Ah, the coupon section of the Sunday paper -- so glossy, so voluminous, so chock-full of scary new products. Every week, manufacturers try to bribe me to try their newest craptastic innovation, 40 or 50 cents at a time. It's a coffee-fueled nirvana for me every week.

I find extra joy when I can gross out Dilf with the stuff I find. This week, while I was nervously pondering the "new" organic Similac (whatever was it made from before?), I came across Hamburger Helper Microwave Singles. Betty Crocker is betting 50 cents that I'm too big a coward to try it. She's right; she can keep her money. Reconstituted freeze-dried beef? Isn't that the stuff they give to prisoners, or people trapped in the wilderness who have eaten all the nuts and berries and whose choices become narrowed to starvation, eating their hiking companions, or freeze-dried meat? Betty, you're gonna have to offer me a hell of a lot more than 50 cents, honey.

Healthy Choice Beef Pot Roast Soup sounded pretty disgusting to me as well. I mean, "pot roast soup" sounds vile, let alone a de-fatted, reduced-salt Healthy Choice version. And they wanted me to buy TWO soups before I got saved my 50 cents. That's not gonna happen.

But coupons aren't limited to items commonly found in grocery stores. This week, I somehow resisted the marketer's call for me to purchase a farting teddy bear. Somehow, I doubted their "guarantee" that the bear would provide "laughs for everyone." And you tell me, since you can see for yourself, is he "adorable?" Would you be "so charmed" that you wanted to "hug him again" after he farted in your arms?

I thought there were truth-in-advertising regulations in this country.

That's it for now. Although that's hardly it for the coupons.