My trophy wife
In this holiday season, if you plan to give or receive a cellular telephone, allow me to recommend that you neither give nor request a Motorola RAZR.
Yes, it does look really cool. And yes, people will be envious of you. But that's only because your pride won't allow you to reveal how much you're suffering inside.
You see, the Motorola RAZR is the telephonic equivalent of a trophy wife: slim, pretty, and retarded.
I never used to have difficulty getting reception at work or in my apartment , but now there are big areas of both locations where the RAZR refuses to do the network dance. What's more, the text recognition software it comes with doesn't even put spaces after completed words, making texting a total nightmare. If my old, crappy, half-destroyed old phone hadn't been unsubscribed from the network entirely, I'd be tempted to go back to it.
At least the RAZR still makes me look cool. I think I'll go pretend to talk on it ostentatiously in front of my old phone.
posted by Dave Hughes @ 6:54 PM
3 Comments:
The razr is the embodyment of punishment for being a slave to fashion. The coolness of the device is merely superficial. What lurks beneath is just another crappy cell phone.
Pretty much, yes. I can at least say that it dropped on my out of thin air from my parents, and was a lovely gift if only because it was pretty.
You've been commenting a lot - do I know you, or have you arrived out of the ether? In any case, thanks for reading.
Ya gotta love parents' gifts, even if it falls short of being the blessing they intended. They meant well, and those damn razrs aren't cheap, either.
Ummm, yes, we've met before, and not just on the internet. :)
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