#tech rage

Take Apple: I'm texting my spouse and it'll change an acronym into the whole phrase. Did they not consider that I don't want them telling me what I meant?

And don't get me fucking started on the foisting of "ai" into everything. The fuckers are going to turn me into a luddite if this shit doesn't stop. Looks like when my phone croaks in a few years I'll just have to get the same model because anything newer will have Gemini or GPT or Aquarius or whatever.

A digital scream into the indifferent void of modern convenience

I did not spend $800 on a glorified anxiety rectangle just for you to forget how time works.

"Do Not Disturb" means pause notifications, not teleport my existence into the ether. It does not mean “ghost my groomer for an hour” while I sit five feet away from your smug, glassy face, wondering why silence feels suspicious.

You're not mysterious. You're not deep. You're just broken with a software update and a superiority complex.

I ask for one thing—just one—to wake up, turn on, and stop pretending you're a sentient monk on a vow of silence. I don’t need enlightenment. I need my damn texts.

You had one job.

And yes, I see you now—acting innocent, flickering to life with your fake concern, suddenly delivering the entire backlog of missed messages like a guilty dog bringing you a chewed-up shoe and wondering if that counts as an apology.

It does not.

You are a slab of untrustworthy plastic. A vibrating paperweight. A liar in my pocket. And if I could throw you into the sea without losing access to my playlists, you’d already be fish food.

Consider this your final warning: Next time, I’m buying a flip phone. Or a raven.