My friends, who like me travels great distances near and far; who goes the expanse for their occupation? I, like many of you, travel about an hour and a half to work every day, and use my phone as a soundtrack. What a better way to cross the countryside, amid the morning air, than with the high definition sound that blasts from my (make believe) really expensive car on the way into the city, with my amigos sitting beside me, carcinogens gently flowing from their windows, yawning, with coffee funnels nearby. I drive forever, and listen to music, or audiobooks, or whatnot, and this is unfortunate because it is a very very quick drain on my battery. Until fair maiden, my wife, Michelle, gave unto me a precious gift. She gave me a car mount/charger.
They both came from the same amazon store, as a combo deal, for the respectable cost of something along the lines of fifteen dollars. She wrapped them like Christmas presents (it’s July) in newspaper (the comics section), and gave to me on my unbeknownst-to-self-last-day-of-driving-with-this-problem a gift from the Kings of China. This mount and charger work hand in hand, and offer me guilt-free indulgence in morning music without draining my battery.
My life has become quite a sight better than it once was, as I slowly crawl towards being a member of our societal structure’s Proletariat Dinner Table. Until then, I shall continue typing senseless business formalities that in no way behoove me, and look forward, counting minute by minute, to the next moment when my beloved phone can be in its cradle, charging, and playing music to the delegation of the ultimate DJ, “Shuffle All.”
They both came from the same amazon store, as a combo deal, for the respectable cost of something along the lines of fifteen dollars. She wrapped them like Christmas presents (it’s July) in newspaper (the comics section), and gave to me on my unbeknownst-to-self-last-day-of-driving-with-this-problem a gift from the Kings of China. This mount and charger work hand in hand, and offer me guilt-free indulgence in morning music without draining my battery.
My life has become quite a sight better than it once was, as I slowly crawl towards being a member of our societal structure’s Proletariat Dinner Table. Until then, I shall continue typing senseless business formalities that in no way behoove me, and look forward, counting minute by minute, to the next moment when my beloved phone can be in its cradle, charging, and playing music to the delegation of the ultimate DJ, “Shuffle All.”