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Technology saves the day.

I love my iPhone. Seriously. It’s a little too intense for life, how much one can love an electronic device. But here we are, me waxing poetic about my love for a stupid phone.

the top five reasons I love my phone

5. instant communication.

4. the ability to stay connected to people that you normally wouldn’t.

3. the information highway.

I love being able to be on a road trip with my family and have discussions such as these:

Dad: I believe the background Book of Mormon was written by Joseph Mormon and was based on these golden plates that an angel gave to him to translate.

Me: How did he translate it?

Dad: I think he had some sort of translating stone.

Me: Also given to him by the angel?

Dad: Of course! I don’t know, I could be making this all up. Look it up. Do you have your phone? Google it.

This also lead to the information drought of 2015, when we drove to Canada and didn’t have access to the internet, only texting and phone.

2. Selfies. On selfies on selfies on selfies. I love photos. AND NOW A CAMERA IS IN MY POCKET FOR EVER. #SNAPCHAT (@LA_theGirl)

#Selfie #MirrorShot

#Selfie #MirrorShot

And.

The number one reason that I love my phone:

1. Spider just crawled on my desk and that phone killed it dead.*

*Author’s note: the next day, another spider jumped on her desk, and she did not have her phone and she crushed it with her bare head because scared of spiders and BAMF.

That angry little ghost with the camera, and other social medias.

My friends tried for weeks to get me to get a snapchat. The latest craze, and whatnot. But I was bound and determined to never ever ever use facebook twitter instagram keek gifboom snapchat.

Let’s be honest. It was really just invented to probably make sexting easier for people. 

I actually used this phrase with the 9 year old that lives across the street from me and was trying to convince me to download the thing.

“When I was your age, I didn’t have a cellphone, let alone have snapchat.”

Guys, I’m old.

I mean, maybe not in like the big picture-the universe is ancient scheme of things. But like, in my regular I’m on social media too much for my own good life, I’m fucking old.

The progression of my life from then to snapchat.

Age 17: First Digital Camera. I am mad because if I had gotten the camera sooner, I would have been able to bring a smaller purse to prom.

Age 18: AIM adds direct connection and we are able to send our pictures via instant message. My computer instantly slows down with the addition of so many JPEGs.

Age 20. First camera phone. I embarrass the guy who sends me the very first dick pic in my life when I pull the phone out in a group of friends asking what the hell it was. You really couldn’t tell what it was. IT WAS A VERY BAD QUALITY PICTURE, AND I BLAME LG.

Age 21: First camera phone with flash. I am temporarily blinded by the next dick pic because let’s be honest, those things are fucking awkward, and those early camera phone flashes were fucking bright.

Age 26: Snapchat comes into my life.

A few weeks ago when I was out with AsianDave and Alto. We were chilling at Yesterdog when this hot mess of a woman(in a dress twelve sizes too small with a BAC that was above the legal limit to walk in five inch heels) fell all over herself, and the two of them went crazy snapchatting her sorry ass.

They were not subtle at all.

They were not subtle at all.

“You need a snapchat.” Alto tells me. “We can send pictures all the time to each other. It’s like texting, but better.”

“But let’s be honest.” I respond. “Snapchat was created by people who wanted to be able to sext and not get caught. AND NOW SMALL CHILDREN ARE USING IT.”

“That’s true,” Alto agrees. “I’m actually pretty afraid every time I get a snapchat, that it’s going to be a dick pic.”

AND THAT IS WHY I WILL NEVER GET SNAPCHAT.

Cue to the next day.

TomSelleck

Yeah. I gave in.

“Here’s my stance on snapchat.” I declare, while simultaneously sending the above snapchat, another one of the menu of the restaurant we were at, and yet another one of my hard cider. “The instant I get a snapchat of a penis, I’m deleting the app. I know why they made snapchat. I refuse to have random manparts on my phone.”

“Actually,” TomSelleck tells me. “I’ve gotten all sorts of balls snapchats, from when my friends are bored.”

“…”

“…”

“…maybe it’s a guy thing.” I shrug.

BUT WAIT.

I’m snapchatting with Mystique.

Tanner Jones is my right boob, by the way.

Mystique’s boobs have names too.

the age old question

Rhetorical question, clearly.

Rhetorical question, clearly.

Back to that conversation with TomSelleck.

“Now that I think about it.” I say. “I actually get boob pictures on snapchat all the time.”

TomSelleck frowns. “I’ve never gotten a boob picture.

GChat

Dear Snapchat,

Thanks for not letting any dick pics get through to my phone*, and for showing me that men and women, we aren’t so different after all.

Love, me

*I’ll for serious delete snapchat if I get any. Don’t send me any. WEIRDOS.