I have a fancy shmancy phone. I love it. And I mean LOVE it, with angels singing, birds chirping, people awing type of love. But I also have butterfingers. I spill things too, most of the time on myself at very inappropriate times. Today while attempting to do a mundane task, such as dial, I dropped it. On the very hard tile floor in the kitchen (you've seen it covered in trash thanks to the dog.) Fancy Shmancy phone was not pleased, it shattered the corner of it, all spider webby. Awful. I wanted to cry. I was speaking to my Dad on the phone about a rather *important* topic and was only thinking "my poor toy is defiled. DEFILED. UGLY. It works, but it is ugly. And really it is only a matter of time before the poor pieces start falling out." It is hard for me to understand this relationship I have developed with this phone. But I am Linus and it is my blanket. I am going to go to the happy fruit store and see what the genius there can do for me besides "hows about spending another obscene amount and wait there is a new and better one coming out soon." Maybe this is a good thing, I can use the phone sparingly instead of reading blogs on it, playing with itunes, looking up craziness on youtube, reading my email, looking at my, ahem, stocks, and checking the time and temperature in London, Singapore, Frankfurt, and, of course, Orlando ALL DAY LONG. But my material obsession deserves a song, and here it is:
and you thought i was strange before.