Uncle John's Ahh-Inspiring Bathroom Reader (77 page)

TRUST ME…
“Though neutral during WWII, Switzerland favored the Allied cause.”

SAID BY:
The inscription on a watch given to President Truman in 1946 by the city of Geneva

THE FACT:
The Swiss government helped finance the Nazi movement.

TRUST ME…
“I wasn't lying, Senator. I was presenting a different version of the facts.”

SAID BY:
Oliver North at the Iran-Contra Hearings, 1987

THE FACT:
No comment.

TRUST ME…
“I have never had my cheeks altered or my eyes altered. I did not have my lips thinned, nor have I had dermabrasion or a skin peel.”

SAID BY:
Michael Jackson

THE FACT:
Again, no comment.

Here are more winners of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, a literary challenge to compose the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels. (See page 75 for the rules.)

T
he lovely woman-child Kaa
was mercilessly chained to the cruel post of the warrior-chief Beast, with his barbarous tribe now stacking wood at her nubile feet, when the strong, clear voice of the poetic and heroic Handsomas roared, “Flick your Bic, crisp that chick, and you'll feel my steel through your last meal.”

—Steven Garman, Pensacola, Florida (1984 winner)

• The corpse exuded the irresistible aroma
of a piquant, ancho chili glaze enticingly enhanced with a hint of fresh cilantro as it lay before him, coyly garnished by a garland of variegated radicchio and caramelized onions, and impishly drizzled with glistening rivulets of vintage balsamic vinegar and roasted garlic oil; yes, as he surveyed the body of the slain food critic slumped on the floor of the cozy, but nearly empty, bistro, a quick inventory of his senses told corpulent Inspector Moreau that this was, in all likelihood, an inside job.

—Bob Perry, Milton, Massachusetts (1998 winner)

• Sultry it was and humid,
but no whisper of air caused the plump, laden spears of golden grain to nod their burdened heads as they unheedingly awaited the cyclic rape of their gleaming treasure, while overhead the burning orb of luminescence ascended its ever-upward path toward a sweltering celestial apex, for although it is not in Kansas that our story takes place, it looks godawful like it.

—Judy Frazier, Lathrop, Missouri (1991 winner)

• Through the gathering gloom
of a late-October afternoon, along the greasy, cracked paving-stones slick from the sputum of the sky, Stanley Ruddlethorp wearily trudged up the hill from the cemetery where his wife, sister, brother, and three children were all buried, and forced open the door of his decaying house, blissfully unaware of the catastrophe that was soon to devastate his life.

—Dr. David Chuter, Kingston, Surrey, England (1999 winner)

• The notes blatted skyward
as the sun rose over the Canada geese, feathered rumps mooning the day, webbed appendages frantically peddling unseen bicycles in their search for sustenance, driven by Nature's maxim, “Ya wanna eat, ya gotta work,” and at last I knew Pittsburgh.

—Sheila B. Richter, Minneapolis, Minnesota (1987 winner)

• “Ace, watch your head!”
hissed Wanda urgently, yet somehow provocatively, through red, full, sensuous lips, but he couldn't you know, since nobody can actually watch more than part of his nose or a little cheek or lips if he really tries, but he appreciated her warning.

—Janice Estey, Aspen, Colorado (1996 winner)

• Professor Frobisher couldn't believe
he had missed seeing it for so long—it was, after all, right there under his nose—but in all his years of research into the intricate and mysterious ways of the universe, he had never noticed that the freckles on his upper lip, just below and to the left of the nostril, partially hidden until now by a hairy mole he had just removed a week before, exactly matched the pattern of the stars in the Pleiades, down to the angry red zit that had just popped up where he and his colleagues had only today discovered an exploding nova.

—Ray C. Gainey, Indianapolis, Indiana (1989 winner)

• Paul Revere had just discovered
that someone in Boston was a spy for the British, and when he saw the young woman believed to be the spy's girlfriend in an Italian restaurant he said to the waiter, “Hold the spumoni—I'm going to follow the chick an' catch a Tory.”

—John L. Ashman, Houston, Texas (1995 winner)

• A small assortment of astonishingly
loud brass instruments raced each other lustily to the respective ends of their distinct musical choices as the gates flew open to release a torrent of tawny fur comprised of angry yapping bullets that nipped at Desdemona's ankles, causing her to reflect once again (as blood filled her sneakers and she fought her way through the panicking crowd) that the annual Running of the Pomeranians in Liechtenstein was a stupid idea.

—BRI member Sera Kirk, Vancouver, B.C. (2001 winner)

Εϖερ ηεαρ σομεονε σπεωινγ ϕαργον ανδ ωονδερ “Ωηατ τηε ηελλ αρε τηεψ ταλκινγ αβουτ?” Σο ηασ Υνχλε ϑοην. Ηερε∏σ α παγε φορ ανψονε ωηοσε εϖερ σαιδ “ Ιτ∏σ Γρεεκ το με.”

Γ
αρβαγε:
400,000 πουνδσ οφ “πιζζα σλυδγε” (φλουρ,
τοματο παστε, χηεεσε, πεππερονι, ετχ.)

Λοχατιον:
Ωελλστον, Οηιο

Σουρχε:
Α ϑενο'σ, Ινχ., φροζεν πιζζα πλαντ

Προβλεμ:
ϑενο'σ προδυχεδ σο μυχη ωαστε ιν τηειρ πιζζα φαχτορψ τηατ τηε λοχαλ σεωαγε σψστεμ χουλδν'τ αχχομμοδατε ιτ. Τηεψ χουλδν'τ βυρψ ιτ ειτηερ, βεχαυσε ενϖιρονμενταλ εξπερτσ σαιδ ιτ ωουλδ “μοϖε ιν τηε γρουνδ” ονχε τηεψ πυτ ιτ τηερε. Τηεψ ηαδ το τρυχκ ιτ ουτ.

Γαρβαγε:
27 ψεαρσ' ωορτη οφ ραδιοαχτιϖε δογ ποοπ

Λοχατιον:
Υνκνοων

Σουρχε:
Δεπαρτμεντ οφ Ενεργψ εξπεριμεντσ. Φορ αλμοστ τηρεε δεχαδεσ, τηε ΔΟΕ στυδιεδ τηε εφφεχτσ οφ ραδιατιον βψ φεεδινγ
3,700 βεαγλεσ ραδιατιον−λαδεν φοοδ. Εαχη ατε τηε φοοδ φορ α ψεαρ ανδ α ηαλφ, ανδ ωασ τηεν λεφτ το λιϖε ουτ ιτσ λιφε.

Προβλεμ:
Νο ονε αντιχιπατεδ τηατ ωηιλε τηε εξπεριμεντ ωασ γοινγ ον, τηε δογ−δοο ωουλδ βε δανγερουσ ανδ ωουλδ ηαϖε το βε τρεατεδ ασ ηαζαρδουσ ωαστε. Τηεψ σαϖεδ ιτ φορ δεχαδεσ… and φιναλλψ τοοκ ιτ το α ηαζαρδουσ ωαστε φαχιλιτψ.

Γαρβαγε:
1,000 πουνδσ οφ ρασπβερρψ γελατιν ανδ 16 γαλλονσ οφ ωηιππεδ χρεαμ

Λοχατιον:
Ινσιδε α χαρ ιν Προϖο, Υταη

Σουρχε:
Εϖαν Ηανσεν, α στυδεντ ατ Βριγηαμ Ψουνγ Υνιϖερσιτψ. Ηε ωον α ραδιο χοντεστ φορ “μοστ ουτραγεουσ στυντ” βψ χυττινγ τηε ροοφ οφφ α στατιον ωαγον ανδ φιλλινγ τηε χαρ ωιτη τηε δεσσερτ.

Προβλεμ:
Ηανσεν χουλδν'τ φινδ α ωαψ το γετ ριδ οφ τηε
ϑελλ−Ο. Ηε φιναλλψ δροϖε το α μαλλ παρκινγ λοτ, οπενεδ ηισ
χαρ δοορσ, ανδ δυμπεδ ιτ δοων α δραιν. Ηε ωασ φινεδ $500 φορ
ϖιολατινγ Υταη∋σ Ωατερ Πολλυτιον Χοντρολ Αχτ.

It wasn't long ago that when you saw a product advertised on TV, you went to the store to buy it. Then came the infomercial. Here's the quintessential infomercial success story, the true tale of a washed-up producer who paired a washed-up product with a washed-up celebrity…and made a fortune.

For most people it isn't easy figuring out what to do with your life. For Peter Bieler, a Canadian who graduated from college in the mid-1960s, it was next to impossible.

First he wanted to devote his life to spiritualism and lived a monk-like existence of prayer, meditation, and self-denial. But he got tired of that after a couple of years, so he found a job with the consumer products giant Procter & Gamble. He tired of that a few years later, so he went to film school, then managed a rock concert hall in Los Angeles, then landed a job with a TV producer.

After that he got a job at the American Film Institute, after which he decided to become an independent film producer. That turned out to be harder than he thought it would be, so he tried out a job with a company making specialty videos. VCRs were still pretty new, and he was hoping to cash in on the boom.

By now it was 1986. Bieler had spent about 20 years figuring out what to do with his life, and he still hadn't figured it out.

Bieler struggled at making videos, too; even his most successful production,
The Eight-Week Cholesterol Cure,
hosted by Larry King, was a dud. His whole division was losing money. “I had no budget for promotion or marketing,” Bieler writes in his book
This Business Has Legs.
“All this hard work, and the videos just sat on the shelf and collected dust. It was frustrating.”

The company where Bieler worked also had its own production studio that it rented to outside producers. It was constantly buzzing with activity, and one day Bieler went to see what was going on.

The studio was being rented by a man named Tony Hoffman to produce a two-hour infomercial called
Everybody's Money Matters.
Hoffman and his co-host Bob Braun sold their own books and also interviewed other authors selling the same kinds of get-rich-quick books and tapes: how to buy property with no money down, how to get low-interest loans from the government, etc. The show aired on cable at night when airtime was cheap, so it cost only about $7,500 to broadcast the two-hour show nationwide.

And on a good night the show generated more than $80,000 in cash sales of books and tapes direct to the public through the show's 800 number—a heck of a lot more than Bieler's division was making by selling videos to retail outlets.

Bieler went to his boss and suggested that the company itself get into the infomercial business instead of just renting out the studio to outside producers. His boss wasn't interested, so Bieler formed his own company, which he named Ovation. But what would he sell?

Rather than try and invent something on his own, Bieler went to county fairs, home and garden shows, any place where he thought pitchmen might be demonstrating new products to live audiences. He finally settled on a chemical powder that turned spilled liquids into dried slush, which could then be vacuumed or scooped up by hand. He named the product “Gone.” It was interesting stuff, but it couldn't do anything that paper towels couldn't do for a lot less money. The infomercial bombed.

Bieler looked around for another product to sell. He found it with help from an entrepreneur named Josh Reynolds, who had made a fortune in the 1970s inventing the “mood ring,” a ring that changed colors according to changes in body temperature, supposedly revealing your mood.

Reynolds wasn't having much luck with a new product he was trying to market, an exerciser invented by a Los Angeles chiropractor to help skiiers with broken legs maintain the tone in their good leg while the broken one healed. Called the “V-Toner,” the product was little more than two foam-padded triangular handles extending from a central steel spring to form a V-shaped angle.

When you squeezed the two handles together, the spring in the center provided resistance, which helped build muscle tone.