Once again, this probably has typos.
The first thing I did when I got my smartphone was look at porn. I don’t usually look at porn, though most people think I do. I’ll check out some Solo Girl every couple of months, but that’s about it. Anyway, I was at the store with my awesome mom and my awesome girlfriend. The GF was helping me pick it out and shit because she knows about those things. My mom was there so I could get off her plan, like the grown ass man I was becoming. Baby steps, so to speak. Finally, the dude transferred my numbers and shit to my new phone and handed it to me. “It’s ready to go?” I asked. “Yep,” he said. I immediately pulled up the internet and went to my favorite porn site. Within nanoseconds, there were naked chicks on my phone. Some were at the pool. Some were on couches. One chick was about to have her pussy eaten on the kitchen counter. Fuck. Ing. Awesome!
You may be thinking to yourself, If this dude isn’t into porn, why the fuck did he go to a porn site first? Why didn’t he go to facebook or some gay shit like that? The answer is simple: I thought some law or morality clause with my phone company or some shit like that would prevent my new smartphone from going to porn sites. I felt like I got away with something. I mean, you never hear about people looking at porn on their phones—at least I don’t hear about those people. Goddamn, it felt good. I mean, fucking seriously good, like driving by yourself the first time. Holy shit, I’m actually allowed to do this. Unlike driving though, I had no desire to keep doing it, unless of course, there was some sort of Solo Girl Porn Emergency, which is probably not very likely.
Was I talking about pooping? Oh yeah…Pretty soon, I was doing all sorts of shit with my new phone. I downloaded all the apps and whatnot. I found myself looking up the French word for “asshole” while I was in line at Whataburger, for fuck’s sake. At the time, it seemed like I had to know how to call someone an asshole in French immediately. Conard. I also did all the other annoying shit that I hate people for. Facebook and email. Games with cartoon characters. I’d avoided the phone for as long as I could because I like to pretend I’m a Luddite and too cool for all that shit. Two days in, I was addicted.
Shit, I was supposed to be writing about poop. Pre-smartphone, my buddy, SB, and I texted each other from strange locations while pooping. “Pooping outside in a thunderstorm RIGHT NOW.” “Pooping at the Ballpark in Arlington RIGHT NOW.” “Pooping at work with a creeper looking over the stall wall at me RIGHT NOW.” It was fun as hell, and I would go as far as to say…special. The smartphone increased the power, beauty, and complexity of these fecal communications. I made us a twitter accout: @poopingRIGHTNOW #poopSTRONG. We also started to take pictures and add little characters, dialogue, and pictures of flowers. We weren’t taking pics of the actual shits. Just the floor with our feet in the shot or maybe an interesting toilet paper roll. Pretty soon, we let my fabulous GF in the club—though we were still hiding our activities from SB’s wife. I even had special poopSTRONG bracelets made. A year or so in, I upped the game to recording the poops coming out RIGHT THEN. That was a total game-changer. But the good times couldn’t last forever.
I started playing games and checking facebook and all sorts of other shit while taking shits. My legs would go numb. One time, I got so engrossed in crafting a sweet tweet that I forgot to wipe. Fucking awful. I might have even developed a tiny hemorrhoid. Jesus! Another time, peeing, I almost dropped my phone in the commode. There’s a good reason there is no bracelets that say peeingRIGHTNOW.
You may be wondering, What’s the point? The point is that it’s all fun and games til you grow a cluster of hemorrhoids and lose a leg.