My iPad Prayer (3rd generation)

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As a former altar boy (reformed) I know how to pray. And I’m not above resorting to such tactics when the need is great. Like when I want revenge on my boss. You know what they say: “There are no atheists in shitholes.”

On my blog I claim to be many things, it’s true. But I’ve never claimed to be mature. E-v-a-r. I dare you to go back and painstakingly re-read every word I’ve ever written. I think you’ll find this claim to be born out. There will be nary a word about the mythical beast known as my maturity. Neener, neener and in yo face!


Where was I? Oh yeah. What could it possibly be that would motivate me to pray? Read on!

So there I was watching the boss drooling and playing with himself over the thought of adding yet another iPad to his collection. A true Apple fanboy (derogatory) he got his pre-order in right after Tim Cook forgot to tuck in his button-up shirt (stylish) and finished telling the world, “This is an iPad 2 with a retina display. You’ll buy it even if you don’t quite know why. Comply.”

Was I green with envy? You bet. Is that immature? Uh huh. A scummy guy who is utterly unethical and despicable in business picks up every new little gadget for the hell of it, then completely forgets about it and there it sits gathering dust. Except, of course, when he goes to the bathroom for 45 minutes when he takes it with him to do important boss shit like play Plants vs. Zombies while sitting on the toilet.

Every day the packages from Amazon and roll in for the boss. He’s a possession whore. Money can’t buy you love but possessions make you feel better about your shitty existence. Apparently.

Meanwhile, if my feet hurt (which they do) I have to start something called a “fund” to hopefully be able to save up enough money to buy a new pair of sneakers someday, although I generally get them used. Right now I’m sporting a pair of black velcro-secured footwear, and that’s one step up from fucking Crocs. (Gag me.)

It was under such circumstances I found myself falling to my knees a few weeks ago, in the most humble fashion, sincerely opening my (black) heart to the Lord and imploring him/her to hear my plea.

Dear Lord,

It’s me, little Tommy. Remember me? I know it’s been a while and you’ve forgotten I’ve ever existed (always slip in an insult when you can, Ed.) but I need you right now. I hope you already know I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t really important.

Yeah, I know it’s crass to turn to you only in times of need and you’ll probably get a good belly laugh from this. What can I say? I’m literally at your mercy. And I do enjoy being entertaining.

Anyway, even though Steve Jobs isn’t one of your flock any longer, you still probably heard about this new iPad 3 coming out soon. It’d be hard to miss it.

My boss is snatching one up for the hell of it and I, of course, have to wait. So I have a few simple requests.

  1. Please fuck with the name. Don’t let it be called the “iPad 3.” That would make things too easy. When the bastard searches for anything to do with his latest prize, I want all sorts of iPad and iPad 2 bullshit clouding the waters in the results. It should be really hard to find anything about the new one with all of the old stuff mixed in. That would be great.
  2. As a quintessential early adopter, especially of things for which he has no legitimate need, please make something wrong with the first units rushed to market by Apple. Maybe it could be something as inconsequential as the thing running a little bit hot. I just want my iPad to be better than his when I finally get around to it.
  3. He had to have, of course, the top of the line thing and the data plan support, too. Please make the thing suck down bandwidth like a thirsty whore so he’ll get hit with expensive overage fees. You can call this a “speed trap” if you like.
  4. I know you like things in threes, but I can’t resist. I’m not trying to be greedy but one more quickie. Please make the Wi-Fi intermittent and frustrating.

Oh yeah, thanks again for that last game of chess. I found it rather challenging.


What can I say? Sometimes prayers do come true.

9 responses

  1. I never doubted your immaturity for a moment! Not nary a one.

    I second your prayers. (another Christmas miracle right there!)


    1. I truly appreciate your faith in my immaturity. It’s always nice to have a few constants in this ever-changing Earthly world.

      I hear that seconding prayers gets them bumped ahead in the queue, so I thank you for that!


  2. *snort* Altar boy…surely you’re padding the truth just a little bit here.

    And for God’s sake…get yourself some decent footwear! Only old people and babies wear anything with velcro. But then…neither has the mental competence to tie laces…and you’re nothing if not mental. ๐Ÿ™‚


    1. Altar boy. True story. Lucky for me the priest was a wonderful fellow. He never even tried to touch me. Actually I looked up to him quite a bit.

      My job duties were extensive. I had to light candles and ring bells. And, in a way, I’m still doing that same job, even today, here on the blog.

      I’ll be posting a picture of my (free) velcro footwear on Twitter today. Watch for it. Including the part where the Velcro strips curl up fashionably. Sure, they don’t quite fit my feet causing blisters and bleeding when I walk, but then again, they were free.


  3. Like

  4. I miss those days of velcro shoes when my son was three years old! Thanks for the memories.

    I’ll get a look at my son’s new iPad tomorrow. He seems to have an agreement with Apple and FedEx to deliver these items to his doorstep the minute they are available. He then sells his “old’ gear online. He’s already sold his old iPad. His whole life centers on tech items, particularly Apple. He doesn’t own much else (except too many bicycles and lots of beer-making stuff), although he did outgrow his velcro shoes.

    You can take my approach by completely ignoring Apple, since my first and only Apple purchase, the Apple III computer three decades ago. You live on a higher plane than does your boss, so you can simply look down on his hoarding of items produced in sweat shops (not literally sweat shops, of course, because that would ruin the merchandise) in China. But being on a higher plane, what your boss acquires does not affect you or draw your attention in the least! ๐Ÿ˜‰ Namaste


    1. Velcro shoes. Perfect for three-year olds and grumpy grandpas.

      The retina display does sound neat but it’s not that big of a deal. If you put and iPad 2 and an iPad 3 side by side, you can see the difference, but it isn’t life changing.

      And the iPad 3 is supposed to be incrementally faster than the iPad 2.

      All in all it doesn’t seem like enough to jump from an iPad 2 to an iPad 3 with a religious fervor, but that’s just me chiming in from the cheap seats.

      I live on a higher plan! Yeah, I got that going for me. Can you eat that plane or download apps on it? Even so, I guess I can still hang it on the wall like a trophy.


      1. I talked to my son today. He showed some maturity and did not buy the new iPad. He also was amazed that I had almost filled 4 terrabytes of memory on my computer from my photographs and warned me that I could lose it all in a crash.


  5. FTW for your son! ๐Ÿ™‚

    The boss, meanwhile, is placing an order for at least one more iPad 3. Yep. Multiples.

    This one is apparently for his wife, who called today and plaintively whined, “Did you order it yet?” (You have to imagine the sound of her voice.)

    4 terrabytes is a lot. You better back that shit up. I’ve had a lot of fun with Aperture lately. My goal is to organize all of my crappy photos.


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