Calories burned playing 30 minutes of basketball: 350. Calories burned taking a 30-minute yoga class: 160. Calories burned washing dishes for 30 minutes: 70.
How about the number of calories I'd burn licking an ice cream cone for 30 minutes? About 25 (although if you take the calories from the ice cream into account, then you burn, well, negative 175 calories). That being said, can someone please tell me why anyone would possibly need this motorized ice cream cone?
I'm no stranger to novelty candy. When I was in middle school, my friends and I would buy sweets by the grocery bagful and would use them as a local form of currency. The stranger candies would always be valued higher, since they usually came in containers that looked like paintbrushes, cars, milk jugs, or animals, and which could be kept and used to store other things (like our pog collections). Extra intrinsic value was awarded to anything that turned our tongues bright colors.
But this motor cone, although in the same family as these novelty eats, somehow falls short. It doesn't advertise itself as being a novelty, but rather as an energy-saving invention. One supplier boasts, "No more manually rotating the cone! No drips, no mess!" Was rotating the cone all that difficult in the first place? And plus, isn't half of the fun of getting an ice cream cone getting to eat the crunchy ice cream-carrying vessel at the end?
I can see people wanting a motorized ice cream cone. I can even see people purchasing one of them and enjoying it for several summers, and I'm not judging them. But if you're going to buy a motorized ice cream cone, be honest with yourself: buy it because it's a novelty, because it's strange, and because it may be a good conversation starter at a toddler's birthday party, and not because it's going to save you the 25 wrist-twisting and tongue-lapping calories.
I'm not the only one who thinks this cone is a joke. Check out Napoleon Dynamite's Jon Heder test-driving the cone at 15 revolutions per minute.