I’m no fuddy duddy, but as much as I love my iPhone, I don’t understand half of the apps that people rave about.
Words with Friends? Scrabble for amateurs. I need to feel those cold, hard tiles in my hands as I annihilate bitches with my triple-word, seven-letter concoctions of wordsmithing domination and glory.
Shazam? Useless. Whenever I whip out Shazam while bopping around Zara to figure out what kind of Euro electronica I can download for my next get-your-lazy-ass-in-motion workout playlist, all it picks up are the whines of chickenheads who can’t get those tangerine skinny jeans to squeeze over their baby-makin’ hips.
And don’t even get me started on Siri. My hatred for that incompetent wench haunts my dreams. It’s some serious Marion-Cotillard-in-Inception shiz, and it’s not okay.
There is one app that deserves its hype, though, and that app is Instagram.
I’m a sheep, I know. But to my credit, I was on the Instagram bandwagon before Mark Zuckerberg was a hop-on. I guess taking pictures, making them all old and effed-up looking, and then grovelling for “likes” and smiley faces from all your friends is a basic human instinct next to survival and sexy times.
Looky looky what I can do with just a swipe of my grubby little carny finger!
Do I think that $1,000,000,000 accurately captures the value of a free service that creates zero societal benefit and will almost certainly appear on one of those VH1 shows where Z-list comedians make insipid jokes about former fads in the not-too-distant future? Si si si.
But that’s why I’m going to business school. To learn how the 1% creates wealth by pulling it straight out of their tushies.
As per usual, Jon Stewart captures my thoughts on the subject exquisitely. Seriously guys…. it’s so much easier than a time machine.Vodpod videos no longer available.