The "Organic Batter Blaster" is an aerosol can filled with pancake and/or waffle batter, making cooking breakfast as easy as splorting some starch onto a hot griddle. No clean up! (Except for the griddle, the tip of the E-Z Cheese-like container, the plates, and utensils.)

I use a mix to make pancakes most of the time, unless I'm making buttermilk pancakes. I'm not against mixes, per se, but it seems awfully wasteful to package this all in a steel can. And probably many times more expensive. I'm sure it'll be a big hit.

Product Page [BatterBlaster.com] (Thanks, Pork Musket!)

These made-to-order corkscrews from Sveid are €50,000 apiece. The small hook that is used to operate the corkscrew is 18-carat gold, but is also available in platinum, while the body is made from "aviation titanium." The video on their site does make it seem like I lovely bit of engineering, but all I can think about is how much wine €50,000 would buy. Surely a lifetime's worth.

Product Page [Sveid.com via Born Rich via Goldarths.com]

The culmination of American consumer electronics: the $130 starch-and-sugar-dispensing "Dough-Nu-Matic," an all-in-one machine that forms and fries mini-doughnuts in just under a minute. Without too much trouble I should be able to saw off the small plastic catch at the end and position my yawning maw directly underneath, each donut triggering an infrared sensor that activates a motorized belt attached to my jaw. Two jugs will be positioned over my head, one of milk, the other coffee, spraying a constant mist into my mouth to provide lubrication. Every twelfth doughnut will contain a creamy Klonopin filling.

At random intervals, a distant alarm will sound, barely discerned through the waxy lard that sloughs out of my ears, signifying that somewhere a war has been waged, an endangered species has passed irrevocably through the veil, or that one of my countrymen have been rendered to provide oil for my doughnut fryer. Knotted workmen will scamper across my cracking grey husk using psoriatic skin shards as hand holds, as I defecate an ever-spiraling wizard's tower of red, white, and blue.

Catalog Page [Skymall (Where else?) via CrunchGear]