A tale of a sad little phone who never did anything wrong but still got eaten by the ocean
On Saturday, the Girls were laying on the sand, getting super tan and sexy, while the Boys stood a ways off and talked masculine things and watched the waves. Apparently they didn’t watch the waves close enough, as the only thing we heard was “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH GIRLS GO!” before we were wet, our towels were wet, and my poor, sad, innocent little very ancient flip-phone died a very salty death.
He lived a full life. RIP, Mickey.
(Oh, also, until Adam spoils me with A DROID, don’t try to call. Mickey has many amazing qualities, but answering calls from beyond the grave is not one of them.)
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