Image via MondoSkepto

NPR has a great story about how Kinoki Foot Pads are the biggest scam that ever scammed. An independent lab confirmed that there was no difference between an unused pad and a pad that had spent the prescribed amount of time stuck to a tester's foot. Well, of course there wasn't. The only toxins you lose are the ones that live on your hard-earned lipstick money. But then again, we told you this way back in February.

You are fully entitled to being smug around your gullible friends about this. We've got your back.

Image via Yearbook Yourself

What is it with these self-indulgent photo manipulation sites? Personally, all I've ever wanted was a good one to road-test different hair colors (I mean, yeah, I can admit that), but things are getting so much more random and more specific than that. As if that whole dog and pony show where you could see what you looked like as a different race, age, animal or, um, Manga character wasn't enough, now there's Yearbook Yourself, where you can upload a photo and see what you would look like as a '50s maven or an '80s new waver, all within the context of a high school yearbook. Because um, yeah, we really need to do that.

Image via Fuzzing.com

I'm always skeptical of beauty products that contain the words "boob" or "breast" in the title. Even if you are the type of person that's fastidious enough to manage caring for your girls, couldn't you use any facial product on your breasts, too? Do we really need a separate product for this?

Image via goateesaver.com

So I was at a party this weekend and somehow the conversation on my side of the room steered toward facial hair (men's, to be more specific). It's fascinating to hear the lengths (heh) some dudes will go to in order to turn out a perfectly shaped mound of scruff. One guy spoke lovingly of the "Tom Hanks in Cast Away"-level beard he managed to cultivate last summer, and another asked him what he did with it when he chopped it off, to which the formerly hairy man claimed, "Um, nothing?" "You didn't save it?" bro number two admonished him, as if he had discarded his cherished pet in a dumpster. And as you can imagine, the convo just degraded from there.

This was still fresh on my mind when I stumbled upon the Goatee Saver. Thinking it was, indeed, some kind of receptacle designed to remove the facial hair in one fell swoop (in order to preserve its pristine dignity for time immemorial in some manly version of a hope chest), I clicked on the site only to find that it was even more ridiculous, as if that's even possible.