Divorce is a painful process for all concerned, especially when you're left with no furniture, no apartment and no one to remind you what your kid is allergic to. Fortunately, there's an entire industry of underground wife-for-hire services.
The Rejected List
Things We Left Behind in 2007
<em>We've got a pretty good filter here at UD, and most of what we see gets tossed aside after just aglance. Here, making their proud, shining debut are a few of those products and services that just missedthe cut. By a landslide.</em>
There were a lot of social networking sites around this year—but this one involves a clothing line for members, consisting almost entirely of unsightly polo shirts. As an added bonus, each shirt comes with a code so fellow Claseo members can recognize you and look you up online. Like Facebook, but with barcodes and visible seams. And if you're worried about whether it's classy, you can just say the name slowly.
Sometimes, after a hard day at the office, you just want to soak in an enormous glass block. Add in a platter for your bubbly, a lawn chair for your back, and floor lamp to accentuate your chest hair, and you're ready for the terrifying future of bathing.
Cigars are great but there are a couple things we'd change. The smell, for instance. And probably the smoke too. Maybe we should lose the whole "burning" thing entirely. In fact, just give me an electric kazoo filled with chemicals.
A lot of things can make you feel like a million dollars, but there aren't many products that can increase the physical worth of your body. One of the early product offerings of the Bowery's New Museum, the Gold Pill promises to do just that. Pop a couple early in the night, and you'll have more than a hundred bucks worth of precious metals working their way through your digestive tract. Brag discreetly.
The garment industry is a tough racket, and Swedish grandmothers are its latest victims. Kept alive to an unnatural age by national healthcare, these silver foxes have no choice but to turn to menial labor, paying for their vodka by knitting socks and mittens for the developed world. It's 27.50 EU per pair, but it's worth it to keep these kids off the street.