Paul Marinaccio, a 65-year-old resident of Clarence, New York, last month became a millionaire when his property was swarmed with frogs during construction on a nearby real estate project. The developer had diverted water runoff towards Marinaccio’s home, and hundreds of puddle-loving frogs followed. Instead of rejoicing that his property would be fly-free, Marinaccio wigged out, thanks to a lifelong fear of frogs.

Marinaccio’s frog phobia stems from a childhood assault by a neighbor in his native Italy. The poor kid was out looking for figs to eat, he recently told the The New York Times, and was chased away by a man holding two large bullfrogs. Ever since, the sound of “riddip!” has filled him with fear.

In 2006, Marinaccio sued Clarence, claiming that he couldn’t enter or leave his house because it was surrounded by big green croakers. “In the winter, it’s okay, because I know there’s no frogs,” Marinaccio told a court reporter. “But, in the summertime, I mean, I’m a damn prisoner in my own home.” The court ultiamtely awarded the anti-amphibian fellow $1.6 million.

Marinaccio would do well to keep that cash from Wayne Klinkel’s golden retriever, Sundance. The Montana man claims that he won’t be able to afford to pay this year’s taxes because his pup gobbled up five $100 bills when he was left unattended in his master’s car for 45 minutes. Klinkel has asked the federal government to replace the bills.

We are not making this up.

The 12-year-old dog, Klinkel says, “has been getting weirder and weirder as he gets older, and he will pretty much eat anything and everything.”

Klinkel told the Montana Independent Record that, for days after the incident, he followed his pooch around with a pair of rubber gloves and a plastic baggie hoping that the cash would exit Sundance undigested. Once he retrieved large parts of two different bills; he washed, dried, ironed and re-assembled the bills with scotch tape, then took them to the U.S. Treasury Department’s Bureau of Engraving and Printing and asked them to replace the money, because, apparently, that Department does such things.

“I hope the publicity my case has gotten will expedite things,” Klinkel told the Record, where he works as a graphic designer. “Otherwise, it could take up to two years for me to get my money replaced.” 

On the other hand, Klinkel might end up getting fined by animal rights activists, if they get wind of his having left his pet in an automobile for the better part of an hour. 

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The machine – no kidding – makes tight, white rolls of toilet paper out of old TPS reports and color graph printouts.

The appliance’s built-in shredder first slices, then pulps, the paperwork before adding water, drying and rolling the former refuse into something more serviceable than old-fashioned landfill.

While on-line user commentary about the paper’s efficacy and softness have been, er, harsh, there’s no denying that the machine’s got a future. While it takes upwards of half an hour to produce a single roll, office workers will almost certainly embrace the opportunity to use their most recent performance review as toilet paper. 

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Largely. Because, while no such medicine currently exists, recent breakthroughs in aesthetic science are allowing the more vain among us to banish grey hair by popping a pill.

“It’s absolutely one hundred percent safe,” insists Cathy Beggan, president of Rise-N-Shine, LLC, and founder of Go Away Gray, a just-launched hair-coloring agent that one swallows with a swig of water.

Beggan says that the secret ingredient in her magic pill is an enzyme called catalase, which counteracts the body’s natural production of hydrogen peroxide. “Our bodies produce hydrogen peroxide, which bleaches our hair from the inside out,” she says. “Our bodies also produce an enzyme called catalase that breaks down the hydrogen peroxide. When we don’t produce enough catalase, the hydrogen peroxide cannot be broken down. As a result, hair is bleached from the inside out, turning it gray.”

Go Away Gray, Beggan swears, puts the catalase back into our systems and busts up the production of peroxide, halting the graying process and allowing natural hair color to return. The product, which has yet to receive a wide distribution, does away with the use of hair-dying chemicals that are potentially harmful to both the user’s skin and the environment, since dyes get washed into waterways and groundwater aquifers, creating possible environmental risks.

The FDA hasn’t weighed in yet on Go Away Gray’s efficacy. While we wait to hear about possible side effects of gobbling catalase twice a day, we can only imagine what Miss Clairol has to say. 

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While much of America is tightening its drunk-driving laws, a county in southwestern Ireland has put those laws into reverse. According to the Kerry County Council, at least, it’s now legal for rural residents to drive home from the local pub after throwing back a few pints. Passed with a vote of five to three, the controversial council motion will culminate next month in the creation of a special permit that will allow rural drinkers to drive drunk.

[Insert politically incorrect wisecrack about the Irish love of drinking here.]

Lauded by Independent Councilor Danny Healy-Rae, the law is meant to “help prevent depression and suicide in isolated country areas.” While addressing the Council, Healy-Rae – presumably sober at the time – argued that rural residents typically drive home from a pub on rural roads with very little traffic and that they “have never killed anyone.” The new law will, he insists, bring back an important social activity for lonely people that had been lost, thanks to recent and ever-stricter drunk-driving laws.

No one will be surprised to learn that Healy-Rae owns a pub himself in nearby Kilgarvan, County Kerry. He argued that his customers are traveling very minor roads, and are often on tractors. “It’s not right,” he says, “they’re being treated the same as the rest of the traveling public.”

Ireland’s Road Safety Authority spokesman, Noel Brett, has countered Healy-Rae’s argument by pointing out that, to date, the greatest number of road accident deaths and injuries have occurred in rural locations. 

Hic.

None of this would fly in hyper-vigilant America, where one can’t even get away with abusing one’s own children without the cops swooping in. Forty-two-year-old William Province, for instance, was arrested in Jefferson County, Montana, last month and charged with allegedly water-boarding four boys, two of whom were his own sons.

Province was hauled away from a Montana airport, where he’d just returned from a trip to Alaska, and charged with subjecting the boys, the youngest of whom was nine, to a water-torture technique that simulates drowning. Province reportedly claimed that he meant the exercise as a “learning experience.”

Earlier that week, a man named Kirill Bartashevitch was charged with threatening his high school-age daughter and allegedly pointing a just purchased AK-47 at her head. The child had, according to police reports, brought home a report card with two Bs on it, rather than the straight As that her father expected.

Bartashevitch, who is Irish, was reportedly sober at the time. 

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The just-launched HAPItrack is an activity tracker that motivates users to be more active, while measuring their success at staying in shape. Crammed into the pocket of your jeans or clipped to a patented HAPItrack belt clasp, this gizmo collects and saves information, such as how many steps you’ve taken today, how far you’ve walked, the duration of your morning workout, and how many calories all this movement has burned.

It’s a great innovation, really – a tiny machine that handles all the boring calculations concerning your exercise regimen. However, should you HAPItrack too fast, this presumably “happy” gadget will vibrate to remind you to slow down. This takes it all a step further, going all “Hal from 2001” on you by sending you personalized motivational speeches to keep you on the straight and narrow. Who wouldn’t be more inclined to “keep up the good work” after receiving a text message from the little plastic thing that’s snapped onto their belt?

HAPItrack is the brainchild of HAPIlabs, the same folks who last year brought you the super-goofy HAPIfork, an eating utensil that counts how many bites of food you take during a meal, and how quickly. The fitness-tracker includes a mobile app that gives you access to a web site that logs your daily steps, sleep and meals, and then generates coaching and advice based on that data. Critics are calling HAPItrack a rip-off of the Fitbit Tracker, a wireless-enabled, wearable device that was launched last year and offers similar personal-metrics information to its users. But the HAPI version of Fitbit offers an otherworldly option: It measures sleep quality by determining how long it takes the wearer to fall asleep, how often they wake up over the course of the night, and how long they are actually asleep.

All of this is well and good, but how long before someone invents a machine that will just do the exercising for us? That’s the widget we want to see. 

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Paul Babeu

More than proving that we live in a deeply divided country, the 2012 elections established, once and for all, the fact that there’s no such thing as a good deed going unpunished – at least among politicians running for office.

We’re talking about Paul Babeu, who dropped his congressional bid last May after one of his former boyfriends outed the Pinal County sheriff and accused him of threatening to deport the poor slob, whose visa was expired. Babeu sought re-election as county sheriff, thus causing every wag who laughed at the thought of a gay sheriff being re-elected to eat his words when Babeu handily won his race by a wide margin on November 6.

“Santiaga”

Apparently, sullied reputations are the new black in political races. Colleen Lachowicz won her contest for a Maine state senate seat even after a nasty campaign by opponents who made much of her admitted “addiction” to the on-line game, World of Warcraft. (Lachowicz’s Warcraft character is named Santiaga and is, according to the senator herself, “an orc-level 85 assassination rogue” possessing green skin, fangs, a Mohawk and pointy ears.) “Certainly,” one opposing-party official was quoted as saying, “the fact that she spends so much time on a video game says something about her work ethic and level of immaturity. Is this really who we want in office?”

Kerry Bentivolio

Michigan’s 11^th Congressional District representative, Kerry Bentivolio who makes his living as a reindeer farmer, was lambasted publicly by his own brother, who described Bentivolio as “mentally unbalanced.” Bentivolio won re-election with no trouble. Elsewhere in Michigan, Brian Banks was elected as a state representative from Detroit with 68 percent of the vote, even though his rap sheet includes eight felony convictions for writing rubber checks and using other people’s credit cards. His campaign slogan? “You can bank on Banks.”

Then again, these races may have been won thanks to help from volunteers at polling places. Just before a primary election in June, an Albuquerque news station apparently caught a poll worker on camera offering tiny bottles of whiskey to potential voters during shuttle rides to early voting centers. And Los Angeles’ KCBS-TV reported that pamphlets sponsored by the Progress and Collaboration Slate for its local candidates in Eagle Rock, California, offered $40 worth of “medical-grade marijuana” as a special incentive for voting. (Not every politico got away with offering free attitude enhancements during election season. Carme Cristina Lima, who ran for town councilor in Itacoatiara, Brazil, was arrested on the campaign trail for allegedly passing out packets of cocaine, which were stapled neatly to her promotional leaflets.)

Who needs a platform when you’ve got questionable morals?

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Go-getters who’ve long resented the minutes wasted while bathing will be thrilled with Aqua Notes, an already-bestselling, waterproof notepad that allows the busy-minded to organize their thoughts while shampooing, make a shopping list while rinsing off, or – as the brand’s packaging giddily suggests – “draw, sketch, or doodle in the shower!” No more soggy notes scribbled onto a plain old paper pad left on the back of the toilet; the 21^st century has provided us with new technologies that will help banish our need to focus on trivial matters like bathing.

Reading on the toilet is no longer enough, either. Those who want to combine their morning yoga stretches with another daily chore will be thrilled with Adjustable Advantage, which, according to a press release, allows its users to “improve your posture while using the toilet!” The movable seat improves blood flow, reduces knee pain and relieves pressure on the sciatic nerve – all while one is relieving oneself!

President Lyndon Johnson, it’s been rumored, used to conduct business meetings while on the john. Perhaps, inspired by this early form of multi-tasking, Japanese toilet designers have come up with the Toto Intelligent Toilet, a pricey device that not only provides wi-fi access (thus enabling users to Skype into office meetings or just chat with friends), but also allows its owner to skip annual trips to the doctor. The Toto device includes a special receptacle inside the bowl that collects urine, then tests it for sugar content and elevated temperatures. An armband attached to the commode monitors blood pressure, and a scale built into the seat measures body weight. Toto is reportedly working on an updated version that will automatically e-mail these test results to one’s general practitioner.

Finally, for those who find showering an unbearable time-waster, there’s the new Horizontal Shower from a German bathroom fittings firm called Dornbracht, which allows its owner to nap while also getting clean. The invention’s low, narrow stall employs what Dornbracht calls “water bars” that spray bathers horizontally. Water temperature and intensity are controlled by a high-tech control panel at face-height; settings include “Relax” and “De-Stress,” both of which are certainly necessary for people who work so hard they can afford a shower stall that costs $35,000.

How long, one wonders, before these time-saving contraptions are combined? Will 2013 bring us a reclining shower stall fitted with a wi-fi-enhanced toilet, one that allows us to teleconference while bathing, and includes a mechanized flossing attachment and a mute button to mask flatulence?

We’re counting the minutes.

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City officials in Bulawayo, the second largest city in Zimbabwe, have asked residents to help clear toilet waste that has accumulated in sewers by adhering to a strict – we kid you not – flushing schedule.

Late last month, Bulawayo city spokesperson, Nesisa Mpofu, asked all Bulawayans to flush their toilets simultaneously at 7:30 p.m. on Mondays and Thursdays. Mpofu told citizens that synchronized flushing will help move waste through the country’s “old and overburdened” sanitation system, which is lately worsened by a growing urban population, water shortages and a troubled economy.

The official request was neither expertly worded nor especially well received. A misunderstanding among the general populace led to outrage over the notion of flushing one’s toilet only twice a week.

“No, no, no!” Mpofu shot back in a second press conference. “What kind of country would this be if toilets were allowed to lie stagnant for days?”

We don’t know. A smelly one? 

After Mpofu assured residents that they can also flush their johns anytime they like, the citizenry settled down. Still, local activist groups gathered to criticize the proposed solution as “ridiculous” and “an insult to people’s dignity.”

Magondonga Mahlangu, a local activist against the nation’s lousy public service, complained that the council’s proposed “big flush” is no solution to any problem. 

“It just goes to show that someone in the council has lost touch with the real issues on the ground and is failing to deal with real problems,” Mahlangu sniped.

She went on to say that the city authorities needed to consider actually fixing the aging water and sewer pipes, which have not been replaced in years, and that the city’s residents have enough challenges in their day-to-day lives (including unemployment and a failing economy) without being further asked to remember to flush their toilets at a certain time.

“It’s not like people have nothing better to do,” Mahlangu said. 

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Good news: So is British adman, Ben Gough, and he’s done something about it. Gough had some design-team pals mock-up some clever and completely spurious fake magazine covers to slip over his pricey monthly copy of advertising trade journal, Lürzer’s Archive. As often happens these days, Gough’s office prank went viral, and now he and his firm are all over the news.

Think Wacky Packs and Mad Magazine spoofs for grownups. Among the better faux covers are: Spread Sheet Enthusiast (sample headline: “Know Your ASCII from Your Elbow!”); Account Man Monthly (“How to Spot Creativity, Plus How to Kill It”); and Doily News Quarterly (“Inside: How to Repair a Hole in Your Doily!”).

Now, subscribers to Lürzer’s Archive are offered one of the silly covers to protect their treasured rag, but the whole scheme seems counterproductive. Won’t readers who spot a copy of De-Worming World (cover blurb: “Free Surgical Wipe for Every Reader!”) be more likely to take it home for laughs than they would any old ad-world mag? 

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No, really. And why not? Isn’t half the known world already ooooh-ing and aaaah-ing over videos of Fluffy flushing the toilet and Boots and Mittens discovering their first ball of yarn? We are, and the folks at the Walker are on to us.

In fact, much of the audience for the late summer event had already seen most of the clips being screened, having ogled them on YouTube while they were supposed to be working. No matter. It was only a matter of time before someone acknowledged that, in the great time-suck that is the Ethernet, the cat video rules supreme. In this case, it was Walker event programmer, Katie Hill, who originally pitched the festival as a kind of joke. But her bosses saw the event as a good fit with its new, experimental, public programming venture, and shortly Hill found herself jurying a panel that viewed every one of the 10,000 videos submitted. She and the jury grouped the selected videos into categories, such as Foreign, Art House and Documentary, then narrowed the list even further. Finally, a festival was born – one featuring Snooky, the tabby, cat-handling a metronome; another, a French long-hair bemoaning its very existence; and a slew of short “films” in which kittens rode on vacuum sweepers.

Meow.  

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