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I love Japanese convenience products born out of blended east and west needs and Pop Culture, especially ones by way of Vietnam as this toilet product is. In this case, not only are the translations awkward but the product is too. You affix these strips that look somewhere between oversized sanitary pads and shoe inserts on the rim of your toilet seat and then peel them off after you remove your “bottom”, only to use them again the next time you rest on the porcelain throne. Apparently, this saves you the trouble of washing the toilet seat or worrying that you’re going to be sitting on someone else’s nasty stuff. I, personally, would still be concerned as I don’t want to be bending over the facilities trying to flick up the end of some reusable Paper Toilet Seat Cover Paste. And what does that name mean anyway?

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Are the pads/shoe inserts that are looking more and more like strips of sticky fly paper a toilet seat cover or are they paste? I don’t know that I want to be hovering over the bowl to come to a final decision. Besides, the full name of the product appears to be Paper Toilet Seat Cover Paste Well Type with Pattern. This would take an entire day of sitting on the toilet to try and figure out and I have a feeling that more solid fact would end up in the toilet than in my head.

One of my favorite things about this product is the slogan that equates a toilet with life itself.

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I haven’t really found that there’s that direct of a relationship between the two.

“Unlike a conventional toilet seat, installation and removal is very easy.”

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Well, uh, yeah, a toilet seat is an actual part with some weight and mechanics involved ensuring functionality and stability whereas the Paper Toilet Seat Cover Paste Well Type with Pattern is just two confusing strips of paper that forces one to make contact with the actual toilet seat while assuming that perhaps the person whose “bottom” occupied it before you did not have the benefit of owning their own Paper Toilet Seat Cover Paste Well Type with Pattern. This is not where I would want to be placing my hands to retrieve my fly strips.

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For cleaning, just rinse with warm water. However, to most efficiently dry your seat covers one must find a “spin-drier” as opposed to using “a drying machine”.

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What is a drying machine? A microwave? I don’t know about you but I don’t want anything I just pulled off my toilet anywhere near where I tweak my food.

It also says that if you choose natural drying you must keep the strips in the shade, paying attention “not to allow dust on the backside”.

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It seems to me that the whole point of the strips in the first place is “not to allow dust on the backside”.

Further instructions for correct usage of Paper Toilet Seat Cover Paste Well Type with Pattern prove just as confusing as the name of the product itself. “Do not use clippers since use of such items results in traces on the absorption surfaces”.

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I would be constipated by the time I really figured out what that meant.

And then there’s this: “be careful when washing or drying the sheets with the absorption surfaces facing each other that they do not permanently adhere together”.

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Am I supposed to get inside the spin-dryer with the strips in order to prevent this?

All in all though I’m happy to own the Paper Toilet Seat Cover Paste Well Type with Pattern as it goes very nicely with what’s hugging my toilet right now, the “Warm Cover Of Toilet Bowl”, another toilet sensation from the Orient.

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Thank you, aKitschionado Margaret Lewis, for your generous contribution of one Paper Toilet Seat Cover Paste Well Type with Pattern to The Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch at AWMOK.com!

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I’m not sure which kitsch factor I enjoy most about this made in Japan Portable Banana Keeper,  the fact that it’s pierced with hearts because it loves bananas so much,…

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…or that you can wear it as a necklace,…

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…or that the little latches that keep your banana secure are so hard to pop open it will only last for two or three reloadings,…

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…or that my cat loves it…

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…or that there’s a special one for green bananas…,

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…so special, in fact, that it’s called a Banana Case…

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…as opposed to its yellow big brother,…

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…The Banana Keeper,…

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…and is scientifically designed with tiny holes instead of large hearts…

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…to ripen your fruit quicker despite the fact that few people I know would walk around with their banana around their neck for days while they waited for it to ripen.

Or maybe it’s simply the fact that all bananas aren’t created equal and some don’t fit into their new home.

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Whatever the case may be, I love plastic convenience products from Japan. And I don’t really care if the Banana Keeper/ Banana Case works or lasts at all as long as it continues to make my cat happy.

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Thank you, aKitschionado Margaret Lewis, for your generous contribution of one Banana Case and two Banana Keepers to The Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch at AWMOK.com!

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Every morning I wake up to a pile of notes that I’ve dropped on the floor from my bed the night before as I don’t like to keep anything in my head so I have a running chance of falling asleep. My M.O. is to scribble things down as soon as I think of them anyway so no brain space is occupied with to do lists or thoughts of any kind and creative ideas have ultimate room to race around and breed.

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In general, I’m better at tackling things in the morning than letting them make mush of whatever brain cells are left by midnight but I will remember nothing unless it’s immortalized in solid print somewhere. This method works fine for me but it’s a horrifying sight every morning to see the river of notes that await me and threaten to overtake my day. So they all end up under this handy little 1950’s transparent plastic “Don’t Forget” hand that psychologically improves my mood just looking at it holding the tasks in place that lie before me.

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Of course, within days the girth of the pile is enough to tip “Don’t Forget” over but I love the feel of the lightweight hand made in Hong Kong and never mind picking it up and rifling through the first couple of notes to see if there’s anything I can stand doing at the moment, thereby whacking away at the pile.

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But most of the time I just spend looking at the delicate hand and ever-growing pile it’s meant to serve and protect. Everything eventually ends up getting done and I enjoy crumpling up the tasks and throwing them into the shredder so that they may eventually return to their natural pristine paper state and I can start scribbling on them all over again so my third hand has something to do.

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It’s no secret that one of my favorite genres of Kitsch is when something goes tragically wrong in the manufacturing process of the product yet it still hits the store shelves. In this case, the fumble occured on the packaging assembly line. Inserted snuggly inside The “Chuckwagon” combination salt and pepper shaker box is one combination salt and pepper shaker that, in the spirit of the old West, reads “Travel Joy, Travel Luxury – Airstream”. I don’t know about you but the last Airstream I saw didn’t have a wagon wheels and wasn’t being pulled by a horse.

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There’s not really anyone to blame as there’s no sign of a manufacturer anywhere on the box or on the shaker itself. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen that before in a commercial product. It’s as if they knew they were going to insert the wrong thing in the wrong box and didn’t want to be blamed when that happened.

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Whatever the reason for the forgetfulness or sloppiness or just plain brain-tweaked-so-tight-these-kind-of-mistakes-are-bound-to-happen,I for one am ecstatic because it has given me a completely unique piece of Kitsch from something that, if they had just decided which product it was, The”Chuckwagon” or The “Airstream”, would have been very cute but not as KITSCHTASTIC as it is now.

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Because of their perfect shape and glowing color the orange has captured the imagination of designers since the beginning of time. In this case, the glowing hive is cut into four perfect  horizontal slices making for four different measuring cups, each daintily festooned with a little leaf handle. One would think because of the precision round shape of an orange that this dividing up into four sections should happen with no mishaps. But to this kitsch lover’s heart’s delight two different size slices are labeled 1/3 cup.

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This shouldn’t affect any mis-measurement here at Willis Wonderland as cooking is not among my many skills. Instead, I use this as a candy and nut dish, four levels for four different snacks.

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I’ve never been the type to naturally gravitate toward fruits and vegetables though oranges are the one healthy snack I can eat without being force-fed, even if they’re not ceramic.

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I still like the kitschen accessory orange the best.

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It’s not often I get excited by a dish or bowl that’s solid white. It seems like such a missed opportunity for self-expression via a compelling color palette. But this brilliant sweep of 18 inches of ceramic, a stone cold product of the Space Age Atomic 1950’s, screams to be pristine hospital white, especially when its cargo is this complimentary of a match:

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I’m not sure what the hole on the bottom is for as there are no breaks in the surface at the top but who am I to argue when the dish is so beautiful?

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I’ve taken about 40 photos trying to get the manufacturers mark to show up better but it’s a series of blurry failed attempts. It almost makes you seasick to stare at it through human eyes let alone a camera lens. If I had created such beautiful work I’d be sure my name was a little more readable, throw some aqua glaze into the etching or something. To remedy this, I grabbed my one digital camera I’ve never been able to let go of, my Canon PowerShot SD 500, a cheap little thing that takes better macro shots than any camera I’ve owned. Between my cheap but reliable macro and cranking the levels and contrast up I can now tell you that this bowl was made by:

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Imperfect signature execution or not, this is one of my favorite serving dishes I own. Thank God the sculptor was better at dragging their clay tool across smooth concave surfaces than signing their name. Not many Good & Plentys could have fit in those tiny crevices anyway.

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In 1973 when the Ronco Miracle Broom sprung on the market half of the households in America started vacuuming their shag with this revolutionary cordless electric vacuum cleaner.  That’s reason enough to collect it now but with products like this, especially those made in the 70’s and especially in the genre of products sold on TV – the Miracle Broom was among the first of hard-sell filmed TV commercials hawking new and unique products birthing what would later be known as the infomercial – oftentimes the box was as good as the product that came in it. Not to say that this Streamlined Moderne-meets-70’s-modern looking gadget isn’t great in and of itself but the graphics showing suggested uses of the product are even better. Blown out color, cheesy furniture and excellence in hand modeling being some of the pillars of that greatness. Here’s one of my favorite shots:

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The crumbs are SO over-exaggerated. I’d like to know who eats toast leaving crumbs this big and in this formation? Only a chipmunk or someone without teeth was capable of creating this mess.

For this shot Ronco spared no expense on the tablecloth. Then again, they wanted you to concentrate on the crumbs. Seems to me they should’ve called the toothless person back to create better crumbs though as these don’t seem that serious.

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I love how the ashtray is overturned in this next one. Even more, I love the pattern on the tie of the man wielding the Miracle Broom. Even more, I love that Ronco was evolved enough to have men doing some of the cleaning.

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I can’t figure out what spilled on the following car seat. It’s somewhere between Red Hots, vomit or that crumbled fauna stuff you buy at craft stores to make little trees out of.

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The Ronco Miracle Broom was the stuff of legend in the 1970’s, a massive lunge forward in the revolution of products designed with style, convenience and innovation in mind that began in the post-World War II Atomic Age. I may have shed the shag carpeting over the years but the double D’s are always on hand to pop into my Miracle Broom whenever I’m too lazy to completely chew my toast.

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A petite 4″ x 6″, this little metal tip tray was a promotional item given away in the 1950’s by the AMI corporation to celebrate their massive line of  exclusive multi-Horn, high fidelity sound system jukeboxes. It’s  been sitting in my recording studio collecting guitar picks for as long as I can remember after originally being brought in as a drink coaster after I ruined several keyboards with an avalanche of Diet Coke, Yoo-hoos and decaf.

Sunday night I was in Sonoma, CA. writing with Pomplamoose. We were shooting to finish three songs in four days. The work never stopped even when we went out to dinner as is evidenced by my little digital recorder that was on for four solid days capturing every thought and breath we had.

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But when it came time to pay the check I reached out to lay the tip down and knocked over a bowl of lentils, dousing the recorder with a river of Indian goo. So every time I went to record after that I had to push down extra hard on the buttons to break through the crust that seeped into and dried in the recorder. If only the AMI JukeBox Tip Tray had been there so there was a nice designated and protected area to deposit the gratuity I would still have a recorder that didn’t smell like Bombay.

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Without question, these are by far my favorites of the 50 or 60 pairs of headphones that I own. Although of no use whatsoever in my recording studio as their sole purpose is to wear them to listen to the radio they still are the best looking set of phones I’ve ever seen.headphones-music-muffs_6724

I oftentimes wear these two-speaker-but-not-really-stereo Music Muffs when a collaborator is working on something that I either don’t view as crucial to the record or something I know it’s better to just let them run with without any kind of censoring from a collaborator. So rather than sit there and get annoyed or bored I just tune them out and listen to AM radio.

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I didn’t bring my Music Muffs with me on my trip up north to work with Pomplamoose where I am right now racing to finish three SMASH songs as the voluminous amount of percussion instruments that I stuffed into my suitcase didn’t allow room for the precious radio headphones cargo.

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Pomplamoose has their own headphones but there’s not enough inputs into their audio interface so only two people have the luxury of listening to what they’re harmonizing to.  The other person steers blind.

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Most people couldnt work this way.  But this group, just like me, thrives on spontaneity and working within insane limits, all of which adds life to the music.  This always happens when one must rely on their imagination to create great sounds as opposed to their pocketbook or massive array of equipment.

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Though I do wish my Music Muffs had made the trip as the hard drive that I tripped over that all the video was being directly recorded to is being rushed to the hard drive doctor as we speak. In the meantime, I’m writing this post and trying to stay calmmmmmmmmmmm without the aid and distraction of beautiful mono sound.

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And we just keep on singing…

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This 100% genuine  piece of plastic toast wallet looks just like the real thing right down to the butter starting to melt into the cushiony fake leather wonderfulness of it all. It feels like  a big marshmallow in your hands and makes pulling out endless streams of cash a slightly more pleasant procedure.

Made in China for Accoutrements, the wallet is jumbo sized as if it needed to be big enough to accommodate a certifiKitsch of AuthentKitschity to vouch for the legitimacy of each dollar extracted from it.

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Maybe it’s a psychological thing to make you feel like there’s a never ending well of money tucked inside. One way or another, I like keeping this little snack in my purse. Sometimes I alternate with my other favorite wallet that’s more normal sized though still inedible but goes well with the toast wallet.

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The bacon wallet even has matching shoes:

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The toast wallet has no such matching ensemble but should it ever get cold enough here in LA I swear it’s large enough that I could tuck my hands into the marshmallowy flaps and stay warm.

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