At the moment, Franklin Talk is the funniest and most creative thing I do…wow that’s sad. But you should still listen to it:
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Update: Verizon Officially Kicks Cingular’s Archaic Ass
Verizon did it. They have completely and utterly redeemed themselves in my eyes. I had Verizon a while ago, and like the girl that sleeps with you on the first date, I lost total respect for them (after they slept with me on the first date). But yesterday, despite their whoredom, they’ve gone and not only equaled Cingular, but they have surpassed them. Game, set, and match.
Yesterday Verizon released a version of the Samsung P850 (available on Verizon as the…well what the fuck do I care, I can’t get it). Officially becoming the first wireless carrier in the US to carry a 3.2 mega-pixel camera-phone. On a side note, earlier this week they also ammended their contracts to state Verizon customers could upgrade phones at the new-customer price after 1 year (something Cingular has done for a while). If you’re on Verizon and haven’t had a new phone in a while, I recommend shelling out the $350 this bad boy will cost you. It is totally sweet.
Incidentally after I found this out yesterday, I decided to do some nosing to see if I could find out what Cingular’s plans are for their latest in greatest, you know, to see if they had anything in the works. Well I found out, but apparently I had predicted correctly; Cingular is releasing YET ANOTHER FUCKING RAZR. This one has iTunes and a 1.2 Mega-pixel camera. Whoop-dee-fucking-do. Thanks Cingular, but if I bought that phone I think the technology would actually be older than on my Nokia from 2004. Here’s a thought – STOP SUCKING!
My new prediction? The phone Cingular releases next is going to be a RAZR that has iTunes, a 1.2 MP camera, and some retarded, useless, celebrity backing – Bono I’m looking your way. Folks, be on the lookout for the newest RAZR featuring U2. It’ll cost an extra $50, but it will come with a bunch of shitty U2 songs on which Bono whines about poverty. The wall paper will be the Irish singer standing in front of his private jet in back of his giant mansion, holding an Ethiopian baby.
That’s the Key
Everyday of my life there is an annoyance with which I am getting greatly frustrated. Infuriated with even. I hate looking at them. I hate having them. I wish I could just throw them in the gutter. But I can’t get rid of them. No matter how hard I try or how long I think, there is simply not a way beyond this huge impasse of my life….crabs. Just kidding.
The obstacle of which I speak is my ring of keys. I hate carrying keys with me. Two keys for my apartment, one for the office, one for the mailbox. I use to have a house key on there for my parent’s house in Pennsylvania but I lost it one night.
If I had a car it might just send me surfing to the shores of insanity on a wave of madness all the while being ridiculed by lobsters and other sea-faring shellfish.
My plight, however, must be shared with at least a few other people as yesterday when returning from lunch I passed a locksmith who’s storefront sign brandished the two most poetic words I’ve ever read in my life: “Keyless Entry.”
Andy: Oh glorious day! Keyless Entry, I love you!
Locksmith: Yes! It is magical. But of course like every magic, this keyless entry holds a terrible curse!
Andy: Egads! Praytell shopkeep, what be this curse?
(The day darkens as the sun cowars behind a cloud. Shadows shroud the Locksmith’s face and in his eye there’s a devilish gleam)
Locksmith: All who install keyless entry systems in their houses must pay me a fee of $45 to install plus $100 for the system!!
(The sun quickly comes out and looks confusedly down at the Locksmith)
Andy: …um…That’s not…I mean is that really a curse? It seems to me like its just what you pay to get keyless entry installed.
Locksmith: ….I guess you’re right. You’re the only person who never ran away screaming after I mentioned a curse though.
Andy: Oh really? I mean it was a little weird but not that scary.
Locksmith: …well I mean people don’t really run away screaming after I mention the curse.
Andy: But you just sai–
Locksmith: I know what I said!
Andy: …um…
Locksmith: …Are you going to get keyless entry or not?
Andy: No, I’m too afraid of the curse.(Andy runs away, screaming)
All in all it was a pretty bizzarre encounter, but in the streets of New York you can’t really expect anything to be normal. But until I can summon up the courage, my keys will forever jab my leg as I stroll about the city in search of a non-key solution. Maybe I’ll just become homeless. Then the only key I’ll have is the key to my heart. Which I will give to my smelly, crazy, reckless, and equally homeless bride. We’ll get married in puddles of our own filth and band our fingers – a soda bottle ring for her, a twist-tie for me. It’ll be grand.