I finally broke down and purchased myself an ipod to use at the gym. I've given so many of those fuckers away as gifts, I would have thought Apple would at least thrown me one.
Yeah... but no.
However, they did allow me to select two free plastic pieces of shit cases so that made me happy. Until they admitted that they were running some kind of promotion and everyone got those.
My ipod that costs half a mortgage came in a little tiny box with little tiny instructions. It didn't really matter how big the instructions were anyway. I couldn't figure the fucker out even if they were written specifically for me.
"Chris, plug that little white thingumabob into the front of the computer with the big sticky saying plug in HERE."
I still would have fucked it up.
In my many years on this earth, I have gotten to know myself a little bit and don't even attempt to try to install, program or even open packages with sharp instruments. I immediately turned the little box over to my son.
"Put music on this".
Three minutes later my entire itunes collection was on it along with a couple of songs he had stolen from somewhere that he thought I would like.
That's my kid.
So now I have this little rectangle thing that I need to figure out how to work. Seeing I received a satellite radio for Christmas that I have yet to learn how to turn on, I thought I might be in trouble.
It was then I was informed by my wonderful son that the headphones that came with the ipod suck duck dick.
That is also my kid.
Don't worry, he says, he'll send me a link of what I need.
Which costs the other half of that mortgage payment.
I decide to stick with the duck dick ones and psyche myself up for a lesson.
"OK, Mom, see this wheel?"
"The wheel in the middle of the ipod," he said patiently.
"No? Right here, this white round thing," he said with a tad less patience.
"That is NOT a wheel, it is a white circle and if you are going to complicate this with all that technology jargon, just stop now," I snapped.
I wonder where I can get a Walkman?