“A new software update (iOS 98798.98.800) is available for your ePhone. Would you like to download and install now?”
What? Yeah yeah whatever.
“TERMS AND CONDITIONS.”
Scroll, scroll, scroll. Yeah okay I get it.
“Do you agree to the terms and conditions?”
FOR GOD’S SAKE YES
Facebook. Notifications. Messages. Instagram. Keep those likes coming. Seriously? She chose to wear THAT? Spare us. Morning reconnaissance of the shallows and swells of Twitter. The Jenners keep me going when all else fails.
The screen just went dark. Oh...Kay. I’m turning it on again. It’s not turning on.
Where’s my power bank?
Two hip-looking guys (leather jackets, skinny jeans, Stan Smiths) just entered my house. Talk about rude. I opened the door and they literally just shoved me out of the way. I would totally snapchat this BUT MY PHONE IS DEAD—
What? What are you guys doing? Are you screwing cameras into my house? Stop stop my dad will totally freak—
HEY YOU CAN’T TAKE AWAY MY DOG
STOP WHY ARE YOU ATTACHING MICROPHONES ON TO ALL MY CLOTHES YOU’RE TOTALLY KILLING MY AESTHETIC
I don’t believe this. WHAT KIND OF SICK JOKE AHGGJGLKSDJGSJKL—
“Next time, read the fine print, ma’am.”
“Welcome to iOS 98798.98.800. By agreeing to our terms of service you have donated your person to the frontiers of science, Opple’s project Generation M: Slaves to Technology. Our representatives will be with you shortly.”