Monday, December 5, 2011

I don't care what Siri's political beliefs are--I'm too busy playing Words With Friends


So a couple of months ago, I bowed to the inevitable and got an iPhone.

I had held out for years in an attempt to be non-conformist. I don’t LIKE doing the same thing that everyone else does. But the peer pressure got to be too much and I caved.

Of course, I waited until I could get the newest release and woke up at 3am like an idiot to pre-order the iPhone 4S so that I could at least have the far superior model to what everyone else had on the very first day possible.


And I have to admit, it was one of the best decisions I’ve made.

And one of the worst.

On the plus side, I’m no longer in the cellular dark ages. I can do all that cool crap that everyone else has been doing for years. And I am, in fact, kicking myself for not doing it earlier.

But the 4S is a joke. Like Siri was cool for the first day and a half when I asked her all the stupid questions that everyone else was asking her. And I laughed when she got mad that I kept asking about Hal 9000. (Please tell me that someone other than my dad knows what I’m talking about.)


Although I was extremely disappointed that when I asked what the airspeed velocity of an unladden swallow was, she didn’t ask “African or European swallow?”


But I giggled with moronic delight when I asked her “Who’s the boss?” And she came up with the ONLY correct answer.

And then I never used her again.

I mean, I know people are all up in arms about her unwillingness to provide you with the location of an abortion clinic. But, to be fair, what dumbass is walking around and suddenly says, “Hmm, I think I need an abortion before I walk another five blocks. Siri, where’s the closest abortion clinic?”
Actual answer from Siri on MY phone.  Just saying...

(That wasn’t a statement of political belief. I’m just saying you should probably make the decision before you leave the house. And maybe get a doctor’s recommendation on where to go instead of Siri’s. Yes, your iPhone can do a lot of things. And the x-ray app is kinda cool. But that doesn’t make Siri a medical professional.)

I also think the 4S was a complete rip-off. Like yeah, it has Siri and a better camera, but it looks EXACTLY the same as the 4. Which completely and utterly defeats the purpose of putting out a different phone, because unless I walk around obnoxiously asking Siri questions every three seconds, how are random people supposed to know that I have a better phone than they do?

Come on, Apple. Priorities.

But none of those things are why the iPhone is slowly destroying my life.

And it’s not even because I’ve spent a huge chunk of my savings that SHOULD have been spent on shoes buying worthless and pointless apps that amuse me for a couple of minutes before being forgotten about forever.

No, it’s because of the soulless, mind-sucking, life-destroying mental vacuum that is Words With Friends.

I’m totally addicted.

I honestly didn’t even plan to download the game. When I was a child, Scrabble was used as a torture device and the only form of punishment that I truly feared. Because being sent to my room wasn’t much of an inconvenience. I had my books and music and tv in there. So if I smacked my little brother upside the head for something and heard, “Sara! Go to your room!” it was like, okay, time to play!

But Scrabble? Oh no. That was REAL punishment. It was the only board game at my aunt and uncle’s Ocean City condo, and if my brother and I didn’t behave well enough, we had to play Scrabble with my mother instead of going to the boardwalk. I tried calling Child Protective Services, because that was CLEARLY a form of abuse. But when they showed up, my parents made them play Scrabble too until they finally lost, at which point they just turned to me, shrugged, and said, “You’re on your own, kid.”

Now that I’m older and have a much larger vocabulary, however, the game has become ridiculously addictive. Of course, it probably helps that it’s the high-tech version, because I still have nightmares about old-fashioned Scrabble sets in that Mommy Dearest, no-more-wire-hangers kind of way. But the game is approximately 94% more addictive than crack.

At the moment, I have nineteen different games going with fourteen different people. I’m not exaggerating. Like I know I sometimes blow things out of proportion for the sake of humor on the blog, but those are real numbers. I swear on Bruce Springsteen.

In fact, the thing that I hate most about Maryland’s new law prohibiting the use of cell phones even at traffic lights is that I can’t play while I’m at a light.

Well, okay, I CAN. I just have to keep my phone in my lap and my sunglasses on so it doesn’t LOOK like I’m looking at my phone when I’m stopped at a traffic light. Which is probably pretty conspicuous at night and when it’s raining.


And it’s probably bad that I play at school. Usually with other teachers during our planning periods, but also with former students. Who are also in school. But they’re at my old school, not the school that I currently teach at, and because they’re no longer in MY classes, I no longer feel compelled to tell Rachel and Alli to get off their phones. (I promised I'd mention them today... Hi guys!)

But I think my favorite thing about the game isn’t that I’m consistently beating my parents. Which I am. And it feels great. (Sorry mom and dad. Please don’t pull out the real Scrabble set next time I’m at your house. I’ll behave. I promise!)

No, my favorite thing is playing bad words to see what it will accept. For example, a certain four-letter word beginning with an “s” that means excrement is acceptable, although f-bombs aren’t. And it accepts “chode” and “dildos,” the discovery of which made me laugh out loud so loudly that people assumed I was having a seizure.

At this point, I will literally play any moderately profane word to see if it accepts it, even if it means I will lose the game. Because I apparently have the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old boy. If he met me online and didn't know what I looked like, Jerry Sandusky would love me.

But I also think that the game is secretly trying to kill me by being so addictive that I WANT to play it even when I’m driving.

And I have proof.

Words With Friends doesn’t recognize the word “Jews.” But it DOES recognize “shivah,” which is the Hebrew equivalent of a wake (but less fun), when Jews mourn for seven days after someone has died.

See? Jews aren’t okay, but DEAD Jews are.

Coincidence? Or evil plot?

To be honest though, I don’t really care. Because I’ve got nineteen games to get back to.


Peace out.



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