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Hey guys, I’m terribly sorry to be the bearer of bad news but unfortunately, Civilization is over. Not yet completely collapsed, mind you – for a brief time civilization will lumber onward on sheer momentum – but the event horizon of its destruction has been crossed, the decline well on its way. Prepare yourselves well for the coming collapse.

How do I know this? Behold:

teeny weeny bikinis

sexxxxxy phone

Skimming ebay, I came across this auction for “Sexy Thongs Bikini Briefs Case Cover For Protect iphone 4 / 4S / 5 Home Key”. It’s not just that someone thought up, designed, manufactured and is now selling tiny bikini bottoms for your inanimate portable computer that tolls the bell for humanity, it’s that this very auction has 20 watchers and 22 SOLD“What….why….WHY?!” you might ask. The auction helpfully explains:

“Designed to cover the home button and charging ports whilst giving your smart phone a sexy look.”

There you go. Achewood came surprisingly close to predicting this very day, and I presume if people are paying actual currency to imply their phone has genitalia they’re covering up, the full reveal of phone nuts cannot be far behind. The sheer variety of these rubber gewgaws has disturbing implications of shades and varieties of people who would want this object, from gaming nerds to girly-girls. An appeal to fashionistas with a Comme De Garcons ripoff further suggests this would appeal to all strata of consumer (which again, Achewood called with ChatSack by Karl Lagerfeld).

Look upon what the world has become, and despair.



red snake

Red-snake sounds like a terrible double-entendre.




This, this is truly the most disturbing part. I’ve seen it happen before, where a stupid idea is birthed unto the world, takes on a life of its own, and begins mutating. Give it a year or two and the trend becomes so far removed from the original if looked at as a stand-alone the mind boggles at how this object came to be. This is only the beginning, people.

boxer briefs

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Heading back to work after a luxurious 3-day weekend is always a drag, particularly if, as I do, you work in a communal basement space lit by those fluorescent bulbs designed to keep teenagers from loitering. It was with heavy heart I trudged over to the large, filthy slab table my coworkers and I share to sign into a computer, mentally gearing myself for another day whisking to and fro to the tune of one long, endless Katy Perry song, aka Z100.

After 2 minutes went by without hearing her goat-like bleat, I realized what song I was listening to. It was so strange my brain had purposefully not registered it, instead letting small elements (off-key vocals, familiar tune, the phrase ‘raving shoes’) trickle through before the sheer ridiculousness of it flooded my brain, prompting me to say out loud, “Is this a rave version of ‘Walking In Memphis?!’”

Several coworkers, equally perplexed, confirmed yes, yes it was. And then the bagpipes kicked in.

Several points: 1) The singer, a fellow called Scooter, repeatedly asks ‘Do I really feel the way I feel?’ This should not be a trick question, unless as I presume is true he’s tripping balls on something. Who would know the state of Scooter better than Scooter, Scooter?

2) What the hell are ‘raving shoes’? Oh wait, I answered my own question.

3) I’m starting a rumor that Scooter is actually Glenn Beck’s younger brother. But, you say, he has a vaguely Englishy accent! Yeah, so did early Al Jourgensen.

Man, that’s a hell of a way to start the week.

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