Sidekick Your Ass

Newbluebaby sent me this great story about a stolen Sidekick which was left in a Manhattan taxi by a guy's girlfriend and then it went on a trip to Corona Queens where it's new "owner" took pictures of her family and ass and stuff and then the guy tracked it down thanks to T-Mobile Sidekick technology and everyone's best friend, MySpace.

I don't have much sympathy for thieves, but in her defense, you can kind of understand how excited she must have been to be the new "owner" of this cool little gadget that all the celebrites have. You don't see a picture of a celebrity without their little Sidekick at their side, ferociously typing away or blabbing away on it, because they're so important, they need to be everywhere they aren't. Live in the moment, for cryin' out loud. Get off the phone, you ADD retard and focus on something. Read something, maybe. No, reading about yourself in In Touch doesn't count.

No offense to the T-Mobile obsessed, but I wouldn't be sad if we learned down the line that excessive Sidekick use causes major ear and finger hair which is impossible to remove, despite Hollywood's most sophisticated laser devices, and there will be a lot of hairy bitches and bastards running around and I'll go, "Ha Ha, hairy dumb person, you used your phone too much." And I'll win.

What?

Anyway, people who don't return stuff are a-holes. They only thing I didn't return was the iPod because it had no identification on it. Listening to the songlist, I can tell you I have a few guesses: The owner was either

1. a gay man
2. an Asian woman
   

But that's as close as I can get to figuring it out. I found 2 cell phones and 2 work IDs this winter and returned all to their rightful owners. You'd think I'd get a ten spot or a fin or a lousy note for my trouble, but no. People are a-holes.

And I guess that's the point of this post.

And every other post.

Sigh.