Tom’s posting tomorrow, we’re having a three-day weekend and doing some museum-going on Monday with my captive kid audience.
In other exciting news, I got a new Droid cell phone yesterday, at the end of our long-anticipated divorce from the craptastic AT&T network and back to Verizon. My husband and girls bullied me into it. I’m still playing with the Droid; never has fine new technology been so wasted on a human being as this thing on me, I tell you. I’m the person who’s had an actual Go-Phone for two years — one of those things in the clamshell packaging off the rack for $15 at Best Buy — because whenever a teen’s phone breaks they get my upgrade. Because heaven forbid they have to go to school with a cheesy, out-of-date phone.
The most amusing thing about playing with the Droid thus far (although watching me do anything, including trying to answer a call, is amusing to my teenagers) is the autocorrect feature in text messaging. The New York Times magazine had a funny article about autocorrect this morning in their magazine, and they mentioned a website that shows various autocorrect text fails — Damn You Auto Correct!
And hence this quick post on a Sunday night, because frankly I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. My ribs ache. Even the dog came in to see what the problem was, followed by Diva, yelling, “you okay in there?” I should probably mention that what makes so many of these bloopers funny is that they turn out unintentionally raunchy in nature, just in case you end up reading this at work.