I am very manly. I’m not afraid of anything. I drove a Mustang convertible to the top of Mauna Kea against the advice of rangers, I’ve driven a race car around the tri-oval at Pocono Raceway, and I’ve snapped a picture of Russel Brand and Jennifer Garner while walking backwards and having a large bodyguard shove me aside. But I’m also very sensitive and like to pamper myself with little gadget/tools that are fun and seem to make my life easier in some dorky way. And that’s why I have a Bodum Milk Frother. I realize that it doesn’t compare to going to East Anatolia, Turkey for a pedicure and having Garra rufa feed οn the dead skins cells οn my feet, but it’s something.
Of course I don’t use it for actually frothing milk. I lazily use it to stir my coffee or chocolate milk. I think this is the one I have. It’s like $13. That’s not an affiliate link.
It’s a powerful little bugger and the cyclone of power can get away from you and splash coffee all over the counter. That’s why it should only be in the hands of someone who has the touch. You’ve got to feather this thing the way you feather the thumb throttle on a Honda 200SX while you’re blasting across sand dunes in Brooksville, FL. You need to treat the Bodum as a fine-tuned machine the way Brock Glover treated his 125cc Yamaha at the 1977 Rabbit Run Trans-AMA. You need to learn it’s intricacies like how after killing the swirl in mid-air, a black vertical line will appear and you have to move along the line and when the explosion closes you get to the secret screen to see Howard Scott Warshaw’s initials, whoa, wait, that’s the easter egg in Yar’s Revenge. Well anyway, you get the picture.
OK boys, now go froth up your own milk.