After only a couple of days of talking to me, I can tell when they’re so close to telling me they love me, or breaking up with their girlfriend, or will do anything to gain my approval. But, only when I text, or IM, or message them, not see and speak to them everyday do they feel like this. Why doesn’t anyone in real life fall in love with me like all the phantoms on the other side of the computer do?
You can have your fancy iPhones. I’ll stick with my Motorola POS800. Sure, you have fancy “apps” and a “legible screen” and a “functioning phone” but can you match this feature set?
- Retractable antenna. By that, I mean the antenna broke off, resulting in a slimmer, more aerodynamic design.
- Free dance party light show. Lately, when I plug the phone into its charger, instead of charging the battery it goes into an endless loop of shutting off, turning on, playing random noises and then shutting off and on again. Who needs a disco ball when you have a possessed phone?!
- Personal protection. Remember how I mentioned that the antenna broke? Well, it’s been replaced by a piece of jagged plastic that can be used as a makeshift shiv in emergency situations. How many smartphone owners can stab a man with their phone? I’ll tell you. None.
- Queued text messaging. Want to send a text message that won’t transmit for several hours, even days? This phone’s got you covered. You’ll be getting replies like this in no time: Dude. My birthday was two weeks ago. Thanks, though.
- Talking pants. When it’s in your pocket, the phone will occasionally activate its hands-free mode for no reason. Not only do you get a free pair of talking pants, but you also get an unlimited amout of frightened looks from strangers when a robotic woman’s voice, originating roughly from your crotch starts declaring, “SAY A COMMAND. SAY A COMMAND.”
- Transformer mode. Not only did the antenna pop off, but the entire phone seems to be coming apart in every way possible. Some would assume the phone is flimsy pile of crap and about to break in half. But, I’m holding out hope that it’s simply in the process of “transformering” into something more useful, like a sports car or a helicopter. Or another phone that works.
So, yeah. Eat it iPhone owners. I bet you’re jealous. I know I would be.
Bring him back, Baby…
Bring him back home.
I don’t want to lose him, and I don’t want him alone.
It’s not safe now,
it never will be.
Bring him back, Baby,
and make sure he can still breathe.
Bring me back information I want to hear;
I don’t want to fear,
what I know is true.
Baby, if you’ve done this…
I’ll always remember you.
I hate you.
You’ve made it worse;
everything, worse.
But I can’t blame you,
when we know who’s at fault.
I’m sorry, but, Kacypreee…
I love you, girl,
but… look what you’ve done.
Mind, stop havin’ your fun. Make some real choices.
Don’t make the one he has taken, Mind. Please.
Bring him back to me,
and make
sure that
he can
still
breathe.
