Oh My God. Everyone knows that as soon as you get your hand on it in the right way and discover all its pleasures, you just want to keep touching it over and over again, even past when your hand cramps.
I’m talking about iPhone, of course.
But seriously. I bumped my plan up to 1500 text messages (from 200) and it will be down to the wire whether I exceed that number this month. Why? Because I’m 12 again.
Actually, the phone is cooler than you think. By a couple of touchdowns. (That reference wasn’t butch posturing, I’m just channeling Aaron Sorkin)
I’m at Cafe Bean again: