my dearly beloved ipod,
this is a eulogy for you. in the event that you do not fix yourself, magically, as what happened to rachel's speakers much to the angry disbelief of our friend abi. if you, however, fix yourself you will not be greeted with angry disbelief or any negative emotion. instead you will be cradled in a postive psychological field of reinforcement and approval, to the sounds of my ecstatic "THANK YOU STEVE JOBS." but in fact, the Most Illustrious Jobs was not involved in your life or creation but probably i should be thanking Hua Luoyin the replaceable factory worker who brought you into being seven thousand miles away in a shitty plant in Shenzhen China.
oops. i'm sorry. that was a digression away from the positive emotions you should be experiencing. back on track now. dearest ipod (i named you vivaci, in a sophomoric fit of drama and musical appropriateness), you literally died by chocolate. it's a much spoken of dream, amongst us humans, to die by chocolate. in fact we have numerous desserts which capture our hopes of a passing as delicious as that, but no one that i know of has done so yet. you are the first; you are not a human but you are a pioneer! the first, the last, the best. no death by washing machine is good enough for you (followed by emergency resuscitation in rice), no final free fall from the depths of a safe pocket, no everyday act of god that is not covered by apple's warranty.
"it died in chocolate," i mournfully told my friend over internet chat.
"u tried to eat your ipod?" he replied. he knows me so well. indeed, i am that greedy. i poured chocolate over you and tried to eat you.
HELL NO. i would sooner eat my arm. probably because it's actually marginally edible, which brings me to the second thing i talk about much more than is normal, namely, cannibalism. but i digress again. you were just an innocent bystander to the deceptively non-threatening lindt truffle ball (irish cream--it wasn't even that good but it was going to be my lunch on the bus ride back from minnesota) which proceeded to explode itself all over my bag. i would make a horribly non-politically correct comparison to terrorist bombings but i am much too good for that. even the truffle isn't all to blame: i also blame OPEC for producing the oil that allowed me to go to minnesota in the first place. expect a lawsuit.
cherished electronic, we have been together for...um. hold up a sec. ah yes, five years, back when i was still a foolish youth entering the life changing and beautiful experience of high school. we flew to china together, dropped you and dented your left corner, did forensics, pumped up before tennis games, moved out, went to college, walked to class, tagged and tailed mice, met new people who became friends, made explosives and founded sigma aldrich. the last one i made up. if that were true i could buy a lot more of you and be like haha i broke one of my twenty three ipods. actually i can't remember what we really did together nor do i really feel all that much nostalgic emotion associated with your little silver body. i just know that i miss you like i'd miss my left nostril (when you need you really really need it otherwise you forget it's there).
otherwise, the apple store will fix you for a cool $129. you better fix yourself you little shit.
lovingly,
your Person Connie
