I just commented on a friend's post (about the recent craze for Stanley cups) and thought you might enjoy hearing a piece of my past. You are probably too young to remember this. Here's what I wrote:
In the history of commercial idiocy I plead guilty to spending real money ($4, back when they meant something) to buy a "Pet Rock" in 1975. It was an ordinary rock, like one you'd find on the ground, packaged in a cardboard box with air holes in it for "ventilation." What made the purchase sensible was an included brochure on "How To Care For Your Pet Rock," a funny piece of satire. In my defense I was a high school senior with an eccentric outlook on life.
The guy who sold pet rocks became a millionaire from the idea.
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