I’ve never been a fan of Apple products. To me they’ve always been shiny empty cases with big price tags. Apparently, I’m not alone in my thinking; over the last nine years or so, a vibrant industry has arisen to fill this void. These days there are millions of shitty iPod attachments and iPhone apps out there and someone must be making serious bread off of this racket. And while I’m not necessarily a fan, I’m not above the fray of feeding off the rest of the iDdicted people out there. So, without further adieu, Bocephus’ Crazy iTachment Appstrvaganza is officially open for business!

Times are tough, and you are ready to go. Don’t grab that wrench and beat yourself over the head like a sadist; grab your iPod and hook up the iMfucked! Just a slight pinprick from the needle attachment of the iMfucked produces a numbing sensation followed by immediate death. You even get to pick the music you will go out to! It’s perfect for blind dates! Children love it; pets can’t get enough of it! Warning: not safe for use by children or pets. Reach for the iMfucked when you are ready to go with style.

Have you ever found yourself being lectured about how shitty your music is? Sure you have! In fact, I may have been the one who shamed you. You have been carrying around that iPod chock-full of The Jonas Brothers, Ashlee Simpson, Miley Cyrus, and Queensryche. I see you, and I’m here to help. Introducing the iSuck! Your music collection is garbage; fortunately, iSuck takes out the trash. Watch as your library vanishes before your very eyes and gets replaced with mine! You are now a huge fan of rap, jazz, classic rock and funk music. It’s a great gift for your girlfriend or sister-in-law! The iSuck: trust me, mine’s better.

Slow down there, smelly-ass! Have you been rolling in pig shit all day? Do people hang air fresheners on you? Do your coworkers have an inordinate amount of Glade Plug-ins hooked up at the office? Face it man, your pits reek and you need serious help. Lucky for you, you have the iStink! The iStink uses the headphone jack to liquefy and remove the silicon from any iPod’s processor chip, which is then mixed with mint before being excreted as a soothing deodorant gel. This gel also makes a delicious topping for ice cream and frozen yogurt! The iStink: when everyone else knows it too.

“But iPods are so last year, Bocephus; we all got iPhones now.” No shit! What do you think, I’ve had my head under a rock for the last few years? I got you, homie. How many lushes do we have out there? I bet you are having a drink while reading this. You might even be at the bar right now. If that’s the case, then I have the app for you (oh”¦ and get me a vodka tonic). Not sure if you had a few too many? The iBlow knows! Just whisper some sweet nothings into your iPhone and let the iBlow app analyze your blood alcohol content. As an added bonus, if you are above .08, the iBlow will prevent you from drunk dialing every filthy head doctor or sleaze mack in your phone book! The iBlow: when you shouldn’t.

Sure iPhones are cool, but you don’t want to look like a douche bag when you keep checking it all the time. You need the iDouche! This app keeps track of how many times you touch or lovingly caress your iPhone, take it out of your pocket and pretend to check your messages in front of hot girls, talk about it to other people, masturbate to/with it or smell it in a creepy way. After you have reached the preset douche quota, your iPhone will send a text message to your ex-girlfriend explaining that you want to get back together, e-mail bestiality porn to your mother, order you a custom-fit furry costume and make you piss yourself. The iDouche: if some dick is gonna to teach you a lesson, let that dick be you!

Come to Bocephus’ Crazy iTtachment Appstravaganza for all your iNeeds! On top of our own great apps and attachments, we have pirated, bootlegged and generic versions of nearly every app on the market! Don’t get caught paying retail! Our apps are only $29.95 apiece! How can we have these prices, you ask? WE ARE CRAZY!

Bocephus Chigger
bocephus@submergemag.com

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