Mmmm, yes. My favorite is when you’re out, and they need to quickly get some information, and they ask to borrow your phone, and as they take it, they kind of scoff, and snort derisively, “Pheeeeh, I hate these fucking things.”
Hey, you know what, asshole? Fuck you! Why don’t you just fucking walk to the airport to find out if the flight that your stupid hippie girlfriend with the dreadlocked armpit hair and the clit ring that she keeps showing off at the mere mention of the word “hood” or “sterilized” or whatever, is gonna arrive on time? And what’s she doing taking an “aer-o-plane” anyway? Shouldn’t she be arriving in a covered wagon?
And don’t even ask me to give you the directions to the party that took me all of 17 seconds to look up, download, and print out from Mapquest, because I used one of those—what? Yeah, that’s right. One of those KKKomputers.
“Oh, don’t get me started on computers,” your friend would say, which is fine, because I’m not going to let you get started. You’re an annoying, ironically trendy-while-being-anti-trend douchebag with absolutely no logical argument against cell phones or computers or anything that Ned Ludd hates. That’s right, there is not one argument that holds up to any real investigation.
“Cool it, cool it,” you say, as you tell me about some asshole that was yapping on his cell phone at the museum or some funeral or his first threesome. OK, great point. He gets on our nerves, too.
But what about those of us that have to use one to communicate an urgent message? What about you? What if you’re in incredible pain after being assaulted? What if you’re sitting there about to die from internal bleeding and you reach out to me and ask me for my phone? Huh? Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t have my phone. It’s gone. I shoved it up your ass.
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