I, Sarcasm Goddess, take you iPhone to drop down stairs
and lose in my purse,
to use as my alarm clock (even though you decide not to work on really important meeting days)
and stay connected to the twatter,
to sling birds that are oh so angry
and direct me to the nearest purveyor of bacon,
to get me lost in strange cities (really? you think I should drive down this creepy dirt road to nowhere, and by "nowhere" I mean "barn filled with kidnappers, cannibals and axe murderers?")
and not remind me on road trips that Chick Fil A is closed on Sundays (causing me to drive 40 miles out of the way in order to NOT get one of their delicious sandwiches - isn't there an app for that? honestly),
to obsessively check my email for blog comments (seriously, no new comments? it's been 30 seconds since I last checked. you must be malfunctioning again),
to keep me entertained while I wait in the car for the husband to go into Panera to buy me a bagel cuz I'm wearing shorts and I haven't shaved my legs in days and I'm too hairy to be in polite company,
if you autocorrect "hell" to "he'll"
and "shit" to "shut" or "shot"
and "twat" to "tears" or "teat" or "test"
ONE MORE TIME
I will shove your face down a toilet or throw your ass in the wash.
This is my solemn vow.