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College Students Create Nail Polish That Changes Colors When Exposed To Date Rape Drugs

enhanced-10090-1408915655-21 Four male students at North Carolina State University are attempting to put an end to date rape with their own hands. More accurately, they’re ending it with the hands of their friends, girlfriends and female supporters. The guys — Ankesh Madan, Stephen Gray, Tyler Confrey-Maloney and Tasso Von Windheim — have invented a nail polish called Undercover Colors that changes shades when touched by date rape drugs. They aim to protect their loved ones and women who may not have anyone present to watch out for them, according to Undercover Colors’ Facebook page. It reads,

In the U.S., 18% of women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. That’s almost one out of every five women in our country. We may not know who they are, but these women are not faceless. They are our daughters, they are our girlfriends, and they are our friends.

The varnish is an innovative step towards more effective systems of rape prevention in bars and at parties. The company calls itself the “first fashion company working to prevent sexual assault.” 10431442_1469983739910927_8197100455533721168_n Undercover Colors’ brilliant idea combines the stylish practicality of nail polish with chemicals that can detect Rohypnol, Xanax and GHB. When wearing the polish, women can test their drink by stirring it with their finger. The company hopes to make would-be rapists fear the potential repercussions of being caught trying to drug a woman. Its profile states,

Through this nail polish and similar technologies, we hope to make potential perpetrators afraid to spike a woman’s drink because there’s now a risk that they can get caught. In effect, we want to shift the fear from the victims to the perpetrators.

In order to make their invention a reality, the cofounders are asking for donations from supporters. H/T: Slash Gear, Photos Courtesy: Undercover Colors

Ice Bucket Challenge, Game Over

This Video Of A Guy Flying Through The Alps In A Wing Suit Is Out Of Control

Schoolboy Q Teamed Up With Footaction To Let Fans Remix His ‘Man Of The Year’ Video


Footaction recently teamed up with TDE rapper Schoolboy Q to create the Own The Summer project. The project gave fans an opportunity to showcase their individual styles through Instagram and Vine by hashtagging #OwnTheSummer for a chance to be featured in a remixed version of Q’s smash-hit “Man Of The Year.”

Trying something outside of the norm involving Q’s fans was something he’s been really excited do. He told Elite Daily,

It was dope to link up with them and do something different for a change instead of doing the same thing I’m usually doing. It’s nice how you can work with my fans you know? The people that’s supporting you.

In just a few of the hundreds of submissions, fans are seen pop-locking and back flipping to showcase their styles. The features Q is looking for are “Who’s really on their sh*t, who’s having fun, who’s happy, who’s confident.”

When it comes to style, it’s no question that the bucket hat has been a symbol of his influence.

Although he doesn’t take full credit for it, he explains that his fans are a huge part of what he represents.

A lot of people say I’m the dude that revamped it. Or gave it life, you know what I’m sayin’? So it’s dope to see that I influenced some of this and to know that I’m really impacting hip-hop; you know, I’m really contributing to hip-hop. Like my music is really getting to the people. So it’s dope to know that people are respecting of my music; you know that they’re gonna wear a hat.

It would be a rare sighting to witness Q without a bucket hat, but he says if he had to do it, a fedora would be next in line. There are no plans to switch up the head gear anytime soon, but you can look forward to more of his signature style during TDE’s upcoming world tour.

Why Your Favorite Children Movies Weren’t As Wholesome As You Thought They Were

Children’s movies are almost always well-received, but that doesn’t mean they’re wholesome gems of cinema by any means. Part of the reason children’s movies do so well is because, well, their target audience is typically too young to read or write, or ultimately, provide any critical analysis and feedback.

I had to babysit my young cousin last weekend, as my aunt and uncle were vacationing in Switzerland, and I do nothing on the weekends. Little Greg wanted to watch “The Sandlot,” and, frankly, so did I, so I picked us up some Chipotle and we kicked off our bro-day.

After watching the movie, Greg was mesmerized. His jaw was dropped the entire movie, for a second I thought he discovered his first erection; he was that fascinated by the movie’s plot. I could empathize because nobody forgets the “first time” seeing “The Sandlot,” I’d sooner forget my first time getting laid.

But as I watched the movie, now, as a 22-year-old, I kept thinking “the more poignant lesson taught here should’ve been to just knock on the door or TELL AN ADULT when you lose something in a neighbor’s yard.” But, I guess we wouldn’t have a movie, then.

After Sandlot, Lil’ Greg and I went on to watch nine more children’s movies later that day. Only, now, I had a different outlook than Greg – and my younger self, too, the first time I saw these movies.

Let me show you what I mean. Here’s what the “adult me” learned from our favorite childhood movies, after watching them in my 20s.

The Little Rascals


When considering the lack of parental supervision, it should be no shock why the little rascals were a bunch of writhing misogynists. Seriously. Where the f*ck were the parents?

I don’t care what you say, there’s no excuse for the He-Man Woman Haters Club. You’d think among all those rascals, there’d be one feminist.

While it’s impressive that a gang of 6-year-olds even had the capacity to organize a functional club with weekly meetings and positions to hold – the fact of the matter remains – the chauvinistic roots of said club are not just not chill, man. Not chill.

Toy Story


Chances are, if you have enough toys in your bedroom to foster a self-sustaining community, you’ve got enough. Clearly, Andy’s mom didn’t get the memo.

“Hmmmm what can I get Andy for his birthday? Well, his toy chest already has about 200 widely-diverse toys in it, but, honestly, there are no talking-astronauts. Yeah, that’s what I’ll get him.”

While Tim Allen’s role, as the voice of Buzz Lightyear, was imperative to the movie’s plot – I just can’t say Buzz was uber imperative to Andy’s already existing (no pun intended), and prodigious, toy collection.

Once I turned 8, my mom started buying me socks for my birthday. Straight up, Andy was spoiled as f*ck.



Who the f*ck doesn’t read the directions before playing a board game? Before throwing some popcorn in the microwave, and sitting down with my buddies for a rousing game of Jumanji, I would’ve at least SKIMMED the instructions manual.

Once I would’ve gotten to the part where it mentions YOUR LIVING ROOM TURNS INTO A JUNGLE–I probably would’ve said, eh, f*ck it and stuck with Mario Tennis.

Power Rangers (technically the TV show)


I’m confused who was handed the reins of casting for the Power Rangers. So far, the only possibilities I’ve come up with are Paula Deen and the blind racist from the Chappelle’s Show.

“All right, we need a pink ranger, find me the stupidest looking female we’ve auditioned. No, no, we can’t use him as the black ranger, he’s not nearly black enough. Yellow ranger? Give Thuy Trang a call back please, will ya?”

The Native American was the red ranger. The supremely powerful one was white. Man, you mean to tell me critics conceived an entire racial conspiracy theory over the movie “Avatar” – where there was a civilization of blue aliens – yet deemed the Power Rangers, equipped with an Asian yellow ranger, as wholesome entertainment for children?

The Parent Trap


First off, I just would like to note: The two identical twins, who were both f*cking Lindsay Lohan, went to camp together for weeks upon weeks before stumbling upon the fact that they did, indeed, exit from the same uterus – at the same time.

My question is: Did nobody on the camp premises have the keen eye to say, “Hey, you know what? Hallie and Anna look exactly alike; they could be sisters.” Like, why did they have to present matching halves to the same ripped photograph before they said, “aight, what’s the deal bitch, we’re clearly twins.”

Regardless – and sorry for the rant – this movie has a horrible message. Please, parents of the future, if you help conceive a set of twins (and then suddenly realize you want nothing to do with your partner), it’s really not a great idea to just divvy ‘em up and say, “They don’t have to know.” True, I guess they’re only biological siblings.

Harriet the Spy


"Harriet the Spy" does a wonderful job of teaching young children that being brutally honest, and keeping a diary, will guarantee you a life of sheer misery.

Harriet, who’s 11, and hardly a legitimate “spy,” keeps a notebook in the film – where she writes down all her personal observations about friends and her surroundings.

She loses the book at school, and after a colossal invasion of privacy, loses all her friends after they read her sh*t.

The resolution only comes after her nanny tells Harriet the two things she must do: lie and apologize.

This is amazing advice for the youth of the nation, and I think it’s a safe assumption to say my cheating ex-girlfriend probably loved this movie growing up.

Big Daddy


Let me set the scene. Adam Sandler, in the movie, watches as all his adult friends start moving on to bigger and better things in their lives – like generously paying salaries and pretty wives – and yearns for some commitment in his own life (which is the reason his girlfriend packs up and leaves him).

After a young boy shows up at his apartment, Sonny (Adam Sandler) gets the genius idea that, maybe, if he takes this child in, his ex will deem him responsible enough to rekindle their relationship.

THAT’S LIKE THE WORST THING EVER. Please, PLEASE, do NOT attempt to raise children as an attempt to get back at your ex! That’s a human life! It’s not like buying a dog to flaunt your soft side.

The most valuable lesson Sonny taught the boy, throughout 120 minutes of film, was how how to piss his name on a brick wall (which I still do every time I piss publicly, thanks Adam).

The Nutty Professor


"The Nutty Professor" has a real nourishing message. In essence, "The Nutty Professor" taught me that how nice you have to be is directly proportional to how good looking you are.

After the morbidly obese professor stumbles upon some magic potion that gives him the Jonah Hill treatment, he suddenly loses all ambition to be a decent human.

After consuming this potion, and losing 400-some-odd pounds in the process, the professor becomes his alter ego, Buddy Love. Buddy Love is fit, and appears to be the man, especially around women. The thing is, he’s a f*cking prick, and because he’s slim and sh*t… it doesn’t matter.

Once the potion wears off, and Buddy Love turns back into the fat professor, Eddie Murphy’s character decides, “Yeah, I’m fat again, I better start being nice.” It’s a pretty f*cking gross concept.

Space Jam


Everyone loves “Space Jam.” From the outset, the first horrible message “Space Jam” tells us is that even on ANOTHER PLANET – Michael Jordan will always beat Patrick Ewing. F*ck.

But the horrible message I would like to focus on, which everyone else has seemed to ignore for the past 20 years, is the fact the whole concept of Jordan handing out “secret stuff” in the drinks of his teammates.

It’s never okay to put sh*t in the drinks of others without telling them. Whether it’s in the basketball locker room, or the club. Sure, in Mike’s case, it worked out for the best, but this isn’t a universally pragmatic technique. Let me show you.

“Hey babe, can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure, what is this?”

“It’s some ‘secret stuff’, it’ll make you perform better”.

Yeah, that’s the post-graduate, and dating-world, equivalent of what happened in “Space Jam” – and it’s likely not going to end well.

Be Number 1 At Doing Number 2: The Foolproof Guide To Sh*tting In The Workplace

3426737689_a537541b7f_bGuide_Workplace_Elite1 Nothing stinks more than having to poop in your office bathroom. Regardless of how much you try to avoid it, how little you eat for lunch or how well-timed your bowel movements usually are, there will be a time in every person’s life when he/she succumbs to going number 2 at work. Going to the bathroom at work is not without anxiety. There’s a real fear that your coworkers will find out you are the culprit, and then they’ll really be talking sh*t about you. Because you don’t want to flush your career down the toilet, here’s a handy-dandy guide to sh*tting in the workplace: (Click to enlarge).


Top Photo Courtesy: stuartpilbrow/Flikr

What Goes Through A Girl’s Mind When She’s Dared To Do The ALS Ice Bucket Challenge

50 Thoughts That Go Through Every New Yorker’s Head On A Given Day

Living in New York City is a full-time job. Anyone who’s taken the subway in the summer, or has walked 10 blocks in the snow — all before actually stepping into the workplace — realizes that this paying “full-time job” is, in reality, far less work than his or her regular, old, daily routine.

Like with any job, sh*t can get stressful. Except, unlike a lot of other jobs, there’s no “suggestion box” for life in NYC, for you to vent your issues to. A lot of times, our own thoughts double as this hypothetical suggestion box.

These thoughts aren’t always politically correct, they aren’t always pleasant. But, hey, New York City surely isn’t “always pleasant” and it damn sure ain’t always politically correct. That’s what makes New York, well, New York.

Despite its unpleasantries, most postgraduate Long Islanders will still strive to escape their luxurious, paid for (by their parents) North Shore abode, with hopes of moving to an apartment, in Manhattan, the size of the guest bathroom.

New York City is just that alluring. Well, at least that’s what we tell people, right? See, that’s thebeauty of New York, right there. We may tell people New York is the greatest city imaginable, but after watching a taxi cab blatantly drive by you with its light on (and no one in the cab), we may think otherwise.

Our thoughts don’t always reflect our words, and for good reason. Otherwise, you would’ve told the old man who spilled your coffee on the subway this morning to buy you another one — instead of “Why, it’s all right mate.”

Some thoughts are better kept to yourself — especially in The City So Nice, They Named It Twice.Which is pretty ridiculous, in and of itself. One time would’ve sufficed. Twice is almost repetitive.Anyway, here are the 50 thoughts, I promise you, that run through the head of every New Yorker on a daily basis. Regardless of what he or she chooses to tell you.

1. Can you f*cking walk?

2. My fault ma’am, I didn’t see the cane.

3. Alright, I don’t see your cane, sir. What’s your excuse?

4. No. I don’t want your mixtape — but can you please not do this in the middle of the street, J-Trillz? I really have to get to work.

5. Do you think the girl working at Starbucks saw me steal the entire basket of Splenda and regular sugar packets?

6. Was that even a girl working at Starbucks? Could’ve been a guy… with long, bleached, ombre’d hair.

7. Wow, actually, I think it was.

8. That’s ALMOST sicker than the fact that my coffee was $5 and change.

9. What can I pretend to be doing so that I don’t make eye contact with this bum?

10. F*ck. I dropped a dollar by his feet while getting my phone out of my pocket to act like I was texting.

11. Sorry man, that’s actually my last dollar. No, I’m serious, I just came from Starbucks.

12. Um, why did that homeless guy smell better than the dude I just bought $5 Versace cologne from on Canal Street? Like, you’re selling cologne, bro.

13. I guess that’s what you get for $5 cologne.

14. I probably should’ve thought about that before buying luxury cologne from a man in a tribal gown in Chinatown.

15. I could’ve used that $5 for a Citi Bike, or a Nutz 4 Nutz. Ugh, now I’m hungry.

16. Should I buy pot for this week and try and mooch food off my boys?

17. Or should I save some money for food this week and mooch weed off my boys?

18. Is it possible to mooch both and buy Knicks tickets?

19. Knicks tickets are 150 bucks?! Nevermind.

20. Jesus, I’d probably have to sell the apartment if they actually won some games.

21. Speaking of which, Harry Potter’s cupboard in the staircase was bigger than my apartment, which I’m starving myself to pay for.

22. I mean, it’s like a f*cking holiday when I splurge on Whole Foods.

23. And even then, I save some of my organic salmon wrap for dinner tomorrow, too.

24. So, in all fairness, it’s more like Half Foods.

25. At the same time, it’s like a f*cking holiday when I splurge on whole foods, or meals, in general, for that matter.

26. Does every Long Island girl with an internship and a summer apartment in Murray Hill think she’s Carrie Bradshaw?

27. Well, she does kinda look like her… that’s unfortunate.

28. But she’s oddly proud of it, so that’s really great for her.

29. Did that homeless guy just try hailing a cab?

30. Where could he even be going?

31. I don’t have plans…

32. It’s all right, chill out self, get a grip — he’s homeless, let him have a night out.

33. I f*cking love the smell of NYC.

34. The city LITERALLY smells like hot dogs and cat piss.

35. I’m not even gonna wonder what that liquid was, which just dripped off that scaffolding onto my head.

36. At this point, piss wouldn’t even be the worst thing.

37. 1, 2, 3, Let’s, Party, More, 5th

38. I should really get that down, I’ve lived in Manhattan for the past three years.

39. Wait, actually, what the F*CK dripped on my head before?

40. Yo, these sassy European kids and their scarves on 8th avenue…

41. Oh, they go to FIT?

42. I thought he was staring me down because he was French, or something.

43. I wonder if this dude will let me a bum a cigarette if I offer him a dollar.

44. Did he actually just accept my dollar?

45. Nice man, go buy a couple gumballs with it.

46. I really hope there aren’t any karmic retributions for me after stealing this cab from that homeless guy.

47. And I’m way too lazy to calculate what a 10 percent tip is for this cab driver, but I really don’t want to just hit the 20 percent button; it’s not like was serenading me all trip.

48. F*ck it: 20 percent. Karma back up.

49. Doesn’t even matter, after laughing in that dude’s face behind the closing door of the subway — I’m going to hell anyway.

50. Actually, New York City in the summer is hell enough.