Lucia Lorio, a luxury lingerie designer, has created a “Find Me If You Can” bra and panties set that comes with its own GPS tracking system. On the side of the sheer white bodice, a black device has been stitched into the hem—ostensibly so your lover knows where you are. Needless to say, many are calling the set made for stalking a “modern day chastity belt.” However, Lorio defends her product: “In London, New York, Rio de Janeiro—wherever there is danger, the underwear may prove to be a lifesaver.” Ironically, it looks like the lingerie equivalent of the GPS ankle bracelet that sex offenders on parole have to wear. Lorio’s selling her high-tech undergarment system for a grand a piece, plus the monthly monitoring fee. It seems like a rip off for something that’s supposed to get ripped off you, and it’s creepy to think about someone trying to keep tabs on your location, especially by tracking your underpants. Consider yourself warned, ladies. It’s all fun and games getting followed via your lingerie—until you realize you’re living in 1984, and Big Brother’s in your underwear drawer. [Daily Mail]

The text message: the worst invention to ever happen to dating. Well, it’s at least a close second to the chastity belt. This technological form of “communication” has already left a trail of tears amongst my gal pals. From late night sex solicitation to crazy guys who use the stilted language as a crutch for their fears, the text message has been taking relationships down a notch. Now it’s bullying poor Jennifer Aniston. Everyone’s watched her ex John Mayer put on a show of his breakup blues. He’s been seen around town covering his puffy eyes with stupid sweaters and scarves.  But what about Jennifer? She’s been keeping the highly publicized romance classy by keeping her mouth shut. But since her friends don’t share her tact, they’re dishing all the dirt, and apparently, she got dumped via text! It all started with a heated argument where John admitted he didn’t share her “first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage” plan. After hanging up the phone he texted her, “That’s it—the end.” Say it to her face! What a wuss. Damn you text messages, you let another one slip through our fingers. [Denver Post]