iFantasy

Last week I bumped into a young man who happened to own an iPhone. It was then that I fantasized about his iPhone and I on a beach in the Philippines, possibly on one of those little islands off the coast of Aklan or between Palawan and Malaysia with only one coconut tree on it. Turning to her (the iPhone) I would say, “Im so glad you left that young man I saw you with a few weeks ago, he didn’t know how to cook and his face was similar-looking to an apple fritter. Or carabao poops.” To which my iPhone would reply, “laisse faire l’amour, bomba.”

After the fantasy, I asked the young man if I could visit my website with his iPhone so that I could take a picture of the iPhone with my website displayed on it so that I could post the picture up on my blog and brag that I had the chance to hold an iPhone that wasn’t mine. After looking at me weird he handed me the iPhone and I had my way with it. I made sure I was delicate, yet firm. Gentle, yet hella cool.

Apparently my website doesn’t display well on the iPhone. Or maybe the iPhone cannot withstand the beautiful that is my blog grammar. I stood there as he walked away with his iPhone. A tear falls. From my nostril because it was cold. And then another tear fell, from my glistening sad right eye. The end.