Things I’d Rather Do Instead of Wait In Line for the iPhone 6



Get ready, world!

The new iPhone is coming out September 19, and your wallet is going to slap you in the face and punch you in the groin until you pee out all your money and you’re left with nothing but a thin metal device that fits in your back pocket and can dial numbers and text just like your old phone could.

But wait!  There’s more!

It has the INTERNET! Oh, the other iPhones have the internet?

I’m confused.

I was reading this article on Mashable about the lines that formed due to the iPhone 5s/c being released last year.  Kids, and in some cases, parents (which is more embarrassing), waited in line and slept overnight just so they can pay two-hundred dollars and probably not even use an upgrade for a phone that will be outdated in about six months.

Anyways, in lieu of the downward spiral in which consumer America is headed, I’ve compiled a list of things I would rather do instead of spending the night sleeping next to the resident homeless man on the city sidewalks.

Things I’d Rather Do Instead of Wait In Line for the iPhone 6:

  1. Actually sleep in a bed. I have to believe that sleeping on a concrete sidewalk next to a bunch of people who are overly-excited about technology, and haven’t showered, has to be what purgatory feels like. I’m also almost certain there will be chants and clapping in unison. No thank you. PS – don’t you work?
  2. Watch All Eight Harry Potter Movies. And honestly, I may not even have enough time for all of them.  I think the first person got in line last year around 7pm the night before.  The stores opened at 8am, making the total time voluntarily spent outdoors clocks in around thirteen hours.  Each of the Harry Potter movies run between two and a half to three hours, so thats only about half the series.  But hey, by the time I watched all eight movies in succession, the new iPhone will be out and I’ll be ready for human contact again. Bonus.
  3.  Read a car manual.  Some people like to camp in anticipation, I’m just more partial to sleeping in a temperature controlled apartment, not having to worry that someone’s going to jack my sidewalk block because I momentarily dozed off. So thanks, but I’ll take laying on my pillow-top mattress reading my Jetta’s manual instead.
  4. Get in line at at the DMV.  You know if that many people are waiting in line for an iPhone, there has to be at least half those people aren’t pre-camping out at the DMV waiting to register their cars.  Knowledge.
  5. Make an entire Thanksgiving meal.  I’d rather sit with a baster and play babysitter to a 26lb turkey making sure it’s cooked to perfection. At least there’s food involved.
  6. Complain about my current iPhone. By making a firm commitment to not buy the new iPhone, this gives me ample opportunities to complain about my current phone every chance I get.
  7. Go grocery shopping right before a natural disaster.  At least you’re semi-guaranteed to get at least one of the things you came for at the grocery store. If you are the loser that shows up at 9pm for an 8am opening, you don’t have a shot in hell.  Time to go home and pop in some of those Harry Potter DVDs, cause you lost. I may not have milk or canned goods, but I can at least get some Nilla Wafers and perishables before you get your iPhone.

Do I envy the people who will waste a night of precious, comfortable sleep to get it? No.

Am I bitter I won’t have the new iPhone? Absolutely.

But, I will bet you ten dollars that the people who wait in line for this phone are the same people that had those rechargeable Power Wheels drag racing down the street, one-upping the entire neighborhood.

I hate your commitment. But I respect your hustle.


Are you excited for the new iPhone?

ATTENTION: Pumpkins Are Using Jedi Mind Tricks On All Of Us

A pumpkin after my own heart.

A pumpkin after my own heart.

Summer is practically synonymous with sunscreen, ice cream, and barbecues.  I mean, I can already smell the bbq bacon cheeseburger coming fresh off the charcoal grill and it’s not because I am eating a cheeseburger at 10am.

Or it is, the jury is still out.

With each season, there is a specific scent we associate with it.  Normally I’m all for it, because scents mean that there is food somewhere in the vicinity, and that’s never a bad thing.

But I have a bone to pick with one particular scent/flavor/permeation that really just makes me angry, because it’s trying to be the favorite, and I learned in kindergarten that being the teacher’s pet meant getting special treatment, and then everyone hates you.

I’m about to drop some high voltage knowledge bombs about this goddamn pumpkin spice obsession.

I’m not going to say I hate it, because hate is a word I reserve for push button faucets and people who talk in elevators.

I’m just not all up in pumpkin’s face asking it to hang out with me.  I don’t let it have a special season, because that’s how egos grow, and I need pumpkins to know their place in this world.

Frankly, I just think that pumpkins are jedi mind tricking us all into thinking we NEED them in our lives, creating demand during the fall solstice.  Whoever is marketing for the pumpkins of the world, reveal yourself!  I need you on my team, you could probably take this here blog to new heights and help me achieve my dream of being married to Danny McBride and Jimmy Fallon at the same time. 

Seasonal privileges are for treats that make you feel like you’re going to vomit if you so much as look at another piece.  Like candy corn. It’s a scientific law that candy corn has to get the hell out of your life by October’s end, because you start to see all foods in a tri-color hierarchy of white, yellow, and orange.

Let me make this perfectly clear, there are rules set in place that have been there for hundreds of years.  They were rules created by the bromagnons and the bromosapiens to protect our taste buds from over-indulgence.

In order to be a seasonal treat, you have to follow a strict criteria, which goes as follows:

1. It must be a treat that is solely used or consumed during a specific season.

ie. candy canes, candy corns, peeps, eggnog.

2. You must want to vomit after over-consumption of said treat.

Ever tried drinking Eggnog after December? It’s almost impossible. It’s at this time you may actually realize that it doesn’t even taste that good to begin with, and you’ll regret all of it.  Eggnog = regret. Remember that.

3. You can’t be a gourd.

Plain and simple, they are a decorative item in a cornucopia. You can’t have your own season if you’re part of a fucking cornucopia.

4. As  a seasonal treat, you have to have absolutely no value to the outside world after your said season is over.

You don’t see candy canes trying to make an appearance on Valentine’s day, or Peeps trying to squeeze their demonic candy crusted bodies into your summer pool party.  They know their place, they don’t want to be in the pool with you, they want to be there when you’re running around your house trying to find where your mom ninja-hid all the colored eggs.

There you have it. A tale as old as time, a song as old as rhyme.  Pumpkins, go back to your hole in the ground, ya gourdy betch.  You don’t deserve your own season; not on my watch.

Now let me go finish my breakfast cheeseburger.