Unlimited talk and text when you can't do either
Zo telling her agent to, "call Detroit, tell them bull$#!%...Yah, something."
Zoey's got a cell. That's right, she's ten months old and has her own cell phone. Why? Because she's saavy right where socially mobile and technologically fluent intersect, that's why? She's well aware that her ability to communicate with others and pull information out of thin air is tantamount to success in this day and age. She knows that if she doesn't embrace technological advancements that she's as good as left behind, that's why. Don't blame doting parents for My5, iPhone, and unlimited text and talk...blame society...blame Steve Jobs...blame your local cellular service provider. Don't hate the playa, hate the game.
While you're throwing hate around you should probably aim straight at my brother's head because the phone came from Uncle Brad and the bugger doesn't even work (the phone, not Brad). Zoey's social saavy is as much of an illusion as the rest of the cell worshipping worlds...just a little more obvious. She's cellularly delayed, meanwhile her father is a shining example of how cynicism and a Calvinistic work ethic can coexist and simultaneously offend & alienate the bulk of people he knows without the benefit of an iPhone. It's a pretty impressive feat actually. He's considering an iPhone just to make said alienation more efficient.
YOU talk to my agent...ask him yourself.
Normally I dunno what Zo's doing with her phone but she loves it. She cracks it open, pretends to talk on it, yells into it, throws it across the room...She's pretty much our own little Jerry McGuire except, you know, not as much of a turd as Tom Cruise and someone I like to hug.
On a completely unrelated note, someone needs to tell me why I would ever want to follow Lavar Burton on Twitter? That's just crazy.
1 Comments:
DIED at the Slap Shot reference! DIED!
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