Awwww yeah, those suckers at the TSA are going to let us take knives on planes again. Pocket knives are the best. Get one. Here are some suggestions—all plane-legal as of April 25th.

Buck Chairman Series Companion

The two-blade craft knife, aka pen knife, is a classic. A larger workhorse blade paired with a smaller one that's great for detail work—like fine whittling or cleaning your nails. I have one like this, and I carry it every day. $33 [Amazon]

Swiss Army Money Clip Knife

The undisputed classic, with a money clip on back. $34 [Amazon]

Pulltap Double-Hinge Corkscrew

Any waiter will tell you that the double-pull corkscrew is king of the wine openers. What's that you say? That's not a knife and it doesn't count? Tell it to your Swiss dream girl, sitting impatiently on an Alpine hillside as you try to open a bottle of wine with a shoe. Let's just take a moment and be thankful that the airport goons won't be confiscating these anymore. $7 [Amazon]

Leatherman Style

Even the teeniest Leatherman is no wimp. It packs a TSA-legal blade, scissors, nail file (for breaking out of airport jail), and tweezers. And it's soooo cute! $15 [Amazon]

Leatherman Squirt CS4

Need a little more than just a blade and some tweezers? Leatherman's Squirt PS4 is the company's smallest plier-packing tool. A great travel pal. $25 [Amazon]

Kershaw Rainbow Chive

OMG look at this knife! It's a crazy rainbow shiv! The crazy color is actually a result of the super durable titanium dioxide coating, which makes the blade resistant to scratches and stains. So it'll always look like this. Oh, and it uses Kershaw's wicked assisted opening mechanism, which snaps the blade open faster than whoa. You kinda can't believe it's legal. In fact, a disclaimer: Couldn't find exact specs on this thing's blade width, so we're not 100-percent certain you'll legally be able to take this thing on a plane. The blade is 1 15/16 long, which means it's probably skinny enough, but please measure before you try to board a jet. $55 [Amazon]

Swisscard Lite

If you don't have an American Express card, this could be the most useful thing in your wallet. The Swisscard Lite won a Red Dot design award, and you can see why. There's a knife, scissors, screwdriver, pen, tweezers (of course), and a flashlight packed into an itty bitty thing that fits in a credit card slot. Genius. One word of caution: If you're a wallet-in-the-back-pocket type, you will break this thing (like I did). Keep it in your bag or something. Still worth it. $48 [Amazon]

Gerber Aritfact

It is entirely possible that the TSA's boxcutter prohibition will make this knife a no-no, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't take it on a plane—its blade is removable, so if the agent gives you any guff, just take the blade off and throw it out. The artifact uses standard #11 hobby knife blades, so you can just pick up a replacement at any art supply store. Even without the cutting edge, this thing is incredibly useful, with a bottle opener, pry bar, bottle opener, bit drivers, bottle opener... $8 [Amazon]

Schrade Mighty Mite

It is not easy to find a lock-blade knife that meets the TSA's specs—mostly it's the blade width that's the problem—but the Mighty Mite does. Real talk: This is not a connoisseur-quality knife. It's made out of cheap steel and plastic. But for a knife this small—and cheap!—does it really matter? For opening packages, whittling sticks, and various other small-blade tasks, you'll probably just be happy this little guy's blade stays locked open and won't close on your fingers. $12 [Amazon]

You know what? It's hard to find a decent knife that isn't prohibited by the TSA. Help us out in the discussion?

Update: I am an idiot. Locking blades not allowed, so I took out the Chive and the Mighty Mite. Derp. I wonder if the Swisscard will be allowed, given that, technically, it's a fixed blade.

The Air Jordan XX8 (just got 'em in today). Pimped by the mighty Spike Lee. Inspired by James Bond. Bolstered with carbon fiber plates: a purple eyescar sheathed in some kind of snakeskin-meets-moonscape-meets-pixelcamo footcondom. This has gotta be the ugliest shoe ever made. Amirite?

After some of the best years of my life, I'm leaving Gizmodo. I love this staff like family, but it's time for me to move on. We're going to need a new fearless leader. Job requirements:

• At least TK years experience in design and tech journalism.
• You work like TK [wild animal].
• You know what TK means.
• You are not a wuss.
• You are located in New York.
• A creative mind that will do amazing things with Kinja, our badass new publishing platform that lets you almost touch gadgets and discuss any aspect of an image.
• The best, most ferocious crew on The Internet doesn't chew you up and spit you out like unpopped corn.
• As always, no attachments. Contact Joel Johnson—if you dare.

A note to our readers: I love you. I'll be in the comments to talk it out.

Your Tools

These are your weapons: A terrible watering can (sorry—it gets everywhere, so you really have to pour carefully, and tilt back slowly), "Romeo" plant food, and some measuring spoons. Put one teaspoon of "Romeo" in the can, fill it to the one-gallon mark, and you're ready to feed.

The First Rubber Plant

The first plant you will encounter on your way out of the kitchen is this guy, sitting up on a janked-out bookshelf in the nook between the couch and the chair. It gets just a decent watering, not a deluge—enough to get the soil moist. I usually water for about a 3-count.

Jade Plant on the Bookshelf

On the far side of the bed is a bookshelf. On the bookshelf are two plants and some books. Do not water the books.

This jade plant is probably going to die. I clearly don't know what the fuck to do with it. Maybe don't water it? Maybe do? I usually give it a good soaking once a week, per my mother's instructions: pour water in until there's about an inch standing on top; it'll filter down. Like I said, though, thing is on its last legs, so feel free to experiment.

Aloe on the Bookshelf

You will not have to water the aloe unless I stay in Argenina for an extra week. Which might happen. I might stay there forever, if the stories about the steaks are true. If that happens, water the aloe every three weeks, and enjoy its company. When They come for my things, tell them the plant is yours. It's the year-old pup of a plant I've had since I was 13.

Lemon! Lemon! Lemon! Lemon!

Everything else could die. I wouldn't care, as long as the Lemon Tree made it. Just get the surface of the soil wet, and the Lemon Tree will be happy. The Lemon Tree already is happy, because you are coming to visit. If you wanted to talk to the Lemon Tree, that would be cool too. It likes NPR, should you decide to play the radio.

The Second Rubber Plant

You're looking at the Lemon Tree (can't blame you). Look left. There, tucked away in the corner in a stupid pink pot that came with the apartment, is the second rubber plant. Water it just like the other one: About a 3-count. 

And that's it. Thank you so much for watering my plants. Please help yourself to anything in the fridge, liquor cabinet, etc. Watch some TV—we have all of the channels. (Just hit "watch dish" on the remote's touchscreen; then some stupid interstitial screen will show up on the TV, which you get past by pushing the OK button on the remote. It's the center of the d-pad.)

See you soon!