Why I never attend CES. Confessions of a gadget addict.

How Inspector Gadget must have suffered!

Gadgetaholic (noun) one who suffers from an addiction to gadgets.

I am an admitted gadgetaholic.

Ok, ok. There’s no such word as gadgetaholic.

But there should be.

I’m addicted to gadgets.

If it beeps, buzzes, chirps or tweets, I’ve got to have it.

I can’t even help myself.

On any given occasion, I’ve got a gagillion different gadgets in rotation.

Mobile phones, tablets, laptops, mp3 players, remotes, wireless keyboards, clickers, battery packs, you name it.

If it’s got a modicum of utility, I’ve owned it – or coveted it.

I’ve been hooked on gadgets for so long, I can’t even tell you when it first started.

With my obsession for gadgets, one would think that the annual Consumer Electronics Show (CES) was Shangri-La for someone like me.

But it’s quite the opposite.

I can’t stand CES.

All those companies, congregating, with all their unreleased wares for show.

It’s all too much.

It’s so bad that during the CES week, I just go radio silent.

I ignore all CES related updates.

I pay attention to none of the information that streams out of TechCrunch, cNet, AdAge, Engadget, et als during the week.

I want none of it.

And do you know why?

BECAUSE I CAN’T HAVE ANY OF IT!!

At times, I’ve gone a bit…overboard…with my….

Obsession.

There, I’ve siad it.

My closet (several of my closets) are stuffed with gadgets past.

Dust laden boxes of this portable satellite radio…

Or that digital recorder…

Or some unused thingamajig or doohickey.

But do you know what it’s like to be a gearhead, but not be able to cop the latest technological wares?

Or see bright shiny object, and have to walk away from it?

It’s torture! That’s what!

And they’re not just any old shiny objects, mind you.

They’re shiny objects created by cats who are more tech obsessed than I.

Which means they’re reaallllyyyy cool!

I mean, have you seen some of this stuff?

Flexible touch screens.

Smartphone watches.

E-ink smartphone displays.

Yum. Yum. Yum!

But what good is all this scrumptious technology if I can’t have any of it?

99% of the items at CES are concept items=not for sale.

The stuff that is for sale is too expensive to buy (or shit I dont want).

My urge to possess said stuff would drive me to straight thuggery.

And how would I look robbing these good white folk for their goodies?

I don’t think a stick-up at CES would go unnoticed.

So every year, I resign myself to keeping my addicted ass in Jersey, while CES goes on without me.

And that’s a good thing.

No one wants to see a grown-ass man, drooling like a rabid dog.

Flitting from thing to thing like a hopped up kid with ADD.

One day, I might get my addiction under control.

But for the time being, I’ll treat CES like a watering hole to be avoided at all costs.

And take my recovery one day at a time.

They call me the Sperm Whisperer. Tips for making Boys.

Many of my male friends have multiple girl children, and no boys.

As men are prone to do, they seek solace from other males, collectively lamenting the conspicuous absence of he-who-shall-carry-thy-name.

On the outside, these men love their ‘lil mamas, daddy’s girls, the apples of their eyes.

But on the inside, their stomachs are in knots over the fact that one day, some boy/man will come and take them away, and do things to/with them.

And they’ll be powerless to stop them.

More disturbing than the fear of future violation though, is the fear that their line may come to an end.

Because they bore no heirs to carry their name.

We can speak of these horrors no more.

My male-child-less male friends, seek my counsel, as I have sired two (count ‘em up – TWO) male heirs.

I am a repository and wealth of information on child rearing and the like.

And while I also have two girl children, frequently, my sage advice is sought for the elusive prize – how to sire a male child.

Now outside of expensive artificial insemination, through which one can virtually guarantee the sex of their child, few know of any real non-clinical methods for obtaining the desired sex.

All too often, men find themselves sweating bullets (and praying) as the ultrasound technician looks for the telltale protrusion that says B-O-Y.

All too often, they mask their inner sorrow, when the telltale sign is not there.

If our spouse (or baby mama) wants to be ‘surprised’, we wait with bated breath in the delivery room (or at the bar) for word of the sex of the child.

Armed with a box of Cohibas, we wait to hear “it’s a boy”.

Only to hand them out, half-heartedly, when “it’s a girl” is delivered instead.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

Hear me now men!

It doesn’t have to be this way!

If you want a boy, gather round, and let me learn ya.

The wisdom I pass to you, has been passed down for generations.

The tips I outline here, are tried and true.

While some may be skeptical, know ye this…

I have used them myself and have the gonads to prove it.

If you’re one, two or three girls deep, and you want that next crumb snatcher to be a boy, follow these simple tips.

Tip No. 1: Have sex with your girl in the morning.

It is a known fact that Y sperm thrive in a base environment. The woman’s vaginal canal area is pretty acidic and generally inhospitable to Y sperm. However, in the morning, before your girl is active, and her body temperature rises (from activity) the conditions of her vaginal canal area are ripe for planting your Y seed. So take her before she’s had a chance to rouse!

Tip No. 2: Drink a cup of caffeinated coffee before having sex.

Y sperm are a particularly slow and pathetic lot. They’re not particularly active, as sperm go. Coffee stimulates the Y sperm, giving them a much needed boost. Having a strong cup of black coffee, before you do the deed, gets your boys ready for the task at hand. I’d suggest placing a Keurig on the night stand so that your sperm
juice is on the ready.

Tip No. 3: Have sex doggy-style.

If you’re like me, you’re particularly fond of backshots. However, when it comes to making boys, it’s crucial that you take your woman exclusively from the back. And here’s why. Unlike the X sperm, which have long flagella (or tails), Y sperm have short stubby ones. Thus, they’re not the best swimmers and they tire quickly. So to increase the likelihood that they’ll be first to the egg, you’ve got to shorten the distance your boys have to travel. By doing it doggy-style, you’re placing the end of your penis junk manhood as close as possible to the opening of the cervix, increasing the likelihood that your caffeine-wired Ys reach the prize.

To recap: sex in the morning, after a cup of black coffee, doggy-style.

Got it?

By now, I’m sure that many of you are thinking “that Stephen Chukumba has finally lost it.”

Indeed, as I shared my tips with several of my colleagues yesterday, there was skepticism and chuckles all around.

Sure, it sounds/sounded ludicrous.

But these are scientific truths I’m spitting.

Hey, don’t take my word for it.

Check out How to Choose the Sex of Your Baby, by Dr. Landrum B. Shettles.

The tips I’ve share with you, are part of the Shettles Method of gender selection.

So Rodney, Anthony and any other male within the sound of my blog, if you want to get that boy (or that girl), heed my words.

They don’t call me the Sperm Whisperer for nuthin.

Is it possible to love a phone? Yes (if it’s an iPhone 5)

The author and his betrothed.

I’m totally useless.

Why?

Because I’m in love with my iPhone 5.

Sure, I’m an Apple Fan.

And Apple fans are freaks.

But I have true, deep, heartfelt affection for an inanimate object.

I’ll admit I’ve always checked for Apple products.

I beheld my first iPhone with wonder.

I held it up in the sky, Simba-like, examining it from all sides as the screen glint in the sunlight.

I recall the glee I first felt starting my iPhone for the first time.

I could barely contain my excitement as the apple logo illuminated the screen, and then cede to the landing page with all those wonderful icons.

The thought of it still makes my heart flutter.

But that was a time long ago.

Subsequent iPhone releases have failed to generate any similar reaction in me.

In fact, I’ve been downright hostile towards them.

I’ve resisted the old bait-and-switch Apple is famous for, and passed upgrades to the 3G and 3GS.

When the 4 dropped, I felt that enough had changed over the course of the three years I’d owned my phone.

To be honest, I felt a little embarrassed to still be rocking a first gen.

And while the 4 was a serious device, it didn’t move me the way my first iPhone had.

So it was with much consternation that I copped the 5.

I was still jaded by the Apple bait-and-switch.

I mean really, six phones in less than five years?

But it was love at first sight.

It She was tall, slim and elegant.

I felt my heart palpitate as the AT&T associate handed it her to me.

As much as I tried, I couldn’t resist it her.

I just knew these feelings were fleeting.

It’s just a phone.

Sure, Apple came up with another sleek design and raised the bat.

But it’s just a phone.

Three months later, I can’t believe that I still have the same amorous feelings for my phone.

When I first got it her, I stuck it her in an Otter.

There was no way I was going to let anything happen to it her.

Not on my watch.

My Secret Santa got me an i-Blason Power Glider external battery case (because of course, the iPhone battery life is for shit).

And for the first time since I’ve owned the phone, I gazed upon it her naked, unsheathed…

I slipped it her into it’s her new case…

It’s Her shiny white face exposed…

I’m verklempt…

Talk among yourselves…

I can’t believe I’ve kept this thing of beauty hidden for so long.

Nobody put’s Baby in a corner!

I love my iPhone 5.

Is my love so wrong?

Get more traffic to your blog. The Stephen Chukumba way.

If you’ve arrived here, you were probably doing a search for tips for driving traffic to your blog.

Perhaps you typed “how do I get more traffic” or “increasing traffic to my blog” or “tips for improving your blog’s ranking in search engines”.

Invariably, you came across a number of different results, and settled upon this site to hopefully find the information you were looking for.

You may have even passed up a number of higher ranked results, when you determined that it was just some joker spewing some non-specific set of tips.

Or worse, using jargon that you could neither understand or apply.

Dejected, you navigated away from that page, back to your search results and happened upon my blog.

Well, friend, you’re in luck.

Years ago when I started blogging, I performed just such a search.

I got back loads of articles, written by folks who, while well intended, gave crap advice for building traffic or publishing a better blog.

Not one of them was truly helpful.

And I spent the next few years, engaged in trial-and-error.

But now I think I’ve arrived at the secret sauce of blogging.

Keywords.

Keywords AND tagging, to be a bit more specific.

What are keywords?

In their purest sense, keywords are how content is organized online.

They are descriptive words that serve as reference points for finding information on the internet.

When used singly or in combination, they help someone performing an online search locate the information they are looking for.

When I started blogging, I would write and post frequently.

One of the ‘tip’ sites I visited said that posting frequently helped to drive traffic to your blog.

So I blogged voraciously.

I paid no attention to tagging my posts with keywords.

Regardless of whether my post was timely, insightful, clever or well written, search engine bots simply did not crawl to it.

And as a result, my little blog saw very little traffic.

Then, I read a blog about the importance of metadata, and started tagging my blogs with keywords and descriptive text.

I just knew that I had found the keys to my blogging salvation.

If I was writing about President Obama, my keywords would be “Obama”, “President”, “Democrat”.

I write, tag, post and wait.

Nada.

I didn’t realize that there were about a zillion other blogs and online articles using the exact same keywords.

My blog was simply one in an undifferentiated mass.

If the New York Times and I both wrote an article that day, about the POTUS, which article was going to come up in a search?

Hint: NOT mine.

Even if I was keyword stuffing (loading a web page with keywords in the meta tags or content), I wasn’t getting more traffic.

All these so-called tips for driving traffic were crap!

But then, my younger brother, Celestine, a friggin PhD, gave me the most valuable tip I ever received about keywords and tagging.

Descriptive phrases.

It’s one thing to add keywords to your blog posts and meta data.

It’s another thing entirely to utilize full descriptive phrases.

Think about it.

Who ever just types one word into Google?

Typically, you type out the full query and hit enter.

The results you get back are those whose meta tags most closely match yours.

If there are only one or two words that match, they are lower ranked.

If several words match, or if whole phrases match, those results are ranked higher.

For example, if you type: “get more traffic to your blog” this post will probably be returned on the first page.

And that’s for two reasons.

1. Because that’s the title of this blog post.

2. The phrase is in the body of the blog post and the meta tags.

Over the years, my blog has seen a significant increase in traffic.

I’ve become much more adept at tagging my articles with relevant keywords and keyword phrases, and that has greatly improved the trafic to my site.

When I first started blogging, I’d get 10-20 views per day.

Today, it’s about 100-200.

Now, I don’t claim to be a blogging expert, but I do know a lil’ sumthin’ sumthin’.

But don’t take my word for it.

Try tagging your blog post with descriptive text, and see if your traffic doesn’t improve.

And when it does, tell ‘em Stephen Chukumba showed you how.

But if it doesn’t…keep it to yourself!

Don’t Eat At Joes. John Wynne, for shame.

You never want to find this in your Sunset Salmon.

I just left Joe’s Crab Shack on Route 1 in Lawrenceville.

My wife found a black object in her Sunset Salmon, which we initially believed to be a piece of black plastic.

After summoning the waiter, who in turn, brought the manager, we learned that what we thought was plastic was (in his opinion) actually the charred remains of a bun.

Apparently, a piece of a bun became dislodged when it was cooked on the grill.

Buns are grilled on the same surface they use to grill the fish.

Cross-contamination anyone?

This dislodged piece went undiscovered for a period and achieved it’s blackness and hardness over repeated cooking.

Undiscovered? Was it hiding out?

The burnt piece lodged into the salmon must have been swept up onto the plate when it was being cooked.

Should you be telling me this?

Sounds…how do you say…unhygienic.

So it wasn’t a piece of plastic, he concluded, it was just a reeallly burnt piece of bun.

I was genuinely relieved for the manager’s forensic analysis of the foriegn object.

But I was more interested to learn how he intended to resolve the solution.

As he prattled on about why, if it were a piece of plastic, it would have burned immediately upon contact with the grill…

I realized that he was not intent on doing the right thing.

As if reading my mind, he began to fumble about, attempting to reach his rear left pocket.

He explained, digging furtively in his pocket, that he was the manager of the establishment.

John Wynne, Assistant General Manager, Joes Crab Shack. Boooooo!!!!

Placing his card on the table in front of us, he said (and I quote) “My card’s not worth anything, but this one is.”

After fumbling through the stack of cards pulled from his pocket, he placed another yellow business-sized card on the table atop the previous one.

Joe’s Crab Shack. Free Appetizer. And why would I eat here again?

“You can use it the next time you dine with us.”

What makes you think I’m going to dine here again?

I was stunned.

Not only can’t I used this voucher for my CURRENT appetizer, you’re not even going to spot me an ENTREE?!

The afflicted dish was an ENTREE!

I was twisted.

Mind you, when our waiter left to retrieve the manager, he clearly knew the severity of the black charred discovery.

I told him to be glad he wasn’t bringing his manager back to see Gordon Ramsey.

Cause we know how Gordon gets down!

I was clearly not pleased with that my wife’s meal was ruined.

But ol’ Wynne didn’t skip a beat.

With a “enjoy the rest of your meal,” he was off.

When my check arrived, I was was thermonuclear.

The salmon was on the check.

I had held out hope, that despite the manager’s flacid response he would have still shown me the courtesy of removing the offending dish from our bill.

Alas, twas not the case.

I’ve NEVER complained about finding something in my meal that didn’t IMMEDIATELY result in that item being removed from my check.

Or an offer to replace it.

Typically the waiter just handles it.

The escalation to mister manager immediately signified that someone was coming to HANDLE the situation and make it right.

Wynne did neither of these.

Even though I was ready to read both my waiter and Mr. Wynne the riot act…

I chilled and paid the bill.

Was with wifey.

Didn’t want to cause a scene.

But I couldn’t let the situation lie.

So I signed the receipt and left Mr. Wynne, this little note:

Tip for John Wynne. Notice the shameless plug.

I’m posting my crappy dining experience for posterity.

I doubt anyone from Joe’s Crab shack will find this post.

And if they do, they’ll probably offer me more Wynne-ian flaccidity.

I’ve given up on contacting brands directly, because I’ve found that they NEVER do the right thing when you do.

Dominos Pizza failed the test.

So did Louis Vuitton.

Now Joe’s Crab Shack is on the list.

BTW Joe’s…

You should have Mr. Wynne take some additional managerial courses.

His current customer relation skills suck salmon balls…

….or burnt bun pieces.

Will the real B.I.G. please stand up? Big Sean, sit down.

Show some respect Lil’ Sean!

I can’t stand posers.

You know, folks who claim that they’re the original, but are really some half-baked facsimile.

And there are loads of posers in the rap game.

You can tick off the numerous rappers, whose names are attributable to real cats.

50 Cent.

Noreaga.

Jim Jones.

Rick Ross.

Typically, rappers use the name of some ill gangster as their rap nom de plume or alias, thereby channeling the street cred of their alter ego.

It’s deeper than this, but you get the picture.

There’s one, though, that really gets my goat.

‘Big’ Sean.

I heard this song recently, which starts off “B-I-G”, which everyone knows was the signature call-out of the Notorious B.I.G. aka Biggie Small aka Biggie aka B.I.G.

Now this 24 year old rapper from San Francisco is running around, referring to himself as B.I.G.

And taking issue whenever he’s called out on it.

Umm…dude, there was already a B.I.G., what are you tripping about?

You were like six when Ready To Die dropped.

You could barely scrawl your name when it was certified platinum.

And now, all of a sudden because people on your ‘block’ know you as B.I.G., we’re supposed to give you a pass?

I don’t think so.

It would be one thing if he acknowledged his predecessor, and gave Biggie his just due.

But this snotty nosed kid acts as if anyone who questions his use of the (much more famous, talented and prolific) rapper’s name is some sort of insult.

Listen here, young man.

You just got into the game.

You barely have chest hair on that bird chest.

Can we call you Big ‘Bird-Chest’ Sean?

And at 5′ 7″, calling yourself ‘big’ is somewhat of a stretch, wouldn’t you say?

Even if the rumors of your large johnson are true, naming yourself ‘big’ because of it smacks of insecurity.

Maybe you’re just overcompensating because of your Lilliputian size.

Or perhaps you simply wanted to differentiate yourself from other vertically challenged rappers, who embrace their short stature by using the ‘lil’ moniker in their names: Lil Wayne, Lil Bow Wow, Lil’ Cease, Lil Flip, etc.

If that’s the case, it’s all good.

But there are loads of rappers who call themselves Big <fill in rapper’s name here>, that don’t refer to themselves as “B.I.G.”: Big Boi, Big Pun, Big L, Big Daddy Kane, Big Mike, etc.

These cats (who all precede you) haven’t felt like they could use B.I.G. legitimately.

I would think that you’d want to strike out and create your own identity, rather than ride on someone else’s popularity.

For all that, why don’t you just yell out ‘Yeaaahhhhhhh boooyyyeeeee!” like Flavor Flave?

But that’s just me.

Sue me and I’ll sue you back. The Apple Samsung saga continues.

Surprise, surprise.

Today TechCrunch announced that Samsung filed a patent lawsuit against Apple, alleging among other things, that the iPhone 5 violates several of Samsung’s patents.

I find it quite humorous that Samsung is suing Apple for patent infringement, when by their own assessment, the iPhone 5 is eons behind Samsung’s Galaxy SIII.

Is Apple violating the ‘not-living-up-to-expectations‘ patent?

Perhaps it’s the ‘my-phone-does-way-less-things-than-yours-does‘ patent that Samsung is protecting.

Or it could be the ‘your-phone-is-almost-as-unwieldy-as-mine‘ patent, that Samsung takes issue with.

Whatever the actual basis for the suit, I doubt the case has any real merit.

From what I gather, the suit is a function of principle.

Per the statement issued earlier today,

“We have little choice but to take the steps necessary to protect our innovations and intellectual property rights.”

Little choice huh?

It has absolutely nothing to do with the billion dollar shellacking you took recently?

Yeah, right.

We all know that Samsung has to (try to) save face after having their bums handed to them.

So, they’ve trumped up some claims that Apple violated one of the 30,000 patents that Samsung owns or has acquired.

We’ve been down this road before, haven’t we?

Samsung has sued Apple in nine different countries, and has been successful a grand total of zero times.

When will they learn?

They get an “E” for effort, “T” for nice try.

That’s for all my Tribe Called Quest folks in da house!

If I were Samsung, I’d take my lumps and accept that I’ll never be the leader of the pack…

Except the pack o’ fools telling you to waste your money on these frivolous lawsuits.

Don’t you know your lawyers will follow your silly asses all the way to the bank?

Oh well, it’s your money.

Take solace in the fact that their commercials lambasting Apple are pretty funny – even to Apple fans.

But another lawsuit?

Really?

Give it a rest.

Being number <insert any number but “1″> isn’t all that bad.

Well eff you then! iOS 6 ain’t all that anyway! A review, of sorts

After a much awaited…uh…wait, yesterday, iOS 6 finally arrived.

Everyone in the office with an iPhone broke out their joints and copped the update.

Everyone except your boy, that is.

You see, long ago, I became a Jailbreak disciple.

And the first rule of Jailbreaking is that you never automatically update your OS.

Updating a jail broken phone without first acquiring the secret sauce to preserve your jailbreak, renders it obsolete.

So there was no updating anything until my crew had successfully implemented a jailbreak for it.

Consequently, I watched curiously, from the sidelines, as others eagerly updated their devices.

Like giddy children, they clutched their iPhones and sat through the (painstakingly long) process of getting the update to their devices.

Unblinking, they sat, eyes glued to their screens as slowly (oh so slowly), the progress bar made it’s way across the screen.

Muffled gasps escaped their lips, as the updates completed and they were presented with the shiny new iOS 6 welcome screen.

Wide-eyed, they stepped through the balance of the set up wizard.

Apple Id sign-in. Check.

Location services. Enabled.

Set up complete!

But wait!

What’s this?

There’s more stuff to update?

iBooks, Map, Calendar, Address Book…

Well okay…

More updates.

More wide eyes.

The anticipation was palpable.

And then…

The same old home screen.

No…no…

Wait! What do I spy?

Passbook?

What is this passbook?

Is this the thingamajiggy that lets you store all you loyalty cards and accounts?

Whoa! Somebody’s all fancy schmancy!

Is that a…

A new map!

Stop the presses!

Hmmm…interesting, no navigation dock or buttons on the bottom…it’s all map!

And they’ve re-arranged the buttons behind the map, how nice.

I wonder how turn-by-turn works…

Dude, who’s calling you?

What?!!

There are updates to the phone too!

In addition to “Accept” and “Decline” buttons there’s a little phone icon, that pulls up a bunch of options.

Don’t want to take a call, now you can (politely) tell the caller to piss off!

What will they think of next?

Ummm…you can hit “decline” now.

I’m done with this update.

Was? (“What” indignantly, for my German-challenged)

Is that a slight tint to the color of the status bar I see?

Those sly devils!

Hold on…don’t put it away quite yet…

What are you doing?

I haven’t finished reviewing iOS 6…

There’s no need to get back to work…

The clients can wait…

What about Siri?

And all the other stuff?!

What about all the other stuff!

C’mon! Don’t put your phone away!

Why you gotta be like that?

You’re right.

I shouldn’t be breathing all down your neck.

I didn’t even realize I was drooling.

Don’t worry, it won’t stain…

And you could have just told me I was wolfing…

Anyone got an Altoid?

Seriously, my eleventeen readers need this review!

Well eff you then!

iOS 6 ain’t all that anyway!

And you have dandruff!

Note: What you’ve just read was pure nonsense. If you want a real review (albiet a self-serving one) check out the What’s New in iOS 6 page at Apple. And for a step-by-step walk through to update your iPhone or iPad to iOS 6, check CNET’s insightful article.

I’ll admit it: I’m addicted. Confessions of an Apple fanboy.

My precious….

I just got this headline on my iPhone from FierceWireless: “Apple shatters iPhone pre-order sales record.”

For all the naysaying about the lackluster iPhone 5, and how disappointing the enhancements were, folks (including your’s truly) were unfazed.

Ads, like Samsung’s touting the plethora of SIII features over the paucity of the iPhone 5′s, did nothing to quench our thirst for a new iPhone.

Hate on haters! I’m still getting the iPhone 5. Compare that!

We were undaunted.

Over 2 million of us, just HAD to have the coveted device.

So when pre-orders opened on Friday, Apple doubled the previous pre-order sales record set when they released the 4S.

With iPhone 5 pre-sales moving so briskly a week before they’re set to be sold in stores, analysts are predicting that this will be the best selling iPhone of all time.

So let me say this for the record: I don’t get it.

I can’t figure out what has occurred that so many of us simply MUST have the newest of whatever Apple puts out.

No, really.

Apple ‘fanboys’ take lots of abuse for this manic loyalty to Apple devices.

Most of the comments I got from my previous post on the iPhone 5 last week, were from Android users simply hellbent on calling us out for being mindless fanatics.

Hostility aside, they may be on to something.

What is it about Apple that makes us throw caution to the wind?

I often attribute our loyalty to compatibility.

Apple products are so compatible with one another, that there’s no learning curve.

You get a new device, take it out of the box and go.

No referring to a user manual.

No need for a quick-start guide.

Just go.

But is that really it?

Perhaps it’s the allure of greater speed the latest devices offers.

Everything will be quicker.

I’ve gotten used to the speed of things when I’m not on WiFi.

And I’m on AT&T, and we all know how abysmally slow it is.

But each new iPhone holds the promise that things are going to be materially faster, WiFi or not.

Maybe it’s that we simply don’t want to be the odd man out.

Conformity is a mutha!

I remember when I got my first iPhone.

A few months later, they released the 3G, and then the 3GS.

I resisted the urge to purchase either of those devices, standing stalwart against the sweet siren song of a new Apple device.

All the while, I experienced severe iPhone envy.

Each time I pulled out my original 2G, as others fondled their newer, shinier, more feature-filled iOS devices, I was jealous.

When Apple introduced the 4G, I knew I could wait no longer.

I’m no fanboy, I thought.

I let two successive iPhone iterations passed without jumping into the fray.

But I would be denied no longer.

How I coveted my new phone.

Then Apple released the 4S, with Siri.

Eff Siri!

Who needs that know-it-all mouthy digital slut!

But then came the 5.

Any my device envy reared it’s ugly head.

Come to me, my precious…

Are we simply drinking the KoolAid?

Is there no rational explanation for our actions?

I’m just saying, I’m really at a loss.

I’m getting ready to drop two or three bills for a new phone, when there is nothing…absolutely nothing wrong with my current phone.

But it does have a four inch screen…

C’mon!

So what if the screen is bigger!

Why do we act like this?

Could it be that we’re addicted?

My wife is always telling me that I’m always on my ;.

Perhaps she’s on to something.

If you’re iPhone 5 conflicted, like me, holla back.

I can’t be the only one with this dilemma.

Help me understand why I’m so hooked on these damn devices!

Why is social media always killing somebody? Morgan Freeman is not dead.

This page has over 69,000 likes in a few days! Dayammm!

Let me start by saying that Morgan Freeman, Alfonso Ribiero, Eddie Murphy, and 50 Cent are all alive and well.

Despite the Facebook pages erected in their remembrance, and millions of Tweets repeating the erroneous information, the truth is that these folks are still among the living.

This isn’t the first (and it certainly won’t be the last) time that a celebrity’s death was falsely reported.

News of celebrity deaths travel with light speed over the internet and social media.

Before you know it, a simple falsehood becomes a well-established truth.

And we all get sucked in.

It usually starts innocently enough.

You’re trolling though your Facebook feed, and you come across an “R.I.P. ;” and you’re shocked.

Feeling compelled to share the information with your network, you immediately repost or throw up your own tribute.

Now you’re an unknowing participant in the tom foolery.

The next guy sees your post (and considers you a credible source) so they repost or Tweet the news…

And the wildfire of foolishness spreads.

But why are we so easily drawn into these ridiculous shenanigans?

Why isn’t our first response disbelief?

Why don’t we confirm before we repost?

In this age of the internet, it’s easy enough to figure out whether something is true or not.

Fact-checking isn’t just for reporters or news affiliates, its for all of us.

Especially if we’re repeating the information.

Is it that we want so bad to be the first to post something truly impactful?

Do we want to appear in the know?

Should the desire for attribution overshadow accuracy?

I don’t have the answers.

I learned about Morgan Freeman’s death from one of my frat brothers on Facebook.

Just Sad…posting false news…

I immediately Googled it, because I couldn’t believe it.

And I’m glad I did.

I’d hate to be the source of some BS.

Wouldn’t you?