I have a new cell phone. It’s cute and pink.
Evidently when it was introduced last December, it was kind of a big deal, but I didn’t know that until I looked for the pic up there. Tokyo went pink for the occasion.
So did Paris.
None of this has anything to do with my choice of phones or colors. I chose the phone because it was pink, and the color because it will be easier to spot in the depths of my bag. Clearly, this is so last year. This year is all about the iPhone.
But the thing that bugs me (literally) about getting a new phone is that it is (literally) buggy.
As in, bugged.
As in, eavesdropping of the illegal kind.
Oh, you say, where did you get the commie propaganda?
But honestly, it’s okay.
Because Big Brother only means the best for me, and what are a few civil liberties worth, anyway? (Pay no attention to Benjamin Franklin and the founding fathers spinning in their graves.)
And, even though the FBI can eavesdrop on my private conversations –
– even when the phone is turned off –
All I have to do to make sure my conversations are private is to take out the battery.
See? No big deal.
And I have nothing to fear.
I am a good Episcopooks who knows which fork to use for salad and which fork to use for shrimp and when to genuflect and when to cross myself and when to murmur sweetly near my commie-pinko cell phone’s “secret” microphone –
“Bite my ass.”

















