Off Limits? Nope.

This is, as advertised:
"Further proof that the sole goal of mankind is now to take selfies absolutely everywhere possible, a vibrator that can video capture an orgasm from its epicentre has been invented.

The nightmarish love child of an endoscopy and a vibrator, the 'Svakom Gaga Camera Vibrator' allows for a new level of explicitness in amateur sex tapes.

Footage taken can be uploaded to PC or smartphone and the device also syncs with FaceTime, offering the unprecedented opportunity to be on the phone with someone's genitals."

I call too much technology. Yes, I suck at selfies so I'm a tad bitter about them, particularly since BratCat can do them and the only image I can successfully capture is my chest scar. But this isn't about that.
I have done the whole, "Examine your vagina with a mirror to better know yourself," routine. For about 3.7 seconds during which I went, Huh. Okay. Different view. Big deal. Unless you are undergoing some sort of physical diagnostic process, there is just no need for this product. And they already have a gigantic Mr Microphone wand thingy for that.
Stop the madness!!

Trash America

I'm sorry, but I simply can not get past the eyeball tattoos. If at any moment you feel the need to get a tattoo on your eyeball "I don’t think there’s any better time to sit down for that little heart-to-heart with yourself. ‘Good morning. This is your wake-up call. It’s from Darwin.’ But that’s just one person’s tiny drama, meaningless except in the bigger picture, which is trying to isolate the exact moment we turned into Trash Nation."
I blame William Shatner. Allow me to explain. Roadkill 911, as I so reverently called it, was the first step on the highway to hell that is UnReality TV. It was the tentative toe dip into others' misery that led us to a Honey Real Bounty Singer Beach Pad Survivor Factor mentality. That only encouraged Hollywouldn't to throw up it's collective lazy hand and admit they have run out of any decent ideas, and began broadcasting anything that would hold still for a clear (enough) shot. Meanwhile, Theater as they say, struggles on, with less recognition outside Manhattan than ever. How about bringing Shatner to Broadway? Turn the tables and maybe induce popular appeal to Theater and force Hollywouldn't to go back to actual work, instead of lionizing never-beens.
But lay the hell off Shatner for not making it to Nimoy's funeral. The guy may have accidentally killed American Society, but he had a charity thing he had planned months prior and I'm fairly certain I heard Nimoy saying, "No, Bill, do the charity gig, I don't care what happens to the shell that used to house my soul. I'm In Search Of the next great adventure..."
Yes, it still hurts.

I was not expecting that

Everybody knows this one:
Type in your pet's name with .com and see what you get. I tried Geo.com and it was a big hub site. Rags.com sells - what a suprise - rags of all kinds. I was not prepared for Brat.com.
Nothing. Nada. I could actually have Brat.com as a domain. I was expecting at least some twisted sex site featuring naughty schoolgirls with giant lollipops inserted in various orifices. Orifi? Whatever. Or maybe a disgruntled mommy site with tips on terrorizing, I mean toilet training tots. Notice that alliteration? Yeah, complete accident.
Or maybe combine those and add a 900 number to call for hot toilet training moms wielding giant lollipops in dominatrix schoolgirl gear... okay maybe not. But there are fetishes for everything anyone can imagine so why not!
Regardless, now I'm all bummed because I could actually own Brat.com but I can't right now. Maybe for his Gotcha Day.