lil’ Reminder Keychain* (, $8.95 for 2) 

Technically, I didn’t buy this item.  This was a thoughtful gift given to me by my oldest brother as a way to conveniently record quick notes to myself when paper and pen (or, you know, blood and walls) weren’t handy.  And it probably would’ve simplified my life in miraculous ways if I weren’t entirely creeped out to the very core of my being by it. 

Ok, so maybe my reaction’s a little extreme.  But, the way I see it, considering how often I engage in weird, strange, quirky, and/or bizzare behaviors, it’s only by the grace of the Lord Almighty that I have managed to avoid becoming a hapless, slack-jawed victim of YouTube.  So choosing to use a recording device seems a little too much like thumbing my nose at Fate.  And that prospect alone might’ve been reason enough for me to steer clear, but then add to that the time I was 13 and went on vacation to Fort Fisher with a girlfriend and her family and her Dad got a call from the hotel manager a few weeks after the trip saying that he had us on video surveillance doing cartwheels in the hallway in our bras and underwear in the middle of the night.  

It’s just a bit traumatic to have to carry around for 15 years the knowledge that your friend’s Dad knows that, on occasion, you willfully engage in half-naked cartwheels, you know?    

Verdict:  I recommend this handy gadget for those of you without crippling media phobias or proclivities toward “double rainbows”-style freakouts.  And for those who do, well, God help us.

* Ok, I lied a bit.  This isn’t the exact same brand I own, but I couldn’t find mine online.  I know it’ll be hard to trust me again.  I’m willing to go to couples counseling if it’ll help us get past this.

Moving on…

Debbie Meyer Green Bags (, $9.95 for 20 bags) 

These bags, which are designed to naturally extend the life of your fruits and veggies, are the holy grail for anyone like me who decides, in a guilty, post-weekend-long-S’more-bender, to spend a small fortune on leafy greens, only to sentence said produce to a lonely, smelly, agonizing death in the bowels of the crisper before finally being tossed out a month later. 

Mind you, these bags don’t work miracles — it won’t keep fruits and vegetables fresh forever and it sure as heck won’t make them taste any better than what they are — but it prolongs the shelf-life by about a week to a week-and-a-half.  And that’s usually just enough time for me to have Hoovered up everything else in the fridge (including condiments) and, in a hungry rage, grudgingly resort to those celery sticks and alfalfa sprouts I bought three weeks ago.  

Verdict:  The downside is these bags are a little flimsy (it’d be great to have this technology in Tupperware), need twist-ties, and wear out after about 15-20 uses, but if you’re a regular produce-eater — or just prone to random bouts of guilt-driven produce purchasing — they’re definitely worth the money.

Next on the list…

Braun Silk-epil SoftPerfection Epilator  (, $41.49)

Whether or not to buy this device is perhaps one of the most personal decisions you will make in your life.  It’s the Sophie’s Choice of hair removal.  See, on the one hand, the Epilator works — and, unless you are some sort of Yetti, you will enjoy blissfully hair-free legs, armpits, etc., for up to two weeks.   On the other hand, there is a good chance that, during the initial hair removal process, you will pass out on your bathroom floor and not be found for several days, thus significantly reducing your appreciation for smooth legs during that time. 

Basically, it comes down to what lengths you are willing to go to in order to be hair-free.  Because the way the Epilator works is by ripping out your hair follicles by their roots.  And that is not merely advertising jargon like “Blasts through soapscum!” or “Destroys odors!”  This device quite literally RIPS YOUR HAIR OUT.  Right in front of its wailing follicle family.  And the process can take up to an hour if you’ve got really hairy legs or a lot of surface area to cover. 

I’ll admit I’m probably not the typical consumer here.  I absolutely loathe shaving because it takes me up to 30 minutes, I always somehow mangle my shins while leaving random patches around my knees, and then I have to do the whole convoluted process all over again the next day.  So, for me, the up-front cost is worth the long-term reward.  Also, it helps that (a) I have a pretty high pain tolerance in general, and (b) years of using this gadget have deadened all sensation in my lower extremities. 

Verdict:  If you’re thinking about buying this, I recommend you do some serious soul-searching.  Go for a walk on a beach.  Watch a sunset.  Then take a pair of tweezers and tweeze a few choice hairs as a test.  If you start swearing and punching things at random, you’re probably not an ideal candidate.

Ok, that’s it for now!  Stay tuned for the next installment… which, at this pace, will be around Fall 2011.




YouTube + my arms + epilator = epic viral video. I’m just saying.

Okay, next time I’ll get you one of those fiber-optic camera shirt-buttons that you can use to film up people’s noses when you hang out with them. I only got you that message thingy so you could record the ghosts of career choices past as you rise to literary success.


Okay, how come you didn’t tell me about the Fort Fisher excursion when we were there? Do you not think I’d be daring enough to do hallway cartwheels in my underwear? Think again, my friend. Think again.


Haha, I swear I told you that story when we were there! And sorry I never used your reminder thingy, Kevin. Any normal sister would’ve appreciated it but you had to go and get yourself a neurotic one. :)


That’s okay. I had it coming after the 30 Seconds to Mars debacle. ;)

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