The Modern Version Of, “I Drank The Kool-Aid”
No, I didn’t buy a Mac, much as I’d love to fiddle with one.
As Cyborg-JFK once said on the digital shores of Binary Berlin, Ich bin iPhoneliner. Or something. I may have my history botched.
So, now that I have this whacko contraption, what do I do with it? My choices are so limitless, I’m almost paralyzed by them.
(I did already download and get my love on with Pandora.)
What free apps do I need? What paid apps do I need? What secrets don’t I know about this thing? What are the hidden downfalls and the unspoken bonuses? Is there an app that will remind me to wear pants? Help!
(Oh, and in closing: poor Kool-Aid. They are much-maligned with their supposed connection to Jonestown. Except, it wasn’t Kool-Aid at Jonestown. It was Flavor Aid. Just once, I wanna see the Kool-Aid Man come crashing through the wall and be like, “Oh Yeah! Flavor Aid causes murder-suicides in French Guyana! Oh Yeah!”