Malfuction

When I came to college, I got a cellphone. Everyone has cellphones at college. I had this cellphone, with its crappy-ass ringtone and Green/Black screen, for 3 years. In all this time, the phone pulled some gayass tricks (holding a full charge for 2 hours, forgetting how to vibrate properly, and losing the function of the vital 2 (ABC) key). But never did the little solider fail to operate because of physical trama. Plenty of spills, plenty of blackouts, gallons of jagermester; I was still on the Sprint free and clear plan. Then the new bitch rolls into town, promising a camera, color, and speakerphone. And as soon as the humble narrator gets sufficently wasted, what happens? BAM, right on the sidewalk, out flies the goddamn batterypack/simcard clusterfuck, and Alex Phipps is off the Grid. Now, I realize that yes, this can happen to any phone with the proper combination of physics and inebriation. But TWO times? And both in the highly vital drunk dialing/texting primetime of post 2am barnights? The replacement of the battery pack is not so difficult when sober. There are little graphics illustrating the proper technique with which to replace your battery pack, should you be retard enough to misunderstand the obvious insert-till-click fundamentals. But all understand the lack of coordination that goes along with alcohol consumption. And the loss of reasoning and fine motor skills as well. In the end, when both sides seem to be black, and covered with symbols (chinese writing and a numbered graphic illustrating battery installation seem strikingly similar after 3 LIT's) there exists an infinite number of incorrect combinations. This is frustration on a level never before encountered with cellular devices. There are currently 2 large impact sites on the bottom of the offending device; it seems perhaps the slim, pocket-fitting design is actually aerodynamically designed to direct the phone to impact resulting in maximum confusion and disaster. Fuck you, Motorola. It seems that they have accomplished what thousands of angry girls never could: preventing an Alex Phipps Drunk Dial.