More Like “Nom Nom”

There’s this show that takes place back in the day that you might have seen once or twice.

The whole thing is presented as if it’s a slice-of-life depiction of simpler times, but under its upbeat facade is no shortage of grim underlying realities—foundational shortcomings of early patriarchy, the fracturing of society along class lines demanded by emerging models of capitalism, and (most relevant to today’s discussion) the humiliating subjugation of the powerless in support of the tenuous illusion of a nascent middle class.

The Flintstones is a lot to take in, right?

But we’re not here to talk about the gender dynamics forcing Wilma and Betty to play second fiddle to their breadwinning husbands despite their comparative brilliance and skill with using a stone rolling pin as a bludgeon. After all, this website is a place for lighthearted product write-ups, not a venue for workshopping potential substack newsletter content before striking out as a digital nomad from a rental cabana in Cabo. (Editor’s Note: excuse me?)

No, we’re going to keep it breezy and just talk about that last bit. The horrific subjugation part.

You know when Fred Flintstone is getting his hair trimmed by Wilma while she wields a wild bird or something like a set of clippers? The animal always acts all enthusiastic or whatever, but that shit is dark. It just gets shoved back into the cabinet afterwards.

Or when Barney Rubble uses a Triassic-era wolverine as a home defense weapon. Does that thing ever get to eat something other than bits and pieces of unlucky intruders? Because it sure seems like it just goes back under the bed when he’s done and there’s no evidence that it’s cared for beyond being used like a sawed-off shotgun on Purge night.

We say all of that so that we can say this: today’s deal gives you none of the exploitative connotations and all of the unbridled functionality of a gently anthropomorphized prehistoric pocket weasel that gobbles up unsightly pet hair (“Nom nom!” See, we got there eventually.)

This roller effortlessly captures frustrating pet hair with an absolute minimum of effort.

As they say in our Stone Age reboot of Die Hard that we’ve been writing while on the clock (Editor: hey!)—“Yabba Dabba Doo, Motherucker!”