Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader Weird Inventions (12 page)
Read Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader Weird Inventions Online
Authors: Bathroom Readers’ Institute
T
he story goes (even if it’s probably an urban legend) that in the 1950s, a movie theater in New Jersey flashed the words “Eat popcorn” on the screen, too quickly to be consciously perceived. Result: a massive increase in popcorn sales. Ever since, the idea of “subliminal messages” has been a curiosity for both the marketing and self-improvement industries.
In 1992 Canadians Faye Tanefsky and Michael R. McCaughey patented Subliminal Message Goggles in order to “impart a subliminal message to the wearer.” The patent credits the stereoscopic effect of human vision to the glasses’ ability to create a single image in the human brain when projected before both eyes. While it’s not entirely clear how stereoscopic vision relates to the effect of subliminal messaging, it sure makes the description sound science-y.
The patent holders included an illustration of aviator glasses (the patent does not make it clear whether a mirrored version would be available), along with four helpful illustrations of the kinds of messages supported by the glasses. One is a cigarette with a
Ghostbusters
-esque “No” circle; another was the same with a glass of booze. There is also a smiley face and what appears to be a ping-pong paddle, so as to, we can only speculate, subliminally influence the wearer to enjoy ping-pong more.
THE WORLD’S WEIRDEST VENDING MACHINES
S
untan lotion.
In 1949 the Star Manufacturing Company debuted this unusual invention at a vending machine convention in Chicago. It resembled a gas pump and gave users a 30-second “spray job” of suntain oil. Cost: 10 cents. The designers hoped the machines would become commonplace at public swimming pools, beaches, parks, or wherever people were too lazy to apply sunblock with their own hands, but only a handful were ever sold.
Bait.
In 1993 Pennsylvania fisherman Joe Meyer converted an old refrigerated sandwich-dispensing machine into an automated nightcrawler dispenser and sold it to Bob Williams, a bait shop owner. Williams now owns a company that distributes the machines, which dispense more than 10,000 bits of bait a week—each—during the height of fishing season. Imitators have since cropped up; over a thousand bait machines can be found across all 50 states.
Whiskey.
Evva debuted at a 1960 beverage exhibition in London: a bottled mix of whiskey and club soda, served cold. Just like unattended cigarette machines in restaurants and gas stations, Evva would have likely proven popular among teenagers, which is probably why the machines couldn’t find wide distribution.
Curling irons.
The U.K.-based Beautiful Vending created a vending machine in 2005 that can eliminate a bad hair day (or night) in just a few short minutes. Vending Stylers are wall-mounted contraptions that offer hair straighteners and curling irons. They typically cost a dollar for every minute of use. The machines can now be found in shopping malls, clubs, and fitness centers in over 35 countries.
Mashed potatoes.
These amazing machines can’t be found in stateside 7-Elevens, but they’re immensely popular at the chain’s locations in Singapore. For about a dollar, locals can, as the ad copy promises, “get their gravy on,” literally, with a heaping helping of mashed potatoes and brown gravy. The machines, which look like your average Slurpee dispenser, were created by Maggi, a sauce and instant-soup company owned by Nestlé. (For those who don’t like conventional mashed potatoes and gravy, barbecue sauce is also available.)
Cupcakes.
Sprinkles, a Beverly Hills–based bakery chain, opened its first “Cupcake ATM” in March 2012. The pastel-colored machine cranks out up to 1,000 treats a day and has been known to crash due to high demand. It takes credit cards, offers over a dozen varieties ranging from gluten-free to red velvet, and dispenses the cakes in cute little boxes. It also plays a delightful song about cupcakes.
I
f there’s any product in the world that consumers need to absolutely trust, a product for which nothing can be off, for which mistakes are inexcusable, it’s got to be the condom, that inexpensive piece of rubber millions use to prevent them from becoming parents or contracting a disease.
Which is why German inventor Jan Vinzenz Krause probably faces an uphill battle to get his invention, the spray-on condom, to penetrate the billion-dollar prophylactic market. Negating the argument that condoms diminish feeling, Krause simply found a way to liquify latex, and put it in a can. When the moment is right, a fellow doesn’t simply spray on a coat of latex; Krause’s “Jolly Joe” is comprised of a plastic tube into which a man inserts himself, which then sprays liquid latex from all directions. (It then takes a potentially mood-killing three minutes to dry.)
Krause, a sexual health educator, was inspired by “MacGyver,” the machines at a drive-through car wash, and his inability to find a condom that fit properly (sure, dude).
I
t used to be that if you wanted to demonstrate your affection for someone but were paralyzed by the fear of being exposed to insidious mouth-borne pathogens, a hearty handshake was your best bet. But thanks to the inventor of the Kissing Shield, sanitary romance is not dead.
The shield is a thin latex membrane stretched over a heart-shaped frame (you know, for romance), and it even comes equipped with a convenient carrying handle. It’s safe and practical, which of course are the cornerstones of any good romance. (Sorry, Romeo, you’ll have to supply your own surgical gloves for holding hands.)
The inventor of the Kissing Shield states that it is intended for kissing the “recipient of the user’s affection” (even the description is antiseptic) but is also useful for the old tradition of politicians kissing babies.
The natural evolution from the Kissing Shield is of course an entire line of hygienic romance products. We look forward to antibacterial-gel-filled candy, Clorox-laced Valentine’s Day cards, and giant, heart-shaped plastic bubbles you can ride around in.
R
eports of images appearing on toast are almost common these days—hardly anyone bats an eye when some guy in Ohio claims that an image of Liberace spontaneously appeared in the dark brown bits in his morning toast.
You no longer have to wait for the universe or your faulty toaster to bless you with an image burned into your bread, because industrial designer Sung Bae Chang has invented the Scan Toaster. It’s simple, really—it’s a standard toaster that connects to a computer via a USB cord. You use an imaging program to send a picture—any picture at all—to the toaster. The machine then etches the image into toasted bread.
This beats a similar item devised by a company called Yanko Design: the Note Toaster. Not much bigger than a slice of toast, this electronic breadbox features an e-ink display. The user writes a note on the display with a stylus—a grocery list or to-do list, for example—and the toaster burns it onto bread, creating an edible note to enjoy on your way out the door in the morning.
I
f there’s been one thing holding adult diapers back from widespread public acceptance, it’s a notable lack of sex appeal. After all, how do you add some marketing oomph to a product whose sole job is to make sure your own oomph doesn’t leak down your leg?
According to one enterprising inventor the answer is, of course, to replace the unsightly fasteners and excess material with thong straps. Because as Dame Fashion always says, “Maybe you can’t control your bowels, but you sure as hell can control how fabulous you look!” While removing protective material from an adult diaper doesn’t seem like the most prudent move, there is a tremendous upside. Thanks to the thong diaper’s slimmer, less bulky profile, whether or not it successfully performs its primary function, you’re sure to turn heads at the rec center.
Of course, the patent for the thong diaper doesn’t explicitly state that it isn’t actually meant for use with babies, but that alternative is simply too revolting to contemplate.
C
hen Yugang took about a year to figure out exactly how to make it work, but in 2012 he unveiled his tandem bike…on which two riders face each other and somehow pedal in the same direction without smashing into the ground or their knees into each other. One of the riders does have to pedal backward, though, like in romantic slow dancing. That just adds to the atmosphere of what Chen thinks is a romantic bicycle.
Chen’s device can be configured in a number of setups, based on the familiarity and relationship of the duo riding it. “Face-to-face is suitable for a parent and child, or dating couples,” Chen says. The back-to-back mode gives each rider a good view (and not of each other). Standard, double-front-facing style can also be arranged, but where’s the fun in that?
B
efore flush toilets became commonplace, people did their business while squatting. While this could get messy, it offered health benefits that have been largely forgotten in the modern age. Squat advocates (a real constituency) argue that sitting at a 90-degree angle is not how nature intended us to poop. According to them, squatting can help prevent colon cancer, constipation, hemorrhoids, and “cardiovascular incidents,” like the one that killed Elvis.
The Squatty Potty is a toilet adapter that lets users poop more easily from atop their regular toilets. The device fits over the seat and elevates the user at an angle more akin to squatting. It was invented in 2010 by Judy Edwards. A chronic constipation sufferer, she read about the squat method, and gave it a try. She stacked boxes and phone books in front of her toilet to serve as a squatting platform. This solved her problem, but having all that stuff sitting around was hardly convenient. After consulting with medical professionals to pinpoint the ideal height, position, and angle for squatting, Edwards and her son Robert created the first Squatty Potty.