Finish reading PSA’s of the Future
A mind-blowing chart about your growing mind.
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Do you remember me? Do you remember the way you used to hold me? The way you used to make me feel needed? The way you used to pay $49.99 a month to whisper sweet nothings into my ear for 600 minutes plus 50 whenever minutes? Do you remember me, your Nokia 3310?
Incase you can’t recall, it was a time before texts. It was a time before cameras, video, and a time before color screens. A black and white world. Simple. You eat a tiny square and the snake grows one tiny square longer. No Temple Run. No Angry Birds. No 4 inch screens to play it all on. It was as cut and dry as an 8-bit ringtone. You needed me and I needed you.
I still remember how it happened, too. Don’t you? In the beginning the communication was great. We both wanted it. And that’s how it works. It’s mutual. But then little by little you grew distant. The broken phone calls. The “I-can’t-hear-yous”. The “we’re-breaking-ups,” as if the miscommunication was my fault. Sure, you caught me roaming that one summer we left the service area, but in hind-sight it’s so easy to see it was just the provider (ha! Isn’t that always how it goes?).
But soon enough the broken calls became less and less. You wanted something that “worked”. And just like that you cast me aside. Me. Your go-to-gal. Your best friend. Your Nokia 3310! You cast me aside and you made me feel unwanted—helpless and out of service. Until one day you came home with someone else. Something else. The Motorola Razr.
Sure, you felt that initial guilt. The detachment and fear of something new. After all, you were so used to my push keyboard and bulky frame. I mean, why would you want something else? But you did. She was thin and I was not. She was sleek. A new slender design. And of course, she could flip. And you liked that, no matter what you said. You knew you liked it. I knew you liked it. And it didn’t make anything any easier.
Jokes on her though, right? Because how long did that one last? Twelve? Eighteen months? And what did you say it was? More miscommunication? Not enough space? Or was it just a taste for something new? Pretty soon you cast aside Ol’ Razr to satiate your hunger with something sweeter. The LG Chocolate KG800. Although, that didn’t last too long either. Remind me. What came next? Was it the BlackBerry? Or was it the BlackBerry Storm? The Bold? The Curve 8900? And at what point did you finally realize a new adjective wouldn’t fix that dying relationship?
And now for the new girl. I said I wouldn’t, but I can’t resist. The way you flaunt her around. Show her off. Touch her. Grope her. Finger her screen. What’s her name? Sophie? Jaclyn? iPhone 5s? And I think we all know what the “s” stands for. You can’t even go to the bathroom without her! You two are inseparable! And it makes me sick. You make me sick. Because you know what? It’s only a matter of time and we both know it. It’s not the miscommunication. It’s not the storage space, the service provider or whatever else you’ve blamed it on. No, it’s you. It’s you and your undying need to feed from the hand of consumerist America. And for that I pity you.
So here I sit. Covered in dust. Biding my time between a sack of soggy Pogs and a lost container of Crazy Bones. Idle. Silently waiting for the call of opportunity. And when opportunity finally rings, who will pick up? Will it be the sleek design of the Motorola Razr? How about the sweet new Chocolate? One of the many forgotten BlackBerrys? The iPhone with her brittle glass exterior? Or will it be the one who was built to last? The one who once reigned as queen of the cell phones. The one you left for dead. Me. Your Nokia 3310.
These stock photos are supposed to capture the kind of anger you can only feel when you fight with someone you deeply love. Instead they depict people with soulless eyes and nonsense props existing in a white void. You get the impression that these people have never been in a fight before, which may be okay if that means more of these wonderfully weird stock photos.
We’re strong, simple people. We enjoy the simple pleasures: Flannel, dirty gloves, throwing lumber onto truckbeds in slow-mo, leaning on fences, you name it. MAN do we love leaning on fences. Wood fences, wire fences — you give us a fence, we’ll lean the fuck on it.
Out here, it’s always sunrise or sunset. Are there other times in the day? We don’t know. And frankly, we don’t want to know. We’re simple like that. All we know is that this lumber has to go from here to somewhere else, and it’s up to us to move it. Also there’s horses out here so shut those greasy gates and let’s peel out into the mud.
Us? We’re all about family. When we’re not about lumber. Which is often. But we’ll swing by the son’s Little League game and rub his head when his team loses, then swing by the gal’s Little League game and rub her head when her team loses. Just let em know that it’s all gonna be ok because we love them, and we’ll get that lumber where it needs to go.
But we’re not afraid to let loose every now and then! Sometimes we go to the diner where the way-too-attractive waitress pours us coffee and gives us broad smiles. She may look like a model but she’s got flannel on and never isn’t turning around with a coffee pot so she’s one of us.
We live on a porch. Quiet. Homely. Not much call for buildings in our town — we’re not really into ‘frills’ — just give us a porch and some iced tea pitchers with the sun shining through them and we’re as happy as a pig in gloves leaning on a fence.
At night, we just admire the stars. LOVE those stars. Who needs a television when you got stars? Not us, that’s who.
My son points up at the stars as if to say “wow!” I smile. I am glad my son enjoys the stars. At least one kid gets that you don’t need ‘video games’ when you have stars. They’re like our own little tiny, glowing fences in the sky for our eyes to lean on. Truly magical.
In conclusion, I love this country.
My wife is a truck made of fences.
Movie Scientists love to talk about how human beings only use 10% of our brain’s capabilities, but have you ever wondered what the other 90% would be used for? Here’s our best guesses at the mental abilities humans will hopefully be able to unlock in the near future.
Finish reading What the Other 90% of Our Brains Is ACTUALLY Used For
All the warning signs are there.
Together, they are truly the highest holiday.
Finish reading 6 Reasons Easter and 420 Are Actually the Same Holiday
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"Mmm! Why don’t I get bananas more often?"