Aroha Silhouettes created this incredible necklace. Hardcover books, crafted out of recycled vinyl records! A fusion of my very favorite things.
I can’t help but completely swoon over it. The other designs are eye catching (and sometimes tricking).
Aroha Silhouettes created this incredible necklace. Hardcover books, crafted out of recycled vinyl records! A fusion of my very favorite things.
I can’t help but completely swoon over it. The other designs are eye catching (and sometimes tricking).
Shakespeare’s Den has a great box that masquerades as a book.
I’m perplexed as to why they decided to call this particular item a Pandora’s Box. Here’s the explanation they give:
In Greek mythology, Pandora was the first woman on earth. She was created by Zeus, and endowed with gifts from the gods. Thus her name, Pandora, meaning “all-gifted,” fit well.
But when Prometheus stole fire from the heavens, Zeus punished him by stealing Pandora away and taking her to Epimetheus, Prometheus’ brother. He gave her a jar and forbid her from opening it. Pandora’s curiosity got the best of her and she opened it, and unleashed evil unto the world.
So if anybody tries to take a peak at your secret belongings, tell him/her that story!
Sure, why not.
I just found one type of satire I don’t yet own: food commentary. I’m eager to get a copy of The Devil’s Food Dictionary and feast my eyes (oooh…pun intended) on its vast array of fabricated entries.
From the website:
The market for food books appears, at last, to have begun devouring itself. Nearly every topic worth writing about has been written about, and the well of dependable, interesting information on food, once thought inexhaustible, is beginning to run dry.
In circumstances such as these, author Barry Foy believes that an honorable writer has nowhere to go but sideways, into the realm of lies, misleading claims, and baseless speculation. With nearly 1,100 entries on subjects ranging from ingredients to utensils to history to techniques, plus 246 footnotes, an extensive fraudulent bibliography, and 26 peculiar illustrations, The Devil’s Food Dictionary promises much-needed relief to the foodish reader who is sagging under the burden of informativeness and credibility.
Laying down the burden of credibility is a treat indeed.
Just look at a sample page:
That fabulous sausage image prompted me to seek out other works by the illustrator, John Boesche, to no avail. Hopefully there will be plenty in the book.
Eric Joyner has a penchant for painting two of my very favorite things: robots and donuts. Even better, robots and donuts TOGETHER, larger than life!
Can I please live in these fictional worlds? I’ll take the possibility of imminent destruction by robots if I can have mountains of dounuts.
Is it strange that I “relate emotionally” to this fellow? I like to be left alone with my treats.

Joyner also has a short animation, in which some of my favorite paintings come to life:
I need this book in a major way.
This combination of imagery does something wonderful to me on a fundamental level.
These “Dreade of Death” bookplates would make a lovely addition to my collectible books of various morbid oddities.
I’d have to dust off my calligraphy pens to inscribe my name.
Oh…my…
I MUST have Emilio Garcia’s Jumping Brain!
I love this thing so much, it’s ridiculous. One day…it will be mine. Oh yes.
There are many more photos in the lapolab Flickr site.
During the 1920’s, May Gibbs wrote a series of books: The Gumnut Adventures, featuring amazing (and mildly disturbing) characters such as “Snugglepie and Cuddlepot:”
And Obedelia:
May Gibbs (1877-1969) emigrated to Australia from England with her parents when she was four years old. Part of her childhood was spent at a farming homestead in Western Australia where Gibbs’ love of the unique species in the Australian bush developed. The nuts, leaves and flowers she discovered as a child provided a lifetime of inspiration for her iconic and imaginative illustration work.
Children everywhere couldn’t help but wonder when they saw such things, whether Gumnut Babies really did live there, especially when they could actually see their scribbly writing on the trees. Gibbs took what every child could easily find and gave it a fantasy life of its own.
I can’t help but wonder if this series resulted in hordes of very paranoid, frightened children.
You can actually buy the book on Amazon.
Source and more pictures/info.
Kikkerland is a really fun place to browse for interesting products and gift ideas.
Their puzzle section has some great anatomical models. For example:
I call this one “Techno Snail” due to his electric and somewhat alien qualities:

And this is where bacon comes from, kids:

Of course, I’m still partial to the Human Torso Model I received for my birthday`from Ronnie last year.
This made the blog rounds a little while ago, and I still haven’t gotten over how awesome it is:

It even features storage for various waffle toppings on the back. Dare I say, it’s a complete waffle CENTER.
“We must have waffles! We must have waffles Forthwith!”
(Thee cheers for finding a truly relevant use for this quote)
Some people never learn. And by some people, I mean me. I bookmarked the “Craziest Kewpie Doll” collection, because I absolutely had to have Gross Q.
Now he appears to be gone, replaced by Crap Q (this is one of those delightful moments when the literal title/expression is identical to the sarcastic joke I would have made describing it).
I have nothing against Crap Q, but Gross Q achieves the rarely seen fusion of two of my very favorite things: kitsch and anatomical models. *Sigh* Time to buy a Kewpie Doll and some paint, and get to work recreating this fleeting treasure.
Note: Strap-ya World is worth a look. I’ve never used a cell phone charm but it’s incredible to see the vast array of miniature absurdities here.