Morning Radar: Three things we're talking about this morning
Collect them all: Mattel will launch a creepy reality series called Genuine Ken: The Search for the Great American Boyfriend next week.
Nevermind that Ken Carson had no genitals, or that he and Barbie broke up in 2004 after he'd strung his anatomically impossible girlfriend along since 1961, with no marriage in sight.
The eight real life Kens (or "Ken-testants") are just as plastic.
Take " All Ameri-Ken," 24-year-old Kash Kiefer, a bartender and model.
From his profile: "When I first heard about Genuine Ken I thought, 'Man that sounds exactly like me!' The All-American boy, the one that's done everything - gone from playing sports, to being smart, to being the role model in your community. I even had a red sports car."
Not your speed? Try Michael Pericoloso, a 25-year-old bartender, trainer and rapper who devotes most of his profile to his tiny mohawk haircut.
"We need to look good," he writes, referring to himself and the Astro-boy-like tip on his head.
"It takes me at least 45 minutes, but I'm always on time."
(The original Ken doll had hair made of felt, which fell off when it got wet.)
My vote goes to " Dreamer Ken," beefy Kurtis Taylor, 25. Interests include pro-football and steak.
"I grew up with two sisters, so Ken was always around," he writes.
What's not to like?
Facebooked: Now that the new Facebook profile is officially in effect, bloggers are offering handy ways around its worst feature: a prominent bar of photos uploaded to the top of your profile.
They include photos tagged of you by other people, who may not be as invested in the fact that you're soused or vandalizing property in most of them.
Gawker recommends the obvious: resetting your privacy settings so that only your friends can see those tagged photos.
As for the other complaints, which include bad video links and the all-important status updates buried down the page, you'll just have to get used to them, until Zuckerberg slaps it with another revamp.
Honey buns: No, it's not the worst nickname in prison, but American inmates' favourite calorie-loaded treat.
Reporter Drew Harwell takes a fascinating look at Mrs. Freshley's Grand Honey Bun, the preferred pastry of Florida's prisons, which serve up 270,000 buns to sugar-fiending inmates -- a month.
"The icing is sticky and frost white, like Elmer's Glue. The taste bears all the subtlety of a freshly licked sugar cube," writes Mr. Harwell.
And they pack a gut-busting punch: 680 calories, 51 grams of sugar and 30 grams of fat.
"Honey buns are fried dough in a bag. Honey buns meet next to none of the human body's needs and are impressively unhealthy," Mr. Harwell writes.
The pastries have become important currency among inmates, as bribes, stress relievers and substitutes for addiction. Men have killed for them, and included them as part of their last meals on death row.Report Typo/Error