If you’ve ever cracked open the back of your cell phone and come face to face with this little beaut, you know the type of blind fury only subpar technology can evoke. I like to consider myself a relatively calm and happy-go-lucky individual, but nothing gets my blood boiling like second-rate gadgetry. Which brings me to the object of my seething hatred:Dear Motorola RAZR V3,
I tried to give you a chance. I really did. But you're an utter disapointment. Did I abandon you two days after you moved in, when your keyboard went on the fritz because I sweat on you? Not a chance. Did I kick you to the curb after the millionth time you dropped a call? Wouldn't dream of it. I stood by you through thick and thin, rescued you from cabs, saved you from falls and spilt beer, showered you with ringtones and limited edition My Little Pony stickers. And how do you repay me, you two-bit piece of plastic trash? Halfway into my "New Every Two" contract, you give up on life because of one light misting on a rainy April evening. You wuss. And now look at you. Withholding my texts. Refusing to let me dial " 0." Deleting my contacts! I've implored you for something, anything, and all you give me is the # sign. # ?! Well, # you, buddy. You worthless piece of un-warrantied junk. You water-damaged scumbag. You gave up on me, RAZR V3. You gave up on us. And that's why I'm leaving you for the LG ENv. He's brighter, he's hipper and has much thicker skin. Plus, his battery doesn't die after 2 minutes of use...low blow, I know, but what else can I say? It's over.
-Willa K
P.S. You have also earned the #3 spot on the list of Things That Are For Losers. Way to go.
