It's iPhone Season, Motherfuckers
It’s Oct. 13, bitches. Do you know what that means? You should have pre-ordered your iPhone 4S nine days ago. That’s right, 4S—not 4A, not 4Q. I’m talking the 19th letter of the alphabet, assholes, 4SuckonthissweetpieceofdualcoreA5chip. My birds are gonna look so motherfucking angry with these graphics.
Hey ma, want pictures of me at college to send to grandma? Wait ’til she gets a load of me through this 8MP lens. Yo bro, pass out drunk with my junk in your face? Check that out through f/2.4 aperature. Pixilation ain’t got shit.
Trash that iPhone 4—it’s apple-picking season motherfuckers! You can’t take this month away from the swarming hoards of Apple fans as they systematically raid every authorized Apple retail store in the country! Fuck Wall Street. Occupy Apple!
Guess what my wallpaper’s gonna be? That’s right, a fucking Steve Jobs tribute. I’m talking Andy Warhol style tribute all up in here, I’m talking neon colors in alternating patterns, I’m talking legit. Go hard or go Droid, fuckfaces, and I’m sure as hell not going Droid.
Hey iPhone 4S, can you remind me to pick up my dress when I leave work? Hey iPhone 4S, can you write this text for me real quick? Hey iPhone 4S, will it be sunny this weekend in Miami? Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes. BAM.
You’ll never guess what I’m going to be for Halloween. That’s right: my brand new iPhone 4S. Just try to get more fucking candy than me. Everything tastes better when you’re not just holding the latest version—you are the latest version. Hey baby, come take a look at my operating system.
You know all those shitty ads with “free ringtones” and goddamn smiley faces? Click the shit out of them! Apple doesn’t get motherfucking viruses like that prick Microsoft, and with the new iPhone you’ll have a fuck-ton of storage for all those fancy ringtones you want to stuff your fat face with.
Oh yeah, you have formals coming up? Do you also have an iPhone 4S? No? Well then you’re pretty much riding the bitch canoe up shit creek, aren’t you? I’m going with Siri, my voice-activated personal assistant and speak-only-when-spoken-to partner. It’s gonna be fucking sweet.
I can’t wait to dry hump the shit out of my new iPhone while you cry alone in the corner with your 4.0. Countdown to the iPhone 5, fuckers—point those money-cannons at your nearest Apple store and get ready for the shitstorm.