The Modern Materialist : test drive

Test Drive: An Intimate Portrait Experience

Steph Auteri — Mon, 04 May 2009 15:02:00 GMT

Nothing makes me feel unsexier than trying on sexy panties.

Yet there I was, in the try-on room at my local Victoria's Secret, trying to shove my considerable bulk into saucy boyshorts, lacy panties, and other fine-fabriced instruments of torture. And man was I frustrated. Whoever had tols me that boyshorts were flattering did not have thunder thighs.

In three days' time, I was scheduled to pose for an Intimate Portrait by artist Dorian Vallejo. I wasn't sure that — when it came down to it — I would be able to show my poo-cha-cha to a complete stranger, so here I was. My collection of cotton granny panties obviously wasn't gonna cut it.

...

My husband was eager and excited and perpetually turnd on by the thought of me posing nude. He held my hand more. He propositioned me more (if such a thing is possible). He stared at me lasciviously whether out in public or in the seclusion of our own home. "I don't know what it is," he whispered huskily, "but I am so turned on!"

When the day came, I showed up at Vallejo's home toting a duffel bag filled with shawls, pashminas, beach cover-ups, and even my favorite fuzzy pair of Cookie Monster pajama pants. Tossed over my shoulder was the blanket that someone had crocheted for me the year before. I was also wearing my best stomach-flattening skirt, and one of my pretties Gap bras. I was (over)prepared.

Vallejo spent about an hour giving me the lowdown. He sat me down in a room filled wall-to-wall with art books and showed me folders filled with sketches and finished pictures. He explained the full process to me and then showed me his studio. We started out slow.

First, Vallejo did some quick sketches, referred to as "gestures." During this part of the process, the subject tries out a variety of poses for 2-3 minutes at a time. I cyced through my various outfits, eventually becoming more and more unclothed. It was impossible to feel uncomfortable in front of Vallejo, despite the fact that my nips were hanging out. He had a boyish enthusiasm for the work he was doing, and I never felt as if I was being judged. Eventually, I felt safe enough to bare the vajayjay.

After picking our favorite pose, we spent the rest of the day working on the final painting. I lay in position for 20 minutes at a time, with 5-minute breaks in between. When I felt cold, I edged myself closer to a nearby space heater. When the arm beneath my head started aching, I attempted to will myself to sleep, or concentrate on the background music, or count really, really slowly, so that I could make it to the next beeper of the timer. Absolutely none of my discomfort stemmed from the fact that I was exposed.

[$1,000+, Dorian's Portraits]

When the day was done, I couldn't believe that the woman in the painting was me.

Other reactions:

"I forgot how fantastic your boobs were!" [an old college friend]

"Were you naked when he drew this!?" [no mom, he used his imagination. ::eye roll::]

"Let's have sexy time!" [my husband]

If you need a reminder that your boobs are, in fact, fantastic, or are searching for the perfect sexy gift for your significant other, I can't recomment Vallejo's work enough.

If you're interested in a more in depth essay on my experience, head on over here.

Test Drive: Spot On Energy Patches

Steph Auteri — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 16:19:00 GMT

As I write this post, I have a standing fan aimed right at me, merely so that I can feel cool enough to continue enjoying my morning coffee(s).

I tell you this to impress upon you just how important my daily coffee intake is to me.

So it was a big deal when I decided to forego coffee for a week so that I could test out Spot On Energy, an energy patch designed as an alternative to coffee, energy drinks, and other artificial sources of caffeine.

According to the literature that came with my patches, Spot On Energy is supposed to be healthier because its contents bypass the stomach, "where many people experience discomfort with traditional energy products." And instead of giving you a quick rush of energy, along with a subsequent crash, the patches are supposed to give you five hours of increased, sustained energy, plus improved mental focus.

Because you're probably wondering what's in these things:

20 mg caffeine
5 mg taurine
5 mg glucuronolactone
4 mg green tea extract
2 mg vitamin B3
2 mg vitamin B5
800 mcg vitamin B6
800 mcg vitamin B12

Seems harmless enough, right? No worse than the other shit I ingest on a daily basis.

I began my coffee ban on a Wednesday. This made me tired and sad.

On Thursday, I was even sadder.

By Friday, I was agitated. I mean, I don't necessarily drink coffee because of its energy-related benefits. I drink it because I find it comforting...the warmth...the smell, the heat going down my throat and spreading throughout my body. I daydreamed about my coffee. I stared longingly at my Mr. Coffee coffee pot. I sniffed by Bavarian chocolate coffee grinds and pretended it was next week.

Finally, I (inevitably) decided that there was no way in hell I could go an entire week without coffee. I decided to prematurely end my fast and get this energy patch thing out of the way.

I placed a patch on each bicep, and sat down to my computer to Get Shit Done.

I immediately started hallucinating various ailments, allegedly caused by the patch.

God, I'm getting a headache, I thought to myself, kneading my forehead with two fingers. I wonder if that's the energy patch.

Several minutes pass.

My thumbs are aching, I suddenly realize. I wince as I rotate and stretch my thumbs. I wonder if that's the energy patch. (Never mind that I have an enduring paranoia about carpal tunnel syndrome.)

I'm bleeding out of my eyeballs, I observe. That has to be the energy patch!

Okay. Just kidding. No eyeball-bleeding occurred.

But by the time noon rolled around, I had had it. My thumb pain was freaking me out, I was having erotic fantasies involving my coffee pot, and all I really wanted to do was curl up on my bed with the cats. No infusion of energy or increase of focus in sight.

I ripped off the patches (ouch! worse than bandaids!) and brewed up an extra-large pot of coffee, drinking three cups in quick succession.

Okay. So perhaps my coffee addiction had something to do with Spot On Energy's less-than-stellar performance. Or maybe the fact that I've been diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome makes my lack of energy more difficult to manage.

Or maybe it's the fact that I never see the sunlight, and most probably have some sort of vitamin deficiency by this point.

If you're interested in trying the patch out yourself, they're available on the site:

[$16.95-$62.95, Spot On Energy]

Or, if you'd like my leftovers, be the first one to comment and I'll send some your way.

Test Drive: Peek Pronto Not Pronto Enough

Steph Auteri — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 16:09:00 GMT

[$79.95 + $19.95/month, Peek]

The concept itself was so promising...a standalone e-mail device, much cheaper than — and without all the bells and whistles of — smartphones like the iPhone and the Blackberry. That was something I could get behind.

After all, I couldn't bring myself to spend the money on the iPhone, despite the fact that my eyes glazed over with lust every time my friend Nicole pulled her's out. And I didn't think that I really needed constant access to the web (despite my propensity toward obsessive-compulsively checking both my Google Reader and Twitter feeds for updates).

So I was fully ready to embrace the Peek, ignoring everyone's judgments over its obsolescence in a world of smartphones.

When my Peek Pronto arrived in the mail, I just about flipped my shit with excitement. Finally...I would be able to leave my condo without missing an e-mail beat. (Note: I don't actually leave my condo. Ever.)

And in powering up my Peek, my excitement only grew. Getting started was as simple as inputting my e-mail address. Once my Peek and my e-mail account had synced up, the e-mails started rolling in. And with each new e-mail, the tiny envelope in the upper-left-hand corner of the device flashed blue, and the Peek chirped. For a (brief) time, this satisfied me.

Strike One:

The first twinge of doubt occurred when I left my Peek turned on overnight. When I awoke the next morning, eager to check my new e-mails without actually leaving my bed (my laziness knows no bounds), I found that the device had gone dead, despite the fact that I had charged it for a bit the day before. Isn't the battery power supopsed to be better? Instant gratification FAIL. I plugged it into the wall for the rest of the day.

Strike Two:

Later that night, I had to leave the condo (horrors) to drive to an exercise class a half hour away. I decided that this was the perfect opportunity to try out e-mail-on-the-go and, by that point, the device was fully charged. So I powered it up...and waited.

In the end, it took at least a half hour for my Peek to catch up on my e-mails. Every time it beeped for the next 30 minutes, it was an e-mail I had already received, read, and deleted hours before. I felt as if I had stumbled into Back to the Future, and I was not impressed. Lesson learned: NEVER turn off your Peek, even if you are charging it. (This also brings up another annoyance: I wish it knew which e-mails I had already read and deleted; I wish there was a greater interactivity between it and my e-mail account. It's also so frustrating to read an e-mail and be unable to click on the link therein!)

Strike Three:

I believe that the point of the Peek (and all smartphones too, for that matter) is to make it possible for you to be more mobile. Am I the only one who found herself becoming more immobile? Example:

Doo-be-doo. I just heard my computer beep in the other room. That means that I have a new e-mail! Yay new e-mail! Even though I prefer reading e-mails on a big screen, I will instead check my e-mail on my Peek, because god forbid I leave the bed. I mean, my slippers are just too far away.

And in fact, this is the problem I see with all e-mail devices and smartphones. It drives me crazy when my man and I are watching TV and suddenly he'll feel compelled to check his e-mail on his BlackBerry, with its TINY screen, despite the fact that his computer is two flippin' feet away. I feel as if these devices make everyone a heckuva lot lazier, a heckuva lot more OCD, and way too plugged in.

...

Um.

Okay. Now that my rant is over...can someone please give me a free iPhone?

Some features of the Peek Pronto:

e-mail delivery
unlimited texting support
search function
5 e-mail accounts supported
can view .pdfs, .docs, and pictures

Test Drive: Ginch Gonch

Laureen Mahler — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 18:55:00 GMT

Okay, first things first: what the hell is a Ginch Gonch? According to the ever-handy Urban Dictionary, Ginch = old school men's briefs, and Gonch = well, let's just say it means nasty old tighty-whities. So why in the world would I want to test drive nasty men's tighty-whities? As you can see from the photo above, Ginch Gonch is a bit of a misnomer (intentional, I'm sure). These panties combine all the nostalgia of little boy Underoos with the fanciness of Victoria's Secret.

Read on for the extremely intimate test drive:

[$24 - $28, Ginch Gonch]

Ginch Gonch underwear for women come in more styles than you can count, all of them colorful, fun, and yes, equipped with penis hole. Why do women need a penis hole? Two reasons: 1) Ginch Gonch is about the whole Underoo package, shaped for women, and 2) be creative.

First, the packaging: Ginch Gonch knows how to make you feel fancy when you open up your shipment of undies. It was like Christmas in March when mine arrived, complete with packaging strewn all around the house, me dancing around in my new panties, and my cat chewing on one of the tags. Apparently she likes Ginch Gonch, too.

The undies themselves do not disappoint. They fit like a charm (and trust me, if these puppies weren't reshaped for female curves, I'd be one uncomfortable test driver), and they feel fantastic. We're talking much higher quality undies than I normally find around my nether regions. Okay, I admit that the little boy-inspired design was a bit weird at first. I mean, I like the whole nostalgia thing, but can I really be nostalgic for boyhood? Isn't that somewhat dirty? But putting Ginch Ginch on is sort of like transforming into the superhero of Underoo fame. It suddenly all makes sense. Really, really comfy sense. (Side note: why exactly did little boys get to have all the undergarment fun?)

The folks at Ginch Gonch also sent a pair of long underwear (available in a multitude of designs). With these, I set out to answer the ultimate test drive question: would Ginch Gonch make me look sexier doing what I do best? (To clarify, what I do best is sit on my ass at the computer.) Answer:

[$42, Ginch Gonch]

Absolutely! Check me out up there. I could wear these out in public and turn heads. Though they might be turning for the wrong reasons...

My conclusion: I've completely fallen under the charms of Ginch Gonch. Yes, they're pricey, but they're also the most fun you'll have (by yourself) in underwear. And guys, they also make men's undies, meaning that the Ginch Gonch store has something for just about everyone.

Test Drive: Bacon Smackdown + Contest

Steph Auteri — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 18:33:00 GMT

People. You may not have noticed but, here at MM, we really love bacon (what's not to love!?). Which leads us to seek out the oddest bacon products ever.

Don't let the title of this post mislead you. I am not test driving five different types of maple bacon. Though I should. Just for fun. I mean, I'm eating maple bacon right now just to get in the spirit of things.

Rather, I'm testing out some of the bizarre bacon products we've posted about in the past, and then some. Check it:

[$3.99, J&D's]

While I typically only use 100% pure petroleum jelly or Burt's Beeswax on my mutilated lips — as I find most lip glosses and lip balms dry out the lips due to their alcohol content — I was thrilled to receice this bacon lip balm unsolicited. Sometimes, while I'm sitting here blogging, I slather it on just so that I can pretend I'm eating bacon.

Pros: Have the scintillating scent of bacon hovering just underneath your nose for as long as it lasts.

Cons: Does not actually moisturize lips for the long-term. And is not actually bacon.

[$5.99, J&D's]

Speaking of J&D's, I got them to send me a jar of their Baconnaise, a bacon-flavored spread with much the same consistency as mayonnaise. Opening up a jar of Baconnaise is like leaning over a vat of ranch dressing, with bacon bits stirred in. And then you realize it's Baconnaise, and your stomach clenches, and you almost don't want to eat bacon ever again. Almost. And then you just go for it.

Pros: It does, indeed, taste distinctly of bacon.

Cons: Having bacon in mayo form still makes me want to hurl.

[$15.99, J&D's]

Alex has already done a taste test of bacon salt in the past, but I thought I should remind you of its existence, just to be completely thorough.I don't have much to add to Alex's assessment, but:

Pros: Healthy. salt. Srsly. Gluten free and low sodium, and can salt things up to my heart's content, all with the scrumptious taste of bacon.

Cons: I can't think of a one, unless you count the fact that Peppered has a bit too much of a kick for my taste. You should totally read Alex's post for a more detailed assessment.

[$7.50, Vosges]

In addition to this chocolate bar, the kind people over at Vosges also sent me this flying chocolate pig. Mo's Bacon Bar is made with applewood smoked bacon, Alder wood smoked salt, and deep milk chocolate. I assume it was created with the belief that things as awesome as bacon and chocolate should be combined.

Pros: Things this awesome were combined.

Cons: I don't know if it's because I don't eat a lot of chocolate, but...aside from finding the milk chocolate too rich, there was just something about the flavor combination that didn't...feel right. I mean, you're supposed to balance your sweet with your salty, but you're not necessarily supposed to mix them together. Nibbling on this bacon chocolate bar, I found myself overwhelmed by both the richness of the chocolate and the saltiness of the actual bits of bacon.

[$11.95 or $119.95 for a case of 12 cans, MREdepot]

Yes. I risked life and limb and food poisoning to test out bacon in a can. For you. Each can contains 9 ounces of fully cooked and drained bacon, and has an alleged shelf life of at least 10 years. Here is what it looks like when you open the can:

Pros: I don't know about you, but whenever I try to fry bacon, I invariably under- or over-cook it. It's nice to be able to just pop open a can and either eat it cold (yes, ew, I know) or just quickly heat it up in the microwave.

Cons: It definitely tasted like bacon, and I didn't die or anything but...well, maybe I'm just spoiled by all that maple bacon I buy, but I just wasn't...loving the bacon. That and, beyond all rational thought, I kept fearing that I was going to keel over and die. Upon unrolling the bacon, and getting its slick, sticky fat all over my fingers, I felt more keenly than at any other time that I was going to die young because of my unhealthy eating habits. It almost made me swear off bacon for good. But not quite.

And there you have it folks. Do with this information what you will. And if you're feeling particularly brave, leave a comment about the weirdest bacon product you've ever tried, or the oddest but most ingenius bacon recipe you've ever thrown together, and have the chance to win one of these five cans of bacon sitting next to my desk. Good luck and godspeed.

Happy Hour Test Drive: Canadian Club Whisky 30 Year Reserve

Shaun Seneviratne — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 22:01:00 GMT

Whiskey was actually the first alcoholic beverage I ever had. When I was a teenager, my dad left his Johnny Walker exposed in the kitchen and I poured some into my orange juice. It was gross and I didn't drink whiskey again until college. Now, at the ripe meh-age of 23, my palette has developed and I've become a little bit of a whiskey snob. I've traded in the JD and SoCo for Maker'sMark and Knob Creek. When I go out to restuarants, I'll order a single malt scotch, provided that I have money and it is under $14 (it's tough to be a connoisseur on a budget).

Needless to say, I was pretty psyched about test driving a bottle of Canadian Club's 30 Year Reserve Whisky (that's right, the cannucks leave off the 'e'). . .

This bottle of 30 Year Reserve Whisky, which retails for $200, was released to celebrate 150 years of Canadian Club getting people around the globe mighty "thundered" (Sri Lankan slang for drunk). Only 3,000 were made, so this shiz is pretty rare. And what better occasian to drink this than my friend's going away party?

Eating a delicious blondie as my hetero life partner Waqas and I display the goods (meaning the whisky, of course).

Before taking part in the tasting though, I consulted the manual that came with the whisky. That's right, fancy whisky comes with instructions. As I was nerding it up, people were getting tired of me reading them the directions aloud and wanted to start drinking already. Vultures.The gist of the instructions were to look for the "luscious oak character enhanced by delicate hints of dried fruit and subtle spice." Yeah, whatever man--I do what I want!

Just studying for the big taste test.

Carefully pouring the whisky. I'd feel like a real putz if I spilled $200 whisky on the counter. I'd probably lick it up.

After pouring 10 glasses or so we were finally ready to begin the great American taste test!

Cheers!

A Beard's-Eye View of the snifting/tasting.

The verdict? Good. Damn good. This whisky was velvety smooth going down your gullet and the aroma was out of this world. Most of us thought it had a strong butterscotch scent and taste to it. Some other reviews:

Laura: "At first I thought it tasted like butterscotch. I don't think it tastes like butterscotch anymore, but it's still quite good."

Matt: "It goes well with a beer and a blondie!" (note: blondie = desert treat, not a person. -S)

John: "Hmmm. Tis good!"

Soon after the tasting we delved into deliciously decadent behavior (which really means we just danced around to Beach Boys and soul music).

All's well, ends well for the dick meeting! If you can afford it, enjoy! It's definitely the best whisky by our neighbors to the north that I've ever had.

[$200, Canadian Club]

Test Drive: Flying Wish Paper

Steph Auteri — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 20:01:00 GMT

[$15, Flying Wish Paper]

Back in the late fall, I did up a post on Flying Wish Paper that poked a little fun at both the product and the promotional video.

Julia, the fabulous creator of said wish paper, called me out for being an alarmist and a cynic, and challenged me to a test drive. As I was terrified she might key my car over the bad publicity (kidding! just kidding!), I accepted.

Months later, I've finally gotten the chance to make my own wishes come true:

Test Drive: Flying Wish Paper from Steph Auteri on Vimeo.

This is my (very low-tech) video of my Flying Wish Paper experience. Let me add that this was the second video we shot. I had a separate video clip from our first try, in which the gasp I emitted rivaled those of the women in the promotional video. There were also some "holy shits" and "jesus christs." Unfortunately, due to technical issues, I cannot show you this video.

Anyways.

The kit itself is absolutely adorable. You can choose from a number of designs, and then the package you receive contains 50 sheets of Flying Wish Paper, 25 Wish Platforms, and both a box of matches and a set of little pencils embossed with the Wish Paper name. You canalso buy a mini kit for $8, which includes only 15 sheets of paper and 5 platforms.

My wish hasn't come true yet, but only about 16 hours have passed. Either way, I am so bringing this kit out at my next intimate gathering. Wishes for everyone!

p.s. Nothing in my house burst into flames due to my use of the Flying Wish Paper, though my heart was in my throat that very first time.

Related: Burning Down the House

Test Drive: Feeling Just a Tinge of Excitement (Down There)

Steph Auteri — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 17:31:00 GMT

You guys! Check out this razor I just got myself! It's pretty, it's pink, it comes with its own charging dock, and it can bring me to orgasm in five and a half minutes!

No. I know. I don't usually place razor-sharp blades near my clitoris either, but I just couldn't help myself this time around. You see...this razor is actually a (waterproof) vibrator in disguise!

Not only that, but it's also one of the few discreet vibrators out there that also functions as the object it's designed to look like.

After the jump, we explore this further, and I explain why it's okay to place sharp objects near your vajayjay, risk-free.

When I first received my Tinge razor in the mail, it came in a sleek, black box, and was packaged alongsize its charging base, power adapter, and a bottle of scented pleasure gel (a bit strong-smelling for my taste but, then again, I'm pretty attached to the lube I'm already using). I also got a good giggle out of the promotional materials included therein, which expressed the desire that I "never have a dull moment." (aaaaaaaaaahahahahahaha I love it.)

It was a pretty excellent presentation, and I was eager to jump right in and bring myself just a tinge of pleasure (down there). Unfortunately, the razor required charging overnigh, so I plugged in the base, popped on the razor and...um...twiddled my thumbs (actually, I used my other vibrator, just to tide me over).

After my Tinge was fully charged, I powered it up by pressing the up and down arrow buttons simultaneously. I was so startled by the loud, powerful buzzing that I nearly dropped the damn thing, and actually yelped out loud. It sort of reminded me of my very first clit vibe — the Waterdancer, a waterproof version of the Pocket Rocket — which sounded as if I was hiding a by-God lawnmower beneath my sheets.

Once I got over my scare, I got down to business. I was already impressed by the intensity of the vibration, and was looking forward to cycling through the different vibratory rhythms. By pressing the middle Tinge button, I was able to cycle through five different modes: constant (the speed on this one could be changed using the arrow buttons), skip tease (pulsate), rapid tease, escalate (roll low to full power), and roller coaster (roll low to full power then back down to low).

So far so good.

When I was done having my fun (constant was my personal favorite), I powered off the Tinge by pressing both arros buttons simultaneously again, and then placed it back on the charging base.

Now, at this point, you're probably skeptical that such a powerful personal massager could also function as a razor. Well, believe it:

[$125, Tinge]

Scary, huh? No need to worry, though. The Smart Cap covering the razor blade (of which there are two extras included) does not come off accidentally. When I first opened the package, I couldn't even figure out how to get the cap off at all! And as an added safety feature, vibration capabilities are deactivated as long as the Smart Cap is off (I actually tested this, by removing the Smart Cap while in mid-buzz; it immediately stopped vibrating. P.S. The razor was nowhere near my nether regions at this time).

Of course, if you happen to reach for the Tinge after dark and place it down below before turning it on...well, let's just say that I believe your Tinge should be stored — on its cradle — with the Smart Cap on at all times.

In case you were wondering (and I do try to be thorough, dear readers), I used the razor as well, during my morning shower, and while I wouldn't trade it for my Gillette Venus (I am a creature of habit, after all), it's definitely a razor, and does the job that razors typically do.

So there you have it. Wuld you use a vibrator with razorting capabilities?

Happy Hour Test Drive: A Shot in the Dark

Steph Auteri — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 22:06:00 GMT

Last Friday, my husband and I had over two other couples for a Shot in the Dark party.

It was referred to as such because we would be drinking shots and...um...

Well, we couldn't locate any glow-in-the-dark shot glasses, so it wasn't actually in the dark...

Bygones.

Bottom line: We would be taste testing De Kuyper's new line of bar shots (despite the fact that I only drink wine and am usually in bed by 11).

bar shots are bottles of premixed shots, in flavors such as Kamikaze Burst, Red Headed Burst, and Washington Apple Burst. They're a mere 20% alcohol (40 proof). Their bottles are explosions of color.

See?

Still, we didn't want to get ahead of ourselves. We pregamed (ha!) with glasses of wine and some Pizza Hut.

Finally, I brought out the bottles.

We decided to start with the Washington Apple Burst. Mike T. poured shots all around. We picked up our shot glasses (a college-era collection I had long since bequeathed to my little brother, but which I was now borrowing) and looked at each other. Someone counted down, and we drank...

There was a mass lunge for the bowl of Doritos. Josh (above) reached for his open can of beer. "I have never been so happy to drink Coors!" were his exact words, I believe.The rest of us guzzled from our glasses of wine.

Or maybe that was just me.

Anyways. We were determined to try it all, so we moved on to the Kamikaze Burst. Mike T. poured our second round, though he was a bit more reluctant this time around. As we all clinked our glasses together, I captured him with my camera looking so, so sad:

We drank.

At this point, we all had to take a break. I mean, the burst of flavor was just too much for us. We passed the time by surfing the Internet, and watching such gems as Jizz In My Pants, Hamster on a Piano, and Everyday Normal Guy. (This is how we roll.) After an acceptable amount of time, we gathered back around the coffee table for the final shot: the Red Headed Burst.

As soon as I snagged a whiff of my shot, I experienced flashbacks to my bachelorette party almost two years ago, when I had forgotten the names to all shots but jagermeister. I balked. "This smells like when I vomited for hours," I whined.

I eventually hunkered down beside the coffee table and prepared myself.

I only took a sip.

Amazingly, this last one actually tasted better than the rest and, dare I say, sort of good.

That didn't stop me from abandoning the rest of my shot.

Josh, however, continued to pour himself shots from the glass for the rest of the evening, while the rest of us cleared out the wine and beer in the fridge.

Pros to bar shots:

I don't know how to mix shots.
I don't feel like spending the money on the various liquors that would be required to mix shots.
Everything tastes better once you've been drinking for awhile.

Happy drinking!

Test Drive + Contest: Blondes Have More Hot Keys

Steph Auteri — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 20:54:00 GMT

I was going to make this a video post, but the product I'm reviewing is for blondes and while, on occasion, I get blonde highlights, I'm actually a brunette.

It just didn't seem right. I mean, such a video could serve to completely compromise your ability to imagine said product in action.

That and I'm totally having one of those deer-in-the-headlights/bad hair days.

Anyways. After the jump, the top 10 things I love and hate about the Keyboard for Blondes:

Top 10 Things I Love About the Keyboard for Blondes:

It's pink! I mean, purple is my true favorite color, but pink is pretty close.
It plugs right into my USB hub and, aside from a quick download and installation for full sound effect enjoyment, is ready to go!
The sound effects for the "$$$$" key and the "Eraser" key make me smile.
The F keys are labeled as "useless keys," which I find incredibly amusing.
You can make internet-speak even easier with keyboard shortcuts for such phrases as IDK, OMG, SOS ("Shoes on Sale"), and LOL.
When bored, you can follow one of the three "pink keys" to a random website (sort of like StumbleUpon...yet on a much smaller scale).
You can play music with the number keys.
No one else I know has this keyboard. Which makes me feel somewhat special.
You can turn off the sound if you'd like...but why would you want to?
It functions just like any other keyboard...yet has way more to offer in terms of entertainment value.

Top 10 Things I Hate About the Keyboard for Blondes:

It's pink! It's making my eyeballs hurt!
The concept itself is inherently offensive.
I am so sick of hearing "uh oh" or "oops" every time I delete something. God, I make a lot of typos! Hearing "Yes!" every time I press the "enter" — or "Yes! I want it!" — key also makes me want to tear my hair out.
I keep mixing up the "Tab" and "~" keys, because they are now labeled as "Useless Key" and "Any Key." The same thing happens when I try to figure out "control" and "alt," which are now known as "Useless Key" and "Somewhat Useless Key," and are separated on the keyboard by another key, labeled only with the image of what appears to be a flower pot.
I find some of the internet-speak dubious. Is ROI really shorthand for "Relaxing On Island"?
The websites you can visit via your pink keys are way lame! Pink Key 1 brought me to a YouTube video of synchronized sky divers. Pink Key 2 brought me to a YouTube video of a kite surfer. Pink Key 3 brought me to a slideshow of inspirational photographs. (The sites programmed to pop up with the use of these keys are changed periodically.)
The "up," "down," "left," and "right" buttons make a sustained chime that penetrates your ear drum and kills you instantly.
My husband now hates me, because my keyboard keeps making noises.
You can turn the sound off if you'd like...which you'll probably want to do before the end of the first day. Making it almost pointless to own.
I am hearing my keyboard's voice in my sleep.

Feel free to visit the website, where you can see the keyboard's keys in greater detail as you listen to an odd song in French (?). Order it for $49.95 here.

Or:

Leave a comment with the blondest thing you've ever done, and get the chance to win one!

Test Drive: Have the Neatest Desk Around

Steph Auteri — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 19:00:00 GMT

Desk detritus itemization of the day:

My grocery list
a Regina Spektor album
scattered post-its and business cards
headphones
a review copy of Show Me How
a bacon lip balm sample
O, The Oprah Magazine
tax return documents
etc.

While the NeatDesk package I received for review purposes couldn't help with all of this, I was surprised by how clean my desk could potentially be if only I had this helpful item.

When I first opened my NeatDesk package, with software and ADF scanner, I felt a bit overwhelmed by the necessity of setting up a new piece of hardware, yet still excited to play with a new toy.

Installation:

I pulled the scanner out of the box, and placed it on top of the paper tray. After plugging in the USB cable and power cord (the only difficulty lying in the fact that I didn't have enough outlets, which was annoying, and which I could only find out by crawling around under my desk amongst the dust bunnies and scattered litter), things were basically good to go, aside from the installation of the software.

Which was easy. Once popping in your installation CD, the installation wizard prompts you to either check for an updated version online, which you can then download and install, or to go ahead and install what you have. While some steps can take awhile (I made tea while I waited), it's all very straightforward.

After that, all that's left to be done is the calibration of your scanner (I swear, this is the last step). Your package should come with a sheet of calibration paper, which you put into the paper input tray before pressing the "calibrate" button on your NeatDesk dashboard. If it runs all the way through, your scanner is calibrated.

Mine did it on the second try.

NeatDesk In Action:

Okay. Here comes the way exciting part (and by "way exciting," I mean that it was way exciting for me because I am a huge dork when it comes to office supplies and organizational tools).

The NeatDesk dashboard consists of five tabs: Inbox, Receipts, Business Cards, Documents, and Tax Reports. I dutifully grabbed a business card off the pile sprayed across my desk. It was my shrink's, and contained her name, phone number, and mailing address. The scanner has three input slots for different-sized documents (see photo above), and I placed the card — face up — into the business card slot. It fed through quickly and, within moments, the file appeared in my Inbox tab.

I was then able to open up the file, and edit the information it had pulled from the image. The scanner had already successfully pulled my shrink's name, address, and phone number, so all I had to do was type in her e-mail address, which did not appear on her card. I then filed it away, sending it to the Business Cards tab.

This caused me no end of delight. I clapped my hands like a 3-year-old, and looked around my desk for additional items to scan in. I immediately happened upon the pile of receipts I was saving from all of my Christmas-related purchases. I scanned each one of them in using the receipt-sized slot, laughing giddily each time it flew through, and then checked each file. The software had pulled the store name, method of payment, and total cost from each receipt. I was then able to create a folder for these receipts (Christmas Purchases, of course) and file them away in the Receipts tab.

Finally, I scanned in my mother's recipe for Tassies, the Christmas cookie that we can never get enough of. Of course, we momentarily lose the recipe every year, resulting in a frantic top-to-bottom search of my condo, my parents' house, etc. If Iscanned it in for safekeeping, we would never have this problem again.

If you have good eyes, you can now enjoy this recipe as well.

The Wrap-Up:

Aside from the glee I apparently derive from scanning things at high speeds, I should probably tell you about some of the other features.

The scanner itself allows you to scan things in batches. You can fit in 10 receipts, 10 business cards, and 10 documents at a time, or you can remove the inner tray and put in 50 document pages at a time.

Once you've scanned in your receipts and filed them away in the appropriate tab, you can use them to track business expenses and generate expense reports, or you can export the information to other programs, such as Excel, QuickBooks, etc. Because the information in your images is now digitized, you can also easily search these files.

As far as your business cards go, you can export the information contained within these files to other applications, such as Microsoft Outlook.

When it comes to your documents, you can create .pdfs from your files. You can find out more here.

The only think that keeps me from picking up this particular scanner for myself is the price: $449.95. Then again, my at-home business is incredibly small-potatoes. You tell me: Would you consider the price tag worth it?

Test Drive: Computer Mouse Cradles Your Hand

Steph Auteri — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 21:00:00 GMT

Now that I work from home, at my computer, 24/7, I often worry about carpal tunnel syndrome. Because sometimes, when I'm drinking coffee, I feel a sharp, jabbing pain in my wrist, and have to put my coffee mug down or else risk spilling it all over my lap and across my keyboard. Which wouldn't be as bad as that time I spilled tea with honey all over my keyboard, but still.

I do a lot of wrist rolls, but I worry nevertheless.

So I was tres intrigued when I saw this ergonomic Handshoe Mouse over at Gizmodo.

The mouse is designed to contour to the natural at-rest position of your hand, so that your hand is completely relaxed while you're working.

When I first tried it out, it felt...weird. After all, I was used to arching my hand in a way that placed stress upon my wrist, as a means of keeping my fingers on the clickers. The Handshoe Mouse felt like a monstrosity.

After using it awhile, though, I began to wish that I didn't have to return mjy sample. Honestly, guys. When you place your hand on this mouse, you don't need to arch your hand. Rather, your thumb rests within the little thumb indentation while the rest of your fingers lay upon the curve with the clickers (it also includes the rolly-thing, for those of you who were worried about that).

Best of all, the back of the mouse spreads out to include the wrist itself (you can see this in the second shot), which precludes the need for a separate, squooshy wrist rest.

Which I feel is revolutionary, because I don't have a squooshy wrist rest to use in my bedroom, when I'm just on the laptop (and yes I use a mouse with the laptop).

The mouse comes in three sizes, depending upon the measurements of your hand, and there are also three colors to choose from (white, black, and clear...I suppose they're actually the anti-colors...). And there's no software to install before use. Just a USB cable.

I'll leave you to decide whether or not it's worth the money.

[$119.95, Handshoe Mouse]

Related: Test Drive: Privacy Mouse

Test Drive: Can This Toy Make You Scream Oh My...

Steph Auteri — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 19:24:00 GMT

Earlier today, I mentioned that I had scored one sweet toy over the weekend, at the launch party for a calendar benefiting Sex Work Awareness. I was way excited, mostly because I had always been intrigued by the OhMiBod, whose vibrations pulse in time to the music on your mp3 player (this is why Footloose exists). Still, I had never felt justified in spending the $70 on it.

The Naughtibod is also from the OhMiBod line, and works in much the same way as its predecessor, albeit in a slightly smaller package (that's what she said). This morning, after my morning cup of coffee and a bowl of Rice Krispies, I decided to whip off my Superman pajama pants and take my Naughtibod for a test drive.

I unpacked several items from the Naughtibod box:

the Naughtibod itself
two end caps, one for use with your mp3 player, the other for use without
two sets of batteries (despite an assertion in the user's manual that batteries were not included)
a wire for use in connecting your vibrator, iPod, and headphones
and a fuzzy pink drawstring bag for storage

Just to be completely thorough and scientific, I used the second end cap first, just to see what it had to offer. This particular end cap has no input for your mp3 player. Rather, it has two buttons, one of which lets you cycle between seven different vibrating patterns, and one to make the vibe stop.

I only tested this out on my hand, as I wanted to save the orgasms for the dance music, but I was able to note that the patterns were...sufficiently varied? Whatevs. It's a nice option to have if this is your only vibe, and if you don't feel like listening to anything but your own moans while you get yourself off. I cycled through the options quickly and rushed to switch end caps.

I plugged in my iPod, on which I then scrolled to my guilty pleasure playlist before putting in my earbuds. I reached...down there...with my Naughtibod.

Annie's "I Know Your Girlfriend Hates Me" blared in my ears, but I could barely feel anything in my nether regions. Crap! I knew that my stint reviewing sex toys would leave my bits immune to all but the most powerful of vibes! Still, I soldiered on, increasing the volume on my iPod, which in turn increased the power of the vibrations. At this point, I was risking permanent hearing loss, but I still wasn't feeling much down south. In addition, the pulsing of the vibe didn't seem much in keeping with the beat of the song. As a former band geek, this was totally throwing me off.

I fast forwarded, and Estelle's "American Boy" came on. Wth a strong beat, and a peppy tune, things began looking up. While the vibrations were still not as strong as I would have liked, I started to think that maybe my libido was awakening from its deep, deep (deep) slumber.

Big & Rich's "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" (shut up) came on next. The opening beats were matched by a staccato-like vibration, which felt...kinda nice. This didn't last long, though, as, once the song really got going, the vibrations morphed into a consistently steady hum. The song did't really have any low points that allowed the vibe to detect the underlying beat, so there was no variation in the vibe rhythms.

My ears, of course, were bleeding by this point.

J/K!

Seriously, though. I was getting a headache so, when Korn's "Word Up" came on next, I just took one of the earbuds out to give myself a break. Still, no matter how I squirmed and shifted and manipulated the vibe, I wasn't getting anywhere. And that is frustrating.

Eventually, I had to finish myself off with my old tried-and-true vibe. ::sigh:: Perhaps I'm just a creature of habit.

Still, though. You might appreciate this if you don't have the clit of stone that I apparently do. Happy vibing!

[$69, OhMiBod]

Test Drive: Flip Mino HD vs. Flip Mino + Video!

Alex Zalben — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 19:32:00 GMT

The good folks at Flip were nice enough to send me the just released Flip Mino HD, so naturally I ran it head to head with the previously released Flip Mino. You can check out the shaky comparison video above, and price and linkage below:

[$230, TheFlip.com]

Test Drive: Wireless Headphones Saved My Marriage

Steph Auteri — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 17:02:00 GMT

It's my own damn fault. When we first moved into the condo, I forbade Michael from putting a TV in the bedroom. Now, I struggle to blog from our office as Michael blares Hannah Montana from the next room over.

The two rooms are separated by nothing but a decorative screen.

Something, it takes nothing more than close quarters to make you question your compatibility with your significant other.

Then, in the mail, a lifesaver:

The Audiovox Acoustic research AWD510 wireless HD headphones! I have my husband set them up, because I am technologically challenged. Michael's take:

"I liked them a lot. There were a lot of wires to accommodate all kinds of television setups, which was both convenient and a bit confusing. Once I figured out where the plugs go, though (I have a life-long habit of not reading directions), it was cake.
The stereo sound quality is very good. In fact, a cell phone went off in the show I was watching, and I wasn't sure if it was in the show or my actual phone.
The distance you can travel with the wireless headphones on seems good, but I didn't fully test this. I know I can walk to my computer and to the bathroom and the sound quality remains as good as when I'm on the couch.
The comfort of the headphones is decent. It'd probably be better if I didn't have my glasses on, but they are nowhere near
as comfy as my Bose headphones. After about an hour and a half, the headphones pushing my ear and glasses against the side of my head became a bit painful.
Overall, I'd buy this item. It's at least cheaper than buying a second television for the bedroom!"

As far as things go on my end, it was eerily quiet in the condo as I clackety-clacked away on my keyboard, except for the moments when Michael laughed aloud at (seemingly) nothing.

That was a bit unnerving but, on the whole, I was able to overwork to my heart's content, which was nice. I am sad about sending the sample back, because I am cheap, and would rather someone other than me buys us a pair for keeps. But harmony in our one-bedroom condo? Priceless.

[$169.99, Amazon]

Test Drive: 2C Solar Light Cap

Steph Auteri — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 16:37:00 GMT

When I first posted about the 2C Solar Light Cap back in April, I thought it looked a little silly. Especially with that promotional photo (above), which made it look like some ominous, hat-shaped spaceship.

Then I got my own, and I felt oddly excited.

The 2C is a cap with solar-powered lights under the brim. It comes in a multitude of colors, but they only had red left as far as samples went. While I tend toward neutrals when picking out hats, I decided to consider this a good thing. After all, I happen to think that I look hot in red.

The first time I tried it was in bed.

"What the hell is that!?" my husband shouted, startled awake by the bright beams of light that had appeared when I'd compressed the button underneath the brim.

"It's my new book light," I told him petulantly. He put on his eyemask. The cats tried to pounce on the light. I was thrilled that I was reading without an overhead light, though it felt slightly weird to be wearing a baseball cap in bed.

The next time I tried it was on the bus. I figured that, as NJ Transit passengers can tend toward the psychotic, no one would give me a second glance. Still, as I happily read my book on the bus during my morning commute, I couldn't help but feel people's eyes on me. I wasn't used to being the nut job.

Undeterred, once in NYC, I asked a fellow coworker if I could recharge my hat on her windowsill. She seemed intrigued, though not necessarily ready to buy her own.

Finally, I took it one of the evening walks the hubby and I take. I marveled over and boasted about the strength of the light beams on the street ahead of us as the sky darkened. Still, I turned off the lights every time a car approached. In the suburbs of NJ, it doesn't take much for beeps and rude comments. And I am a fragile being.

The verdict?

There are sooo many ways to use this electricity- and battery-free hat, whether as a book light, as a means of searching through a dim closet, finding your way through a dark condo in the middle of the night without stepping on the cats, spelunking...

The world, however, may not be ready for something so wild. Perhaps I could start a trend?

[$39.90, 2C]

Test Drive: Privacy Mouse

Steph Auteri — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 16:40:00 GMT

Way back in the beginning of time (March), I did up a post on the USB Smart Privacy Mouse, available from USB Fever ($19.99). I've since gotten myself a sample, which I plan on raffling off to one of you fine readers.

But first, a quick test drive, so you know what you're getting into.

Back in March, I touted the privacy mouse's abilities to aid you in outwitting your boss, as it allows you to assign "hide" and "appear" designations to your open applications.

First step: Install the driver, which takes all of five seconds with the accompanying CD. After that, you can plug the mouse in to the closest USB port, at which point the Quick Button icon will pop up in your toolbar. After double clicking it, the following dashboard will pop up:

These are the applications I had open on my computer. After giggling at Fleshbot's tagline, I set about personalizing my settings.

At this point, I returned to Fleshbot, where I sometimes like to look for new, free porn, often available over at RedTube. (Don't judge people! I used to write adult content!)

I scrolled down through the posts, confident in the knowledge that, if my husband were to suddenly arrive home from work, all I would have to do is hit the mouse's side button with my thumb, and he would never ever know that his darling wife sometimes looks at free Internet porn.

I read about nude calendars, erotic photographers, and Buck Angel. I read about Catwoman porn, porn organization, and the world's hottest weather girl. After awhile, I heard a key in the lock, and I rushed to finish reading a post on sex blogs.

The door in the other room opened. "Hi honey!" I heard him shout, as he dropped his keys on the kitchen table. I scanned my screen: "...roundup of some of the hottest moments from the sex blog scene..." I heard him sweet-talking the cats. I scanned my screen: "Walking pantyless near the ocean? Better not try that in the winter!" I heard him walking toward me.

::click!::

He leaned over to kiss me hello. "Were you productive today, bunnykins?" he asked me (don't ask, punks). "I got a lot done," I replied. "What are you working on now?" he asked, glancing at the screen. "This is just another review collation for that publisher," I replied. "Good," he said in that way I hate, because I know he's just checking up on me to make sure I didn't watch Project Runway repeats all day.

He headed off toward the bedroom, to change out of his work clothes. I moved to shut down Fleshbot for the day, though it didn't matter either way. When you click to hide a certain application, it doesn't even show up in your toolbar!

In the end, I thought it was a pretty nifty gadget to have, though — more than anything else — I was excited about the fact that the glowing scroll button turned from blue to purple whenever you moved it:

Are you sold? If you'd like to win the one free privacy mouse I have available, let me know, in the comments, what you've got to hide.

Related: Outwit Your Witless Boss

Test Drive: Loc8tor Lite

Steph Auteri — Mon, 05 May 2008 20:30:00 GMT

[$79.99, Loc8tor]

God, I'm unphotogenic.

Anyways.

Way back when, I posted about the Loc8tor Lite, a new personal tracking device. In the interests of science, I thought it would be good to borrow one for testing purposes. After the jump, I play hide & seek with my lens cap, an item that is always getting misplaced.

The good people behind the Loc8tor were kind enough to send me an already-activated specimen, and an already-registered homing tag. Using one of the the included adhesive tabs, I attached the homing device to my lens cap.

Then, I counted to 100 while Michael hid my lens cap somewhere in the depths of our disaster-of-a-condo.

After reaching 100 and shouting "Ready or not, here I come!" (some aspects of this story may or may not be true), I powered up the Loc8tor and began stumbling through the condo.

I went a mere three steps before getting an encouraging orange light (well, at least it wasn't red) and a quickening beep-beep-beep. Excited, I began looking around one of our end tables, and through our piles of recycling containers.

No dice. It was at about this time that my lab partner in crime began taunting me. "You really suck at this," he said, as I began flipping through the mail. "Don't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"The homing tag is beeping too!"

"Really? I can't hear anything over the sound of this thing in my hand," I insisted, as the Loc8tor beep-boop-bopped in my hand.

Michael shook his head. "Just keep looking," he said, sounding dejected.

I made my way into the kitchen, where suddenly I could hear something else beeping. Unfortunately — like a gunshot in an open space — the damn beep sounded as if it was coming from everywhere! Here is me beginning to lose my tenuous grip on reality:

I tried to listen to the beeping of the homing device. Then I tried to ignore the beeping. I tried to concentrate on the beeping of the Loc8tor itself, and the blinky lights, which were showing progressively higher levels of green.

Finally, I happened upon my lens cap in a cabinet above the stove! When in heck would I ever lose a lens cap there!?

On a second test drive, in which I hid the lens cap behind a pillow in the loving room, the beeping of the homing device was louder, and much easier to pinpoint. So the Loc8tor could theoretically come in handy. If you happen to have one of the two homing devices attached to the object that you actually end up losing. For those who lose the same thing over and over, perhaps it would be worth the $80. What do you think? Love or Leave?

Test Drive: The Resume Shirt

Steph Auteri — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 16:30:00 GMT

I am so excited to be bringing you my very first Test Drive post, as I do so love humiliating myself in public.

Okay. That was sarcasm. I'm actually terrified of calling attention to myself in public, and my stomach was in knots on the day of this experiment.

But I still wanted to do this. For you.

I'm so glad we've had this moment.

Anyways. About a month ago, I posted about resume tees, thinking they were a pretty nifty form of guerilla marketing.

But I still had the burning desire to see one of these tees in action.

Hence my subsequent acquisition of my very own resume tee, which I then took out on the town for an evening of networking at one of MediaBistro's all-media happy hours.

You'll find my tale of desperation and debauchery after the jump.

So.

On my way to the happy hour, I tried to act breezy and confident, swinging my arms, holding my head up high as I struggled to figure out where in heck this bar was. I pretended to be unaware of all the people staring at my chest.

(Note: Photos are artfully angled so as to hide my muffin top.)

I managed to finally make it to the bar unscathed, without any job offers from sidewalk vendors or lost, wandering Wall Street analysts, and rendezvoused with a friend. And then I proceeded to chug two large glasses of wine, so as to loosen myself up.

We were approached almost immediately, by a woman who was obviously only interested in the charms of my attractive male companion. I noticed her notice my shirt. She obviously considered me far too inconsequential to converse with, so I busied myself with ordering another glass of wine. Finally, we broke away from my buddy's new friend, and threw ourselves into the fray.

A cute young woman walked up to us and introduced herself. She asked me if I was looking for a job. I told her I was trying to test the waters, to see if anyone would consider hiring someone who wore a resume t-shirt. She conceded, at least, that it was definitely bold. "You should see the back!" I told her, and spun around.

She was suitably impressed.

Throughout the course of the evening, my shirt proved to be quite the conversation-starter. Still, inexplicably, no one offered me a job.

My friend and I left the event having enjoyed an evening full of rich conversation. Still, the hors d'ouevres left much to be desired, and we decided to stop at a pizzeria on our way to the subway. "You love job offers..." the pizza man said to me, questioningly, bemusedly. "Oh yes I do!" I crowed, having been thoroughly loosened up over the course of the evening. "You come back next week," he told me. "I have a job for you washing dishes." I cheerfully accepted his job offer.

You've heard it here folks. Only three hours out with the resume t-shirt, and already I had my first job offer! You should consider ordering one as well!

I was so excited about my success, I gloated to my husband for quite some time upon my arrival home. He took this drunken photo of me:

That is one happy customer.

Anyways. Blackbird Tees doesn't do only resume tees. In fact, I have a completely different t-shirt of theirs that I would like to raffle off to you, in a unisex size small (similar to women's medium):

All you have to do is either e-mail me or leave a comment with the most bold thing you've ever done to solicit a job offer. I will announce the winner a week from now.

Onward!