As two readers point out in separate snapshots, lattes have become an expensive habit.

"Fully loaded" just doesn't seem like a selling point for a portable toilet.

"Period" usually means "that's it"—no caveats or disclaimers. But read on, and you see that the golf is far from free. There might be no initiation, cart, or greens fees, but you have to join the club—for at least $299 plus tax per month.

Both packages guarantee freshness until the same date, and each costs 59 cents. But there's a difference. The Grandma's with the "Fresh New Look!" has a fresh new size: 2½ ounces compared with 2¾ ounces. "With the economy the way it is," a customer-service rep told us, "they downsized it."

The pasta all but vanished when we flipped the box. A cutout revealed plenty of air.

Apparently, these braces will sue the orthodontist who attaches them. (The correct term is "self-ligating.")

You might assume that this card (marked "first class-high priority" on the flip side) announced an important package. Not so fast. The "parcel" was a vacation package—a stay in the Pennsylvania Poconos that the reader could get only after taking a 90-minute tour of the resort.
