Copyright The Quipping Queen 2005.
THE TYRANNY OF BLACKBERRIES, CELLPHONES & LAPTOPS --Or, when will God of Chaos, Calamity & Cataclysm strike again! --
Everywhere you go these days, chaos reigns disguised as ďstate of art wireless technologyĒ. It seems that happiness has been reduced to having a newfangled whatchamacallit that does absolutely everything but clean kitchen sink.
Speaking of scruffy sculleries, your best bet would be to a visit your local "Tabernacle of Tetrachloride" and request a private audience with "Wizard of Washbasins". Failing that, consult "The Diva of Drudgery" living next door for quick answers to western world's biggest household conundrums!
Sadly, my days as a professional cherry-picker in Peach Bottom, Virginia are over ...which brings me in a round about way to my favorite comfort food ..."passion fruit" and plums. Besides consuming far too many succulent seeds for my own good, I also enjoy occasional shopping-spree for trendy ďfruit of loomĒ drawers in "Big Apple". And frankly, that doesnít leave me much spare time to pursue happiness unless you count such delightful diversions such as a fruitless game of tiddlywinks or a toe-wrestling tournament in "Old Country".
As for those backlit, "Bluetooth" byters euphemistically called ďBlackBerriesĒ, they do not impress me in least. For one thing these "robust" packages of tutti-fruit technology are worth a king's ransom. And for another, hanging them on your lapel makes you look like a dork, or worse yet a loon. So, unless you enjoy low-impact digital workouts with your thumb and index fingerÖtake my humble advice, be a dweeb and forget about them!
Celluar telephones, smallest of these dastardly digital devices, are a melodious menace to mankind. Besides making their owners look divinely self-important in a world of wannabes and winners, they also lurk surruptitiously about in bottom of pockets, packsacks, and purses offering melodrama at its best for bystanders. Needless to say, anything that vibrates, sings, and is capable of snapping photos when you least expect should never be operated by anyone who's never been properly potty-trained.