Results tagged “essential gear” from Overlooked

So, you want to kill every last MoFo in the room? Well, I am here to show you the quickest and easiest way to do it. By giving you this information, I am also giving you top secret Philippine weaponry data, which you must guard carefully--lest the Philippine government discover that we, and everyone else on The Internet, know their secrets. The weapon that I am about to describe to you is superior to all other weapons in terms of killability, concealability, and stealth; it is the Unbreakable Umbrella.

The Unbreakable Umbrella

(Or as I may--affectionately--refer to it: The MoFo Slayer)

This water resistant killing device is worth every bit of the $179.95 you will pay for it. It will allow you to whack your enemy into a coma, and shield you while you're doing the whacking. Not to mention it will shield you on your way to the (soon to be) crime scene.

Do you fear that The MoFo Slayer is only useable during the rainy season? Well put that fear aside. I had similar doubts, and so devised a list of umbrella uses that span the seasons. Here is a sampler: In Autumn, Spring, and Summer, it is easy to shield oneself without suspicion; one can use the umbrella for rain, falling leaves, flowers, sunshine, and, in recent times, meatballs. For our whitest season, the Unbreakable weapon transforms into a snowbrella. Not plausible, you say? In the following video we demonstrate how to take care of anyone who questions the validity of this useage:

My Prediction: It's you, in the coat check room, with the umbrella stick.

I have recently come across a few "über-cool" phones that can only be described as the unfortunate looking love-children of a telegraph and--depending upon the physiognomy--a meat product, a handgun, or something resembling Pokémon. I was lucky to have found these phones while browsing around the web world. I say lucky because, after becoming more acquainted with their awesomeness, I can now predict the next biggest fads brought on by a Jason Reitman movie.

My predictions go as follows:

1. Cell Phone Headsets

This is the perfect cell phone appendage for people who want to slowly acclimate to the present state in which we all live. It has the portability of a cell phone, but yet it is fully equipped with all the inconveniences of both cords and stupidly large receivers. Zack Morris, eat your heart out.

2. The Gun Cell Phone

Who wouldn't want a realistic-looking gun shaped cell phone? People who want to avoid penitentiary shower hour, that's who.

3. The Toilet Phone Caddy

With this item I may be straying a bit from the original topic, because it is not exactly a phone. However, if your phone is not yet house-broken--and you wish to avoid accidents when you go into the other room to check your email--then this might be the best thing that ever happened to you.

4. The Wearable Phone

I am not quite sure what the point of this invention is supposed to be. Aside from eliminating that burdensome 5 ounces of phone weight, it doesn't do anything useful. You still have to bring your hand to your ear--as with a normal phone--but now you look like a dufus, and will henceforth be spending your afternoons getting swirlies in the life-sized version of item #3.

5. The Turkey Dinner Phone

If the hamburger phone is the equivalent of a Big Mac, then I guess this is the equivalent of a--more eloquent--super-sized meal?

6. The Invisible Phone

I, for one, love losing my cell phone. That is why I was enthused to come across this transparent cell phone model. If you're anything like me, right now you are marveling at the fact you did not think of this yourself, and wondering exactly where you can get the one thing that will fulfill your inherent need to make life more difficult: the transparent cell phone.

And in the spirit of saving the best (and creepiest) for last....

7. The Phone Implant

This is a phone concept that--according to the article where I came across it--has been regarded, by university scientists, as the next step in phone technology. I seriously hope this remains a theory...forever.

I wonder if Jason Reitman has stock in Spencer's Gifts? Or more importantly, if he can do for these phones what he did for the illustrious transmitting meat featured in Juno?

I just wanted to let everyone know that the next time you are driving down the highway and some jerk cuts you off, he may not be talking on the phone. No, now we have a completely new problem. Apparently, when the no cell phone rules for the road came out, some inventors had to go out and create something else to distract the men driving. Thank goodness this product is not made for women--I can now legitimately say we are better drivers.

Want to know what the product is? The Roadbag. Don’t know what it is? Well here is a hint; it is a small little bag that can be used to store liquids. It uses special chemicals to solidify the liquids into an odorless gel form so that it can be stored safely and out of sight.

Still don’t get it? Well, the original product was designed for fighter pilots so there would be no incidents in-flight when going after the enemy.

Ok, I’ll just tell you.

It is a bag for men to use the bathroom in while in the car. YES, THIS ACTUALLY EXISTS. Apparently using the rest stop bathrooms wasn’t good enough--now guys can drive continuously and just pee in a bag. So if you think some big shot businessperson is cutting you off because he is on the phone, think again. Instead, that guy is just using the “restroom”.

Here's one: at the end of this past September, I had a crystal clear vision of yet another hipster fashion trend to come: saddle shoes. However, because I am lazy (or is it just typical hipster indifference?), my prediction post went unwritten, and according to Hard Liquor, Soft Holes, it seems I have been scooped. Curses!

(Just so you know, I was hep to this groove, man--and I had a timestamp to prove it. Now I'm the last one to leave the party, just like Pauly Shore.)

However, despite my tardiness, I still maintain that over the coming months, saddle shoes will become even more prominent in hipster populations. First and foremost, there is the huge (huge!!) nostalgia factor--everything old is new again (see: USB mixtapes, Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Reebok high tops). For those of us who weren't lucky enough to have them the first time around, owning saddle shoes as an adult can be perceived as ironic (though is that in the standard way or the Alanis Morrissette way? I can never tell): this particular footwear epitomizes youth culture--not only in the classic 1950s, rosy-cheeked, sock hop sort of way, but also in the more accessible "the identical twins in my fifth grade class each had a pair of these but I never did and I was SO. JEALOUS." way that is so very integral to hipsterdom today.

On a more practical level, however, saddle shoes are totally the perfect accessory to your (sub)urban lifestyle. Not only does their supple and durable leather mean that you're completely protected from even the most perilous of PBR spills, but you're also ready to take it to the bowling alley at any given moment (even if it's only the Wii version). And finally, what better way to concretize that old-tymey spirit than with a shoe that is so comfortable, you'll be able to trudge through waist-deep snow, uphill both ways--at the peril of being consumed by brontosauri and T. rexes--just to get to school and earn that education!

So, all you hipsters, because I'm late on this one, the next time I go tromping about the Burg, I expect that you'll all be decked out in your finest saddle shoes and I'll do some recruiting for my new gang. But you'd better get your applications in early because word on the street is we're getting Members Only jackets next year. You heard it here first.

Just when you were getting used to guys using loofahs, here comes pantyhose for men.

If you are like many people, you will first and foremost want to know why. Some people will tell you it's a circulation issue--doctors sometimes recommend that men wear support hose under pants to improve their leg health, especially professional drivers whose legs may not get to move enough during the day. But that's hardly a reason to wear pantyhose with shorts, or as seen at e-MANcipate, in bright colors and obnoxious patterns. Especially if you're a truck driver. I mean, look at this guy--in the middle of New York City, tolerance capital of the world, and even he's mean-mugging to avoid confrontation.

At least the Bro is supposed to be worn under the clothes, and if it controls unsightly man boobs, well, I'd vote for that over mantyhose anyday. Because men in pantyhose? I don't want to see that.

I'm not sure what the kids are up to these days, what with their fancy portable video game consoles and expensive cell phones, but back in my time, we had a calling. And that calling was to be the sole purveyor of addictive confectionary treats that were only available for a few months out of the year.

For one glorious month during first grade, I joined the ranks of those prized citizens known only as the Girl Scouts. It was a whirlwind of badges and after-school meetings and sit-upons. As previously mentioned, I was a shy child (that's right, Steve, I'm calling you out again!), and it was nice to be a part of a social group. However, as was often the case with much of my hypoglycemic childhood, things were about to take a dark turn.

It all started with the stupid dance badge. I was timid and didn't want to dance, and yet I still wanted the badge. Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was, for I never received said badge, a fact which my injured six-year-old self has never forgotten. But this was not incentive enough to quit (though nor was it incentive enough to try harder in manner of countless movies centered around underprivileged youth for whom dance is their only outlet).

No, that incentive came perhaps a week later, following that year's cookie sales. Aimee, one of my fellow Girl Scouts, one of the sisters, made fun of me for only having sold cookies to my family. I'm pretty sure it was that very day that I packed it up and told my mother I didn't want to go back. As a practical and un-soccer-mom-like mother, she had no objections and asked few questions (the cookies were already ordered anyway: her sweet tooth was guaranteed sustenance for at least the next few months).

It is for these very traumatic reasons that I prevent the newest Next Big Thing in hipster fashions: The Girl Scout Sash. I'm sure there are scads and scads of twentysomethings who are still trying to get over their scouting days, and what better way to do that by embracing the very thing that caused you pain in the first place? Furthermore, the Girl Scout Sash is fully customizable: it can be decorated with the normal badges (I can finally have that dancing badge after all!) or with all manner of ironic buttons.

Remember, hipsters: if you can't beat 'em, join 'em!

Are you a frazzled parent struggling to properly clean your house? Have your children gotten too comfortable with their pampered existence? Why should they have it so good, anyway? Look at them, sitting there, watching reality television and gobbling down snacks while you ruin your knees vacuuming up crumbs and cat hair.

Why, when you were a kid, you had to walk 10 miles to school - in the snow, uphill both ways, and barefoot. Those ungrateful little bastards should be thankful they even have these microfiber cleaning slippers attached to their fat, privileged little feet. As long as they're walking that well-worn path to the refrigerator, they might as well pick up a few dust bunnies along the way.

Break the cycle. In the end, they'll thank you for all that character they've developed.

Much like our dear hunk JRR Tolkien, I too have a crippling tea addiction. Though we're supplied with plenty of tea at work, I always keep a box of Twining's Irish Breakfast in my desk because office stock depletes quickly and I don't trust that there will always be an acceptable option. The last time we ran out of soy milk, my preferred flavoring accent, I started hyperventilating and crawled up into one of the heating ducts until the office manager shooed me out with a broom.

The other day, to enable both my tea addiction and my affinity for all things British, I was looking for the classic Brown Betty English teapot. Steeping tea in a mug just seems so very plebian, and I love nothing if not a great deal of pretension. I typed in my search on the ShopWiki main page, and imagine my complete surprise to find the product at right (minus my hackneyed censoring job) come up in my results: Betty Beauty Dye (possibly NSFW). Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that product is a dye specifically designed for maintaining your nether regions.

What started as a testament to the horrible power of addiction, thanks to the power of serendipity, turned out as one of the most magical searches I've ever done. I have this friend, let's call her Myrtle, but I can't count the number of times in a normal day I've - I mean she! SHE!! - wondered, "Am I as fancy as I could be today?" Poor Myrtle, something was just always missing; there was a tangible ennui that all the Jordache jeans and body glitter in the world couldn't cure.

Thankfully for Myrtle, my addiction led me to this fateful search. If it weren't for the fact that I mainline tea, I wouldn't know that Betty Beauty Dye not only exists, but also comes in a variety of colors. Including HOT PINK. My dear friend now has a skip in her step, a twinkle in her eye, and a betty to suit her every whim.

So the next time you're pouring yourself a piping hot cup of Earl Grey, ask yourself this: are you as fancy as you could be today? Is something missing for you too?

Dedicated to Myrtle, who dared to dream.

What most makes a house a home? Is it sitting around a roaring fireplace with your loved ones, watching the light flicker over their smiling faces? Is it your loyal golden retriever bringing you your slippers as you recline into your easy chair? Is it seeing the glee in your children's eyes as you carve the family turkey at Thanksgiving?

Surely you jest!

Everyone knows homes are officially made with novelty toilet seats. Read on to find our top picks that will give your home that certain je ne sais quoi.

Some days I just can't believe what a square company I work for. My one and only request when we moved into our new building was to have a "Live Nudes" sign installed by our showers, and that the sign be rigged to go on when the water is turned on.

We have been in the new office since January. Today is April 29, and there is still no mention of any nudes, live or otherwise. Apparently there's some big to-do where certain people think a sign like that constitutes harassment and bla bla and some junk. I'm not naming any names, but her name starts with "R" and rhymes with "Benet" (as in JonBenet Ramsey). People like that need to suck it up and get over it. Ain't nothing classier than a sign like that, especially when it's set to blink.

About the time when girls were bringing Caboodles makeup cases to sleepovers and wearing slap-wrap bracelets, best friends everywhere finally found the perfect avenue with which to express their devotion: the Best Friends Necklace.

Two half-heart pendants that when put together form a single heart, the best friend necklace was the elementary school equivalent of a wedding ring. It bonded you and your best pal for the entirety of that school year (at least!) and it let others know to back off - you were taken. A shy and withdrawn child ever since Steve B. pulled up my skirt in kindergarten while I was handing out snacks to the other students (you hear that, Steve? I'm publicly outing you!!), I in particular felt the sting of not having a best friend with whom to share the necklace, which in my mind was the ultimate declaration of friendship.

Based on my experience, which I'm sure was one shared by many, I would like to state here today my theory for the Next Big Thing in fashion: the resurrection of the Best Friends Necklace. Given the hipster tendency towards irony and the fact that true hipsters are traditionally characterized by a sense of alienation from society, I can see few other more perfect means for them to display not only the omnipresent love of nostalgia, but also, if you were to wear both halves of the necklace at once, the sentiment of being perfectly outside society!

Just remember, when they start selling them at Urban Outfitters, you heard it here first.

All his life, Seamus had been plagued by his terrible flatulence. Never able to truly enjoy his favorite meal of corned beef and cabbage, his friends mocked him with cruel costumes and guilt-inducing gags. Always picked last in gym class and skipped over in Spin the Bottle, he cried himself to sleep each night. Some days the tears even came at school as he was fetching books from his locker, and that was the worst. When would this torment end? Why did his mother have to be a lentil-crazed vegan, why?

One day, however, he received an anonymous e-mail alerting him to remarkable new products designed to alleviate the humiliation of his delicate condition. Carbon filters worn inside the underpants to absorb offensive odors - finally! Combined with a simple regimen of CharcoCaps and some choice words by Benjamin Franklin, Seamus was at last equipped with the knowledge he needed to start go out and living life, free from the shackles of his flatulent past!

And there was an extra-special surprise as well. That anonymous e-mail? Turned out to be not so anonymous after all. It actually came from his classmate Lisa, who saw past his gas and into his heart.

Here's to a sweet-smelling future!

Since we actually *buy* some of the stuff ShopWiki indexes, we figured we'd point out a genuinely useful product, not that an alpaca doesn't have its uses.

I bought the Eagle Creek Pack-It Folder 18 based on the recommendation of a friend who also works at ShopWiki. We were at a wedding in D.C., and I watched him pull this thing out of his backpack. Inside was a two-piece suit, a few dress shirts, ties, and other more casual clothes. He was like some sort of magician. Meanwhile, there's my burdened self, having driven down from New York with some big-ass piece of luggage or other.

The folder comes with a big plastic card that you fold your suit/shirts/etc. around. Instructions for folding are printed on the card; you remove the card after each item is folded. After everything is folded up, you Velcro the folder shut, and toss it in a large backpack / carry on suitcase. Upon arrival, you might need to press your suit, but you'd probably want to do that if you packed with a standard garment bag.

Eagle creek makes these in a few different sizes, depending on how much stuff you need to lug. Since I've bought mine, I haven't had to pack a garment bag once.

Who doesn't hate when their umbrella gets flipped inside out? Thankfully, the good folks at Windbrella devised a solution to this problem. The magic is the vented slots between the upper and lower canopy. This allows the wind to effortlessly pass through your umbrella while it wreaks havoc on those lesser models.

Check out this picture. Notice that one guy has a Windbrella (you can tell by the divide between the upper & lower canopy) and one guy doesn't? Guess which one showed up for work drier.

Sure, it's a bit more expensive than the $5 umbrellas for sale on every street-corner, but trust me this is well worth it. I own one and must say its an essential accessory for any rainy day. It's not the most exciting gift you can give this holiday season, but it's certainly one of the most practical.

One more time, just because I can.