Here are a few choice excerpts from Regretsy (NSFW); just a taste, mind you, no substitute for a visit. Be careful, though, because the amazing site is not always safe for work. Looking over the entries makes me wish it were as fictitious as Kasper Hauser's brilliant—but mercifully fake—SkyMaul.

Regarding the lovely lady and her cheese-grater clock, Regretsy says: Oh sure, it's not perfect, but you try cleaning a cheese grater with a cigarette.

Regretsy says: Whenever I hear "Michael Jackson", I immediately think "baseball". Well technically, I think "Little League", but you know what I'm saying. [Link]

Regretsy says: Usually I just use the guest towels when we're out of toilet paper. [Link]

Regretsy says: You know what goats like? They like grass. They don't like having leopard outfits strapped to their sagging haunches like Kim Cattrall. [Link]

Regretsy says: Santo trompas de Falopio! Who wouldn't want to curl up with the stuffed reproductive organs of Mexico's most famous bisexual surrealist? [Link]

It goes without saying "Santo trompas de Falopio!" is my new favorite expression of surprise. Hit the site for way more where this came from. [Regretsy (NSFW)]

I was tired, exhausted, and about to fall asleep standing up (there were no seats in the pit). The week had been hell, and I was physically and emotionally destroyed. But then, the band and the Boss took the stage and night and blasted everything away. In a few seconds, as the adrenalin kicked in, the exhaustion disappeared. Then Radio Nowhere came. And Lonesome Day. And the Promised Land. From there, he and his band made every single one of the 60,000 souls in the stadium fly.

Three hours of pure rock, with the Boss giving it all until the end, when he sung a 10-minute version of Twist And Shout, mixed with—get this—La Bamba. Not a single pause. Just music, heart and soul. I just couldn't believe this guy is almost as old as my dad. Forget Mick Jagger. Forget bloody Bono. He is the greatest rock musician alive, a true force of nature.

And I'm not even—or was not, until this day—a fan. The whole thing was totally unexpected for me. At the beginning I thought "this is going to be amazing" and I realized I only had my iPhone, because like every other concert, cameras and camcorders are absolutely prohibited. Especially when you are in the front row and the security guy can shake your hand. Or get your camera away.

During the whole concert, the entire stadium was under his command, jumping, singing, waving, screaming, completely in ecstasy, electrified, everyone sweating under the hot Spanish summer night. He and the band were enjoying the whole thing to no end. You could see them laughing, looking at us with real surprise in their faces, as if they weren't believing that this huge stadium just couldn't stop singing and jumping through every single one of the songs they played.

They were giving all their life away right there, and the public was returning it right back. With interest. Each of us. Mass hysteria. Crowd orgasm. Total love and dedication from Bruce, the band, and the public.

At one point—one of many in which he came to sing even closer to us—the Boss walked to the central platform and took a girl up on the stage. I knew she was the daughter of one of the Spanish fans—who had been following him through the whole tour—because I met her before the concert started. She danced with him for a minute, smiling while the band played. It was just one of the many "I can't believe this is happening" moments of the night.

Right there, in the very first row, in the corner of the central platform, I could see all these moments perfectly, like I'm seeing the screen of my computer right now. We were able to actually shake his hand, as well as the hands of the band—who at the end all came to the center platform. I shouted at him at one point ("Yes! Take us up there!") and he replied looking straight into my eyes, with the biggest smile, pointing at me and saying "Yes, I'm going to take you there!" just before the band exploded with sound.

Another time, I could see him turning to Max Weinberg—at the end of Seven Nights to Rock—and whisper: "Born to Run!" And (boom!) Born to Run started to play a second later. At any time, I could turn around and see the 60,000 people in the Santiago Bernabéu—the name of the Real Madrid football stadium—singing, clapping, taken way by his power. Yes, it was absolutely breathtaking. All of it. From the very beginning I thought: "I have to share this with the people I love. I can't do this justice with my description. I have to take photos."

There was when I started hating the iPhone's camera.

Nothing, I wasn't able to take any of this magic with clarity. I'm not even talking about recording video (don't get me started on that). I'm just talking about making a decent photo with one of the most advanced pieces of technology ever developed. Only one single photo that didn't appear to be taken with a broken Lomo. By a drunk guy. Without a decent sleep in the last three days (OK, forget about the part about the drunk guy.)

Sure, there was some clear pics here and there, but whatever was OK'ish, it was also completely crazy and badly framed. Some of them look nice—as you can see here, in the gallery of untouched images—but most of them need cropping and heavy Photoshop treatment.

I know most cellphone cameras are exactly the same. They behave poorly under low light conditions, they are slow, and have bad interfaces. And yes, I have to admit I like the iPhone's camera blurriness and unwanted "special effects" sometimes. I even try to get similar effects with my DSLR. But that's optional. This time I only wanted one thing: to be able to frame a good photo. Without having to hold the iPhone in a weird position. Without trying to find the stupid software interface button and not miss the shot (which I did, plenty of times).

That's what I want. I don't want more resolution, and I don't want a stupid zoom. I would be happy (HAPPY) with good lenses and a better, speedier, more luminous sensor. And of course, the physical button. In fact, scrap the rest. Just give me the physical button. As much as I love virtual interfaces—because they open the door to multi-functional devices at a low cost, with great power and flexibility—I'm afraid that there are still times when the only way to go is a physical button. Photography is one of them.

And since we are at it, here's a note for the Nokias, Sony Ericssons, Samsungs, and LGs of this world: stop doing the silly marketdrone "More megapixels!" and "Bigger optical zooms!" race. Educate the users. Don't dazzle them with higher numbers. Give us all more quality, more light, and more speed. That's what really counts to catch the special, truly ephemeral, completely unexpected moments you want to save forever. Because when I think about it, even while I will always keep this concert in my—blurry as the iPhone's camera—memory, there would never be another one like it.

That's exactly what cellphone cameras are for. To capture the unexpected, to take decent pictures of the special moments in your life, because we can't go around life with a camera in our pocket at all times. That's what I want in an cellphone and, especially, in the iPhone. A camera to be able to take any moment we want, fast, and with good quality, under most circumstances. And Señor Jobs, no matter what, please give us the physical button on the iPhone 3G 2.0.

Seriously, I love pearl G-strings, but that sex-less editing almost took my fetish away. How can anyone use the infinite power of this software to create this crap—then spend thousands of dollars publishing it in magazine covers, catalogs, product packaging, and online shops—is beyond me. Specially knowing that any of your Photobotch works have 100 times the quality of these commercial pieces. [Photoshop Disasters]

I don't know about you, but I would kill for a real fridge with Han Solo in carbonite on the door. Click the source for a lot more of these crazy promotional gadgets. They have a Bespin Cloud City lamp I could kill for. And make Addy want to kill me. [Action Figure Insider]

The original article appeared in Realtid.se, a gossip online mag that according to our sources in Sweden lacks any kind of credibility and "should be avoided at all costs." In the article, Carl Freer talks about launching a new Gizmondo with a wider screen and a possible co-op with an unnamed telco where customers will be offered a Gizmondo for free, just for signing up for a data transfer subscription.

Freer, long-time friend and associate of famed Ferrari-crasher, fraudster and fellow ex-convict Stefan Eriksson, was recently arrested in the US for impersonating an "anti-terrorist agent" and illegal possession of guns. He was also previously convicted in Sweden for fraud and fined $265,000 in Germany in 2006 for writing bouncing checks as a car dealer during the '90s.

The Realtid report spread then to two other, more serious newspapers: Veckans Affärer and the Dina Pengar. The latter quoted both Realtid and Veckans Affärer, tying up all the speculation with the last piece of the puzzle, a flash animation hosted at Gizmondolive.com. According to one source, the Dina Pengar article "is not good. They are just quoting other sources and try to put two and two together and end up with three."

Whois shows Gizmondolive.com was registered by Domains by Proxy, Inc., an anonymous web domain registration system designed to hide the identity of the real owner of the site. At this time, the owner of Gizmondolive.com remains unknown. Meanwhile, Gizmondo.com, the actual domain in which any of this would have actually happened, remains parked and in the property of Gizmondo Europe Ltd. (which presumably is owned by the company's debt liquidators.)

So yes, the November 2007 quote by Freer is allegedly real. As another source, Swedish IT journalist Joacim Melin, puts it: "in plain English, he [Freer] is probably bullshitting to attract any kind of venture capitalist" just like they did with the original Gizmondo. The rest, however, is just castles in the air and speculation at this point.

Our guess, looking at the evidence, is that the site was made by some joker following up the November 2007 quote. But who knows, maybe the next Vapormondo will have "psychic powers," as they say. In either case, with the history above, don't count on this happening. And good riddance, is all I can say.

UPDATE: In addition to all this, reader Sean sent us this flash template, which apparently was used in the the Gizmondolive.com animation and further shows that it's probably the job of a prankster.

[Realtid.se, Dina Pengar and ekonominyheterna - In Swedish. Additional sources: MoneyWeek]

The biggest standard consumer-oriented change is probably that the phone supports 12 languages out of the box, along with special keyboards for French and German languages (we guess that the other languages see a more limited level of support).

There's also bundled free access to The Cloud Wi-Fi hotspots, which we've already seen in the European iPod Touch.

And like we said, no more iPhone hacking for a little while. [t3]

Don't waste your $20 on this toy later this summer when it is released.–Travis Hudson

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But the ClamperPod isn't a parody, or even intended as parody. The ClamperPod is available for $16.95 on a site filled with other legitimately shoddy camera accessories. And then you realize the Internet is but a conglomerate of dreams, most of them pitiful. – Mark Wilson

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