Make sure you have a constitution that can withstand a superhuman drug intake, you degenerate filth monkey. And make sure you bring along your Samoan attorney who is to drugs what competitive eating champion Takeru Kobayashi is to food. The man is a soldier.

I like the idea of a board game based around a crazed drug-induced search for the American Dream in the deserts of a place so corrupted if you dug into that sand deep enough you'd find politicians hiding with their second home and bags of dirty money.

And whoever's created it is auctioning it on eBay, so smoke a crack pipe, neck 20 tabs of LSD while freebasing a Columbian's face and get over there and get it you lazy drug fiend.

Tired of having to get the rubber out of its packet and roll it down the purple sword of passion? Say you've pulled some lady down the local bar, who's so drunk she thinks you look like the unnatural love-child of Brad Pitt and Johnny Depp, now there's no need to worry about fiddling clumsily in the dark and delaying the passionate joys of intercourse.

Because somebody has invented the spray on condom. That's right, it'll be spraying graffiti on your own back yard, or front yard. Sort of. It comes in a variety of pretty colours so why not let the lady choose, like a real gentleman. You suave Casanova you!

After the deed, if it's a flavoured one she can just swallow it down and there you go, nothing to clean up. Plus you can say you've taken her out to dinner, as well as shown her a good time. What more does a woman want from a night out?