Many are nerdy. All are silly, in their own way. If you like number 3 the best, however, seek immediate help.
Luxury Workstations [Born Rich]
Many are nerdy. All are silly, in their own way. If you like number 3 the best, however, seek immediate help.
Luxury Workstations [Born Rich]
This is not how quality gadgets turn up. Laptops, DSLR cameras, audio components and the like are pitched; we are either convinced to cover them, or solicit review units ourselves. Sony Vaios and $1,000 Yamaha keyboards don't get dumped in the lobby with a "please review me" note.
No, this stuff is the junk. It's the gear one feels may warrant a blog post, perhaps, but which one never gets around to writing because it's junk. Digital thermometers, $5 Skype handsets, CD polishing trays, USB decorations...
A mysterious curl of cheap black plastic may appear one day at the base of the pile, having fallen from something within it during the night. Loaded with the cheapest, nastiest double-AAs on Earth, a toy that's been in the pile a long while may froth at the battery compartment with a curious rusty bloom. When all is quiet, a murmur of subsidence inside the pile may result in a single, unnerving beep from deep within. It decays but it grows—therefore, it must be alive.
Anyway, one day I'll get rid of all this crap in a competition, or something. Until then, I need somewhere to store it, and I would like to be able to store it in a set of Magnetique Shelves, created by Andrew Liszewski, which Oh Gizmo! reports will free us from the organizational conformity imposed on us by IKEA. I don't fancy paying $1,230-$2,150 for them, however, so some old cardboard boxes will probably have to suffice.
Hey, anyone want a broken promotional wristwatch sporting the logo of a CES attendee from Shenzhen that you've never heard of?
Product Page [Magnetique via Oh Gizmo!]
There comes a moment in every boy's life of sexual awakening, a moment when hormonal tides surge, when girls cease to be perceived as slimy, purple-faced goblins and instead become slyphs of terrible allure. When this happens, young men tend to turn to their fathers for advice, and I will never forget my father's sage words when I asked him how to go about the seduction of those soft and sweet-smelling creatures, the fairer sex which had reacted to my overtures at every turn with pantomimed vomiting noises. "Son..." my father said, driving me to the graveyard and handing me a shovel. "You look the way you look, and there's just nothing to be done about that. Just you remember: dead girls don't say no."
It's advice that has served me well, so I'm intrigued by these designer coffin couches... the perfect love seat for post-mortem seductions. According to the guys at CoffinCouches.com, they have managed to secure a number of unused 18 gauge steel coffins from South Californian funeral homes and convert them for use in your living room. Due to pesky South Californian anti-graverobbing laws (and I can attest to the fact that California's just maggoty with them), these coffins are entirely unused, so you don't need to worry that yours wasn't hosed off properly. The price of each couch is $4,500.
This is worthy of applause. It's just so rare that the furniture industry is brave and forward-thinking enough to pander to the interior decorating whims of necrophiliacs and millionaire goths. Bravo, CoffinCouches.com. Bravo!
Coffin Couches [Official Site via Born Riches via Presurfer]