Ok, I don’t nor­mally pass on inter­net stuff here because that’s not why you came. However, some times I find some­thing that is so hilar­i­ous it must be pointed out so you don’t miss the funny. Case in point, Amazon UK’s reviews of a plain old BIC ball-point pen.
Here is the orig­i­nal link.

Just in case they decide to remove the reviews, here are some of my favorites:

Expensive, but worth it
Whilst this may cost more than a piece of pointy char­coal, I think the extra cost is justified.

Excellent pen! Some issues…
Upon receiv­ing my order, I care­fully opened the box and dug through the pack­ing peanuts in order to get to the pen con­tained therein. ‘Beautiful!’, I thought, and promptly opened up my mole­sk­ine note­book to jot down to myself some notes. My pre­vi­ous pen had ran out of ink four weeks prior and I didn’t want to splurge on expen­sive ship­ping, which meant I had a lot of notes to catch up on writing.

But, when that qual­ity car­bide ball touched the sur­face of the paper, it was not ink that came out. From a dis­tance I heard the screams of men and the cack­ling of innu­mer­able ravens. I stopped, cold and sweat­ing pro­fusely. I looked down at the Bic Crystal black medium ball­point pen which I held in my hand, only to see dark­ness. I dashed it against the wall, recoil­ing in hor­ror. I saw in the cor­ner of my eye my faith­ful note­book, which now lay on the ground. Once unmarred, I saw now the small mark which I had made with the devil’s own pen. It spread across the page like a plague, and look­ing at it I gazed upon true hor­rors. For, what I thought had been ink was in fact a por­tal to a dark, unfor­giv­ing dimen­sion. A por­tal whose maw was now widen­ing to engulf all hope and joy in the world.

‘God, what have I done?’ I exclaimed as I weeped and fell to my knees, ‘What have I done?’

From beyond the Dark Gate I heard these words, words which I can never for­get. A ter­ri­ble, boom­ing voice said to me, ‘Ia! Ia! Cthulhu Fthagn!’

I ran, blindly stum­bling, away from that place and never looked back. My only hope is that none shall fol­low in the path I’ve walked down, too blinded by hubris to real­ize my follies.

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*NOT* USB 2.0 com­pli­ant!!!
Warning: This pen is NOT USB 2.0 com­pli­ant. Therefore data trans­fer speeds will be lim­ited to your writ­ing speed. On the plus side, I believe this model is suit­able for emer­gency tra­cheotomies (as per that episode of M*A*S*H way back when).

A Wonderful Christmas Gift
recieved this pen last Christmas from one of my many lovers. I shall never for­get that for­tu­itu­ous occa­sion when i ten­ta­tively unwrapped the gleam­ing crys­tal tube from it’s satin cocoon. It emerged, beau­ti­ful and unsul­lied like a rare but­ter­fly from it’s long, yet reward­ing pupae state.
My face, stained with tears of joy, was unable to con­vey the true joy that i felt in my heart. The word ‘Bic’ exquis­itely etched onto the side of the pen seemed like an endorse­ment from the Lord in Heaven Himself.
Two days passed and i had not been able to bring myself to write with this per­fect imple­ment of bards. What words could i pos­si­bly attempt to record with this arte­fact? Nothing that came to mind could do jus­tice to this won­der­ous tool’s vir­ginal state. Sweat poured from my brow as i wres­tled with the anguish which tossed and turned in my head like some kind of mad beast. Should i indeed use this pen at all? Maybe i should put it away some­where safe, never to be sul­lied by human hands again? But then, i thought, this pen was MADE, no, CRAFTED to be used. Surely it would be a crime against God not to employ it to it’s intended prac­tise?
Finally i knew, finally i felt peace as i took Biro between my thumb and fore­fin­ger and applied it to the scrap of paper i had pre­pared on the desk. No more afraid, i wrote the words “Semi-skimmed milk and a packet of Monster Munch. Pay Gas Bill”. Exhausted, i col­lapsed back into my chair, spent yet sat­is­fied. The pen itself seemed to thank me as i laid it to rest on top of the microwave.