As Seen On TV (Part 3)

One of the most exciting new products on the market is the “Pocket Hose,” a small, wrinkled hose that grows and expands to a longer length once water pressure is applied. The infomercial promises that for only $12.99 you can have a hose that will hide in your pocket but grow exponentially when needed. The manufacturer insists that once the hose is expanded it is, “long and strong enough for any job.” The design prevents kinking, twisting, and tangling and the item can be purchased in lengths up to twenty-five feet. It was unclear whether or not cold water accelerated the shrinking process.

The euphemisms and double entendres provided by this product are almost suffocating in their abundance. Seriously, a “pocket hose” that contracts to a smaller size when not needed but will expand under certain conditions. Who is writing copy for these manufacturers? There is probably an adult novelty conglomerate filing an infringement lawsuit as I am typing this. Personally, I feel that one of the best things about a garden hose is they are difficult to misplace due to their unwieldy design. If you find that you lose a traditional hundred foot hose on a regular basis, replacing it with something that will fit into a pair of chinos is unlikely to resolve the issue.

Our next offering is the GoPilot portable urinal system for men and women. The GoPilot consists of a grey reservoir fed by a plastic accordion-style hose and the inlet is sold with an adapter for female use. The deluxe edition runs $44.95 and can hold up to one quart of liquid gold. Inventor, Dr. James Kolter, recommends it for road trips and tailgaters. The discreet storage bag doubles as a modesty cloak when those pesky truck-drivers won’t stop leering. The manufacturer even offers a gas can adapter for times when “a quart just won’t cut it.”

I thoroughly enjoyed the testimonials section where one customer revealed that he had given one to his father so that “he could finally watch an entire Cowboys game without having to get up every twenty minutes to pee, missing all of the best plays!”  Perhaps I am old-fashioned, but wouldn’t it be more dignified to put that $50 toward getting the poor guy a DVR instead of asking him to unzip his pants and lean over a shop-vac while the rest of the family pretends they are unable to hear the sound of dripping urine. I can understand an Interstate traffic jam situation, but once you find a spot for it in the den you may need to pursue other options. On a side note, if you find yourself filling a five-gallon petroleum canister between Little Rock and Dallas, you might want to limit your fluid intake and immediately seek the advice of a medical professional.

The final installment in this series is the “Sauna Pants,” a pair of electrified vinyl shorts guaranteed to give you all the benefits of a heat sauna “in the area you need it most.” For $39.99 you can treat your waist, thighs, and buttocks to a good sweat and melt away all that pesky water weight. The product’s design allows it to accommodate up to a 52-inch waist and the adjustable temperature dial give you complete control over how much heat you wish to apply to your swimsuit area.

Even operating under the assumption that this worked, when could you use it? It is a pair of plastic underwear with a four-foot electrical cord that the manufacturer insists needs at least fifty minutes each day to produce results. Can you imagine walking into someone’s office and noticing that there crotch appears to be plugged into a 15 AMP circuit and a curious amount of moisture has appeared on the front of their trousers? I hate to even fathom the injuries that could be sustained from an ill-timed power surge. Combining this with a GoPilot would be downright criminal negligence. I can tell you that if there was one job I would not want, it’s working in this company’s returns department. I doubt there are enough Febreeze plug-ins in the world to erase the lingering odor of groin perspiration and self-loathing.