There’s so much to say about this product.
Let’s begin with the fact that someone thought that this was a good idea.
A golf club designed to hold a player’s urine.
The ad copy reads:
How many times has this happened? You’re playing 18 holes with your best buddies, drinking sport-“ades”, water, beer, etc. You’re coming up to the 3rd hole with no rest room in sight. There are no trees or bushes around and you just have to go, what are you going to do?
Actually, this has never happened to me, because I play at golf courses that are littered with trees and bushes. Too many in fact. When was the last time anyone played at a golf course devoid of trees or bushes? Where is this Floridian urologist playing? Death Valley?
The UroClub™ is the discrete, sanitary way for your urgent relief. Created by a Board Certified Urologist, it looks like an ordinary golf club, but contains a reservoir built into the grip to relieve yourself. The UroClub™ is leak proof, easy to clean and no more embarrassing moments.
What embarrassing moments? Are we to believe that golfers all around the world are wetting their pants on the course? And if so, why not just wear an adult diaper. It has to be more discreet than this:
Here’s a few more gems from the website:
This may sound like a joke, but it’s not. I am a Board Certified Urologist, practicing in Florida, a place where Golf is played year round.
Since when do we capitalize the names of sports, Mr. Board Certified Urologist?
A camouflaged portable urinal, designed to be discrete, sanitary and create an air of privacy! It looks like an ordinary golf club and comes equipped with a unique removable golf towel clipped to the shaft that functions as a privacy shield!
Did someone actually write the words “clipped to the shaft” in relation to this product?
Imagine, giving the appearance of taking a practice swing, while both privately and confidentially, you are able to relieve yourself without any embarrassment!
I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t take a practice swing and pee at the same time if I was the only golfer on the course and it was midnight on an overcast night. These two activities, swinging and urinating, do not coincide in any way, even if the world, and not just a thin, golf club, was my toilet.
I fear that thousand years from now, archaeologists will excavate a UroClub, along with a recording of the Macarena and a pair of sweatpants with the word Juicy splayed across the butt and assume that they have stumbled upon a hitherto unknown species of primates.