I got a new phone this week. It was like buying a pair of jeans but twice as hard and reversed. Finding the right jeans is hard because there are buku options. Finding the right cell phone is hard because they only make them for business types and 12-year-old girls. So, unless you happen to be an iPerson, you’re stuck choosing between a device that looks like a cracked-out calculator that invited too many buttons to the party and accidentally shrunk itself with the company ray gun or the cutesy neon square thing that Hello Kitty uses to stay in touch with Goodbye Mouse.
I went with a knockoff iPhone. I call it my jPhone.