I Scream For Ice Cream! And Pickles. And Pizza. And...
About some things, I have no shame. I sing (AND DANCE) along with the grocery store Muzak -- right in the condiment aisle! I talk to my dog as though she were my BFF and could give me advice as to why my hair is limp and lifeless despite the application of approximately eight million different brands of conditioner. But I AM deeply ashamed of the fact that, while I have been pregnant, my life has devolved into sitcom cliché: I crave ice cream like Lindsay Lohan craves crack and rehab. I can't get enough! Night, day, elevenses, second breakfast, posting to CONSUME: anytime is a good time for ice cream.
As long as I'm indulging myself, the least I can do is have some sexy ice cream bowls (like these Zaks!) lying around at my disposal. Hip moms like me don't eat ice cream out of plain old ordinary cereal bowls. (That's what I keep telling the dog, anyway.)
Buy it! Zak Ice Cream Bowl (kiwi), $9.99, at amazon.com.
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And when I rolled out of bed this morning, here I thought it would be another uneventful Monday. I couldn't have been MORE wrong, because I defied death not once (dodging a Wisconsin driver who decided that that red light couldn't possibly apply to HIM), but TWICE (getting all insert-NASCAR-driver-of-your-choice with my mad defensive driving skills as some guy wiped out in front of me -- apparently the clear skies and dry pavement were just too much for him to handle.) 
You know, when I visit my local warehouse club superstore, I like to think that I'm really saving money when I purchase my 3-gallon jars of mayonnaise. (What can I say? I like mayonnaise.) But until Miracle Whip finds a way to thwart quantum physics, a 3-gallon jar is always going to necessarily be -- shall we say -- freakin' huge. SO huge that it just laughs in derision at my puny traditionally-sized butter knife as I futilely try to scoop the last 64 ounces out of the bottom of the jar without staining the first foot-and-a-half of my favorite shirt's sleeve. It's enough to make me wish I had a 20-inch tongue like a giraffe! (Not for the first time, believe-you-me.) But hallelujah! The Condiment Spatula's long handle and flexible scoop fulfill my obsessive need to wring every last drop of deliciousness out of my condiments. And best of all, they come in a set of 4 -- one for every jar of mayonnaise I have open! (I TOLD you I liked mayonnaise.)
Remember how cool everything used to be in all those Flash Gordon serials? All of ol' Flash's stuff was shiny metal and had fins and antennae and blinking lights and could probably control his rocket-ship from the comfort of his own home. Even the stuff that didn't have to! Like his toothbrush. Or his alarm clock. Or this brilliant Kenwood toaster, which, although it probably isn't going to be guiding any ships in for a landing, could at least pick up the latest transmission from Dr. Zarkov, being that it comes with a RADIO. Hot toasty goodness AND interspace communications? Again, I'm forced to wonder why OUR future sucks so much -- my toaster can only just barely change the TV channel. (I probably should have hired an expert to wire my house instead of doing it myself...) 
I know that, as a woman of the gestational persuasion, there are certain expectations that I need to live up to (mostly so as not to make my sisters-in-fertility look bad.) For example, I must send Mr. rethwyll out for some obscure brand of ice cream only available at the organic food co-op all the way across town at 2am in the morning. I must burst into tears at least 37 times a day. And I must develop all manner of bizarre food cravings, equal parts magically delicious and horrifyingly retch-inducing, preferably featuring one of the following: pickles, sauerkraut, chocolate, bacon, grape jelly or wasabi-covered peas. 
I got all excited when I saw this one, because I thought sure that this was a product that I, like all monkey haters everywhere, could get behind. I mean -- A MONKEY PEELER. Listen people: I hate to break it to you, but monkeys? Are evil. Dressing them in slacks and cowboy hats is only compounding the problem. One day, they're "sticking you up" with a banana -- hilarity! The next, they're hotwiring your car and going joyriding around town, buzzing the city zoo. Surely I'm not the only one who thinks a monkey peeler could put the fear of God (so to speak) in those diabolical fiends... Or, I suppose you could also make French fries with it. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.
Mr. rethwyll is true renaissance man: outdoorsman, technology geek and a super-fantastic cake baker. He's made and decorated his sister's wedding cake, a cake for a colleague's baby shower and countless "just because it's Tuesday" cakes for both his and my offices. I will do whatever I can to encourage this particular hobby because, hey! Leftover cake! 
Whether we choose to admit it or not, each of us has our vices. For some, it's cigarettes. For others, it's beer. For still others, it's sex with elderly clowns. (OR SO I'VE HEARD.) My particular vice happens to be Chinese takeout. If COPS were ever to film in my town, my segment would feature a clean-cut young officer breaking down my door only to find me face-down in a plate of orange chicken with a packet of duck sauce shoved up my nose. If loving lo mein is wrong, I don't want to be right.
Flu season is in full-swing, as is evidenced by the 3-foot-deep pile of wadded-up Kleenex next to our bed. We would kick ourselves for not buffing up our immune system while we had the chance, but that would require crawling out from beneath our blankie. (Sooo...tired...) 
These pierced and tattooed pieces of breakfastware won't make you one of us, but they definitely show off your affinity for modified bodies. They're also a great way remind your stuffy coworkers that, though you may not be sporting visible piercings, there are lots of places on your body that could have a spike through them. And nobody will make fun of your iced half-caf, vanilla soy latte if the mug is sporting a big fat lip ring!
We're fairly certain that if there were an epicurean contest of skill to create the world's first edible orgasm, the result would be something akin to these Sterling "Cappuccino Liqueur with a Twist" Truffle Bars. (Their deliciousness would somewhat mitigate the fact that said contest would probably be hosted by Rachel Ray and shown approximately 237 times a week on The Food Network.) Each bar (available in 6oz. and 12oz. sizes) is hand-crafted from 3 kinds of chocolate (milk chocolate, coffee-infused white chocolate and dark chocolate), then flavored with coffee liqueur and the barest kiss of lemon finish. As if that weren't enough, the entire bar is then lovingly and gorgeously hand-painted with a contemporary Asian-inspired flower motif, making these bars a delight to the eye as well as the tongue. We suggest you lock the door, turn down the lights and treat yourself to some oral satisfaction courtesy of Sterling Confections.
With 
We are convinced that someday soon, a shepherd in Syria will discover the secret cave where the REAL version of Genesis has been hidden, the version that reveals that God created bacon just after placing the sun in the sky. Bacon. Canadian bacon. Mexican bacon. We love this most delicious of meat-based foods in all of its heavenly incarnations. Until this very moment, however, we were unaware that a) there was such a thing as an artisanal bacon movement and b) it was possible to have artisanal bacon delivered right to ONE'S VERY DOORSTEP.
If you don't live around a Jamba Juice, it sucks to be you. They have come out with a bunch of new ways to get you wired, naturally. We're pretty excited about these, because most people don't know about their secret ingredient. Knowing things that other people don't is what makes us cool.
These polka dot plates remind us of those optical illusions that ask you to stare at a grid of dots for a certain amount of time before a picture of an elephant appears or everything starts blinking neon pink, or you lose total bowel control. Hopefully that won't happen when you are eating from them. 
And if your kitchenware design motif skews more towards the lowres, these Digital platters bring the joys of JPG compression right to the dinner table. We wonder what these pixels may have once represented. Hopefully something tasty.
We fell in love with Bundaberg Ginger Beer during a brief period spent living in terrifying sin in New Zealand. It is made in Australia. It tastes like ten thousand blessings on your tongue from an angel.
We are generally of the opinion that bamboo is a good thing to makes stuff out of. It grows fast and biodegrades fast. It tastes good in miso soup. Bambu (ho! what a clever misspelling, trademark seeker!) is a company that even makes kitchenware out of bamboo! Oh, all the amazing things it can do!
Cricket Cola is a soda made from green tea, kola nut, and cane sugar. The diet version uses Splenda instead of aspartame. It is fizzy and caffeinated, just like normal soda. It's hard to describe exactly what it tastes like, but imagine Coke if Coke was made from natural ingredients instead of in a chemical plant. That's what it tastes like. It's good.
We were going to write about the new teas from POM and tell you how they were tasty and refreshing and how the different fruit flavors -- blackberry, lychee, peach, etc -- really shine through and make for a really satisfying beverage. We were going to say that, though they cost about $3.50 a pop, it's worth it, because this drink is really good.
or, add Consume to your newsreader of choice...
