Wednesday, May 17, 2006
1:42 p.m.

I don’t know what’s wrong with people. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I got a new mobile (in Britain that’s pronounced moh-bile) phone because I’m apparently a slave to technology and also because I think I’m so fucking original that I can’t bring myself to write “cell phone” like a normal person. And I’m really excited, it was shipped yesterday. And I was supposed to get it yesterday, but didn’t, due to the complete brain failure of the retarded shitbag at Verizon that couldn’t quite dig up the buried knowledge from his 5th grade education to CORRECTLY INPUT MY FUCKING SHIPPING ADDRESS. So despite my desperate attempts to resolve the descrepancy, FedEx totally shunned me and I had to wait an interminably long extra day for my new phone. It finally arrived today. And for that I am grateful and ecstatic, I can’t wait to hit the Verizon store today to activate it. And I know there are children in Nigeria choking down dirt as their only meal, and I really have no right to whine about how my new fancy “mobile” arrived a day late. Really. But I’m a selfish and egocentric twat, so I really could give a shit about the starvers in Africa. It’s called “get the fuck out of Africa and go where shit actually grows!” I know I’m going to hell for that. Eh, put it on my tab. After a certain point they’re all freebies anyway. So to continue the documentation of my shameless quest for shiny new toys, I ordered an Ipod today. This brings us to my third installation of blatant consumerism. 1) Norman the Laptop, who I love. 2) The new “mobile”. 3) Yet-to-be-named Ipod. Just to emphasize the severity of my demise, I sold my beloved PDA to a dude from craigslist to raise funds for the Ipod. I truly sicken myself. Well, I gotta go, I’m off to Fry’s for Norman’s special new designer carrier. And while I’m at it, I’m going to take him in for a ruby-encrusted power button. It’s the little things that make me happy.