When bad ideas make the best money.
Hey misfits—
We’ve been trained to believe that success comes from brilliance, innovation, and relentless problem-solving.
That’s cute. 🙂
But the market tells a different story: sometimes, the fastest way to millions is selling pure nonsense with a straight face.
Rocks, Blankets, and Fish Songs
Take Gary Dahl’s Pet Rock. A literal stone in a box with straw and an instruction manual. Zero utility, zero R&D, zero innovation—unless you count the genius of boredom. In 1975, Dahl moved over a million units in six months. Why? Because people weren’t buying a rock. They were buying the absurdity, the wink at consumer culture. It turned a five-cent pebble into a $4 cultural phenomenon. Pet Rock was the meme economy before memes had Wi-Fi—proof that humor and timing can outmuscle even the smartest business plans.
Fast forward to the Snuggie. A blanket with sleeves. That’s it. That’s the product. Infomercials so cringe they became comedy, then culture. The result? 30 million units sold, generating hundreds of millions in revenue. The Snuggie didn’t solve a problem; it solved the problem of not having something to laugh at while buying stuff you didn’t need. It became a Halloween costume, a late-night talk show punchline, a pop culture relic that made its creators rich. The Snuggie worked because it leaned into the joke instead of pretending to be serious.
And then there’s Billy the Big Mouth Bass, a plastic singing fish plaque that crooned “Take Me to the River.” Useless, tacky, and somehow irresistible. Billy sold over a million units, popped up in The Sopranos and The Simpsons, and landed licensing deals. The brilliance? It wasn’t a decoration. It was an experience—one that annoyed spouses, delighted kids, and sparked conversations. A gag turned into a mini cultural moment, bankrolled by sheer audacity.
Green Hair, Dog Shades, and Pixels
The Chia Pet is another case study in profitable absurdity. Clay animals sprouting green “hair,” pushed with an earworm jingle: “Ch-ch-ch-chia!” It was comically pointless, yet perfect as a seasonal gift. Since the 1980s, Chia Pets have sold over 25 million units. Not because anyone needed them, but because they embodied low-stakes joy. In a market obsessed with utility, Chia showed that silliness has recurring revenue if you package it right.
And yes, Doggles—sunglasses for dogs. At first, they sounded like satire. Who spends money on canine eyewear? Turns out, plenty of people. The company turned into a multi-million-dollar business. Pet owners bought them for novelty, but veterinarians and military dog handlers bought them for UV protection. Doggles cracked open a niche, then made it mainstream. The line between joke and utility blurred—and profit poured in.
Finally, the Million Dollar Homepage.
In 2005, British student Alex Tew sold one million pixels of online ad space for a dollar each. The idea was absurd, yet the novelty went viral. Brands and individuals rushed to claim their tiny slice of internet real estate. Within months, all the pixels were gone, and Tew walked away with $1 million. The homepage still exists—a frozen time capsule proving that curiosity and novelty alone can create fortunes.
The Economics of Ridiculous
What ties these products together isn’t utility, but timing. They landed when audiences were primed for a laugh, an oddity, a small escape. They prove that markets don’t just reward intelligence—they reward attention.
And sometimes the dumbest idea is the cheapest way to buy it.
The margins were outrageous. Pet Rock’s production costs were practically zero. The Snuggie’s unit cost was so low that its profit margins survived endless parodies and knockoffs. Billy the Bass expanded into licensing deals that far outlived the initial fad. Even Chia Pets thrived thanks to repeat seasonal demand. In every case, the joke wasn’t just funny—
it was cash flow.
Why Dumb Works
Because dumb is safe. Dumb is cheap. Dumb is instantly legible. You don’t need a manual to get the joke. In an attention economy, that’s half the battle. The other half? Owning the absurdity. These brands didn’t hide behind fake gravitas. They doubled down on being dumb—and audiences rewarded the honesty. When a Snuggie ad leaned into its own ridiculousness, people trusted it more than a “serious” pitch. When Doggles admitted it was weird, customers leaned in.
The irony? Dumb ideas often travel further and faster than “smart” ones. They’re easy to share, mock, or parody—and every share adds free reach. In an algorithm-driven culture, dumb is optimized for virality.
Think Dogecoin.Think pixelated NFT rocks sold for hundreds of thousands. Think TikTok trends where useless products go viral because someone filmed them with enough irony. The DNA hasn’t changed.
The meme is the marketing. The joke is the product. And sometimes the joke pays for a mansion.
The parallel isn’t just cultural—it’s economic. In 2021, Dogecoin peaked at a market cap of $85 billion, fueled almost entirely by memes and celebrity tweets. That’s Pet Rock economics with digital steroids.
Attention is currency, and absurdity prints it.
The Bigger Lesson
The market doesn’t punish bad ideas.
It rewards audacity, humor, and timing. Brilliance is optional. In a marketplace choking on self-importance, sometimes the dumbest product in the room is the only one that feels honest.
So the next time you dismiss an idea as too stupid to work, remember: someone once sold us rocks, and we loved it.
Until next time, stay irreverent.
Alex
At Kredo Marketing we turn even the strangest ideas into strategies that work. Because sometimes the “impossible” is just waiting for the right story.
