It’s a particularly odd feeling to have someone call you so you can find your cell phone, and I feel even dorkier when I’m home alone and have to email someone to call me to help me find my phone — and oh how I wish I could sometimes call my keys (or my favorite vibrator, for that matter). Maybe if I picked up a Smart Finder, I’d never have to ransack my house again (or hold interns upside down by their ankles) looking for my Pink Pleasure Bunny (and hopefully I won’t discover that like “finding” my glasses on my face, it was where I wanted it all along).
Smart Finder (girl-shop.co.uk, via Spluch)