Tech Eye: Throw away the key

As in Uncle Tattooed Tech Eye's School for Future Convicts, our parents liked us to start out young and we could barely crawl before we felt the clammy constrictive, if oddly comforting feel of a bit of chain around the ankle. While Mother was off on her Saturday night sojourns to the local gin factory, it was often cheaper to chain us to the radiator than pay a babysitter (much like Adam Smith, Mother was a great economist). When we learned how to pick locks from said Uncle Body Art, a clever system of ropes, pulleys and cunning trapdoors kept us on the right side of the front door so Mother could continue her nocturnal stumbling in peace.

Sister was another one who loved her constriction, and one look at the living-room walls replete with all manner of objects for binding and bonding told you she was an expert. Apparently the local villagers told us her rates were quite good too, which we never understood, though we did suspect the influence of Mother the economist here.

Sobriety has never been one of our strong points and we have occasionally graced a cell or two after an evening's imbibing. Although many had the charm of a young Tom Jones, some were less than satisfactory, meaning we have refused to learn our lessons and will keep coming back for more.

The Oculas is an entirely different proposition, however, and one which we would happily lock ourselves up in. The company behind it will build and design the pod to your specifications, meaning you can fit it out with all manner of TVs, screens, consoles and computers, lights, bells, whistles, a killer sound system and heated massaging seats (we couldn't find the cupholder though). At around $45,000 (zł.135,000), we're not quite sure what the advantage is over, say, an actual house, and for the moment we'll stick to our castle made of sofa cushions. But, as strangers with bags of sweets often found out about us in our youth, we're open to persuasion.