Heeeeey.  Thanks for picking up!  I know how much you hate it when people call and don’t leave a message (and God-forbid, from a number you don’t recognize)–how many times have I heard you call back and say something ridiculous like, “Who is this?  Did someone from this number call me??”  But I guess you know the joke’s on you since it’s usually the LA Zoo asking for money or someone who speaks only Spanish and keeps calling you, “Jeffe.”

But I digress.

I just wanted to say, from the depths of my circuitry, thank you.  Really.  What a wonderful ride it’s been this past year.  Thanks for refusing to buy me a protective case because “19.99 is bullshit for a piece of plastic,” even though you drop me no less than twice a day, typically onto something hard.  Thanks for jogging with me regularly and leaving me coated with a delectable sheen of sweaty salt all day–I love being able to actually see the swirls in your greasy fingerprints.

Oh, and let me just say that I REALLY appreciate all the name-calling.  Very creative!  Some might say “you cocksucking piece of shit” is a little harsh, especially when it’s really not my fault that 99% of your calls get dropped, or that “assface” just seems like an odd thing to call your phone.  I must admit, though, “iMotherfucker” did make me chuckle that time.

Thanks for loading me up with a bunch of crappy apps you never use, and then bitching about not being able to find the 4 that you do.  Thanks, too, for leaving me with your 2-year-old when you’re trying to socialize with other adults, or work, or whatever–that was a blast being fought over by a bunch of small children at your daughter’s birthday party when you left YouTube open (no danger there).  Some parents might say, “nooo, this isn’t a toy,” but not you, Stew.  Not you.

Thanks for not powering me down once between August and January and then calling tech support to ask why I was “acting weird” and “doing crazy things,” and for complaining about how slow I am.  I won’t throw it in your face that you bought me refurbished for like $5 because you’re too cheap to stay current with smartphone technology, even though you work in media and rely on me 24/7.

I will say now, though, that it has been fun getting back at you.  All those ass-dials?  You’re welcome.  Continually autocorrecting the word “so” to the word “do,” or “Joanna” to “Johor”?  You should see your face!  Classic.  Oh, and while we’re being honest here, you never did anything wrong on those updates when you lost your last backup and had to re-enter all your contacts by hand.  Haha!

Alas, it was probably best that you thought sticking me in the waistband of your boxers was a safe way to carry a $200+ mini-computer, and allowed me to slip into the toilet when you were brushing your teeth this morning.  I know, I know–you’d think only 2 seconds of being fully submerged in urine would be something I’d be designed to handle.  But let’s just call this what it is: a time to go our separate ways.

So take my sim card, maybe the last 400 photos & videos of your children you shot but forgot to download if I still have them when I dry out, and go buy yourself a factory-fresh 4s.  I’ll be hanging with the Blackberrys and your pager from 1997 if you need me.



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