Freaking Angry Birds. Stop Ruining Our Nation

Let’s get real guys. America is a really weird place. We put sweaters on our pets, watch the Kardashian’s do absolutely nothing for hours upon hours, do the cha-cha slide and most of all, we fling stupid looking birds at round, green pigs.

Imagine if you were trying to explain the game Angry Birds to someone who had no idea what it was:

Angry Birds

Angry Birds (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“What’s that game?”
“Oh. It’s Angry Birds.”
“What’s the point?”
“I’m trying to kill all those pigs because they took my eggs.”
“Those don’t look like birds….that one is triangular-shaped and that other one looks like a bomb.”
“Well, that’s because the bomb one explodes and blows up those wooden block and the triangle one can plow through the wood block.”
“But why do they need to?”
“To kill the pigs.”
“Those don’t look like pigs. Where are their legs?”
“I don’t know, I guess they’re obese and you can’t see their legs anymore.”
“But why are you trying to kill them?”
“Because they stole the bird eggs.”
“To do what with them?”
“Eat them I guess.”
“Pigs don’t eat eggs….”
“These do.”
“Why does killing the pigs get the eggs back? And why are they balanced so precariously on cliffs and blocks?”
“It just does. And because they hide the eggs there to keep the birds from getting them back.”
“Why do you have to use a slingshot? Don’t birds know how to fly?”
“Not these ones. They have tiny wings.”
“I don’t know. They just do.”
“This game is stupid….why are they in space now?”
“Oh. This is the new game Angry Birds Space.”
“Leave me alone. I’m learning physics and the value of perseverance.”
“Sure….What are those stars for?”
“You get stars when you win.
“For what?”
“Just for winning.”
“How do you get 3 stars?”
“By getting a really high score.”
“How do you get a high score?”
“You have to kill all the pigs with as few birds as possible. Then you win.”

Seriously though guys. Why am I so obsessed with this game? It’s the world’s most ridiculous game and I can’t stop playing. I’ve spent approximately all day long, playing the same levels over and over trying to get all 3 stars. I have a problem. And apparently so does the rest of the world as it’s always the number one downloaded game in the app store. It’s a brain numbing game and we’re all playing it. We’re slowly getting dumber as a nation and this game is at fault. Kids aren’t studying anymore, they’re playing Angry Birds. College students aren’t going to class…because they’re playing angry birds. And numerous grown adults are missing work because, you guessed it, those darn Angry Birds. It’s no wonder we have a terrible economy. We can’t stop flinging birds at round green pigs. We’re all going to turn into bloated parodies of ourselves while we sit and stare at our smart phones for hours on end and not a single one of us cares. Because it has sucked us in and we can’t stop. Ever.

But I don’t really care. I’m not going to stop until I get 3 stars on every level, I’m not. Because I am part of the Angry Birds problem.

Help. Me.

Smartphones: A Love Story

English: iphone Deutsch: iphone

Image via Wikipedia

To my iPhone:

I know many people love you and your neat abilities to do lots of things at once. You make phone calls. I can Wikipedia on you.  When I have a question I can just use you to look it up immediately. But I think I might hate you. I know what you’re thinking, “Who hates phones? They help people stay in contact with loved ones who are far distances away. You can talk to them like they’re right next to you even when they’re 3 trillion miles away. And why did you title this blog ‘a love story’ if you hate me? You’re such a weirdo.” Well first of all iPhone, those are very valid reason for your existence and I appreciate the work you do for me. But there are three main reasons for this hatred of you.

Reason #1: People Call Me
I enjoy talking to people mostly. Ok, no that’s a lie. I don’t really enjoy talking to people. I do, but I don’t. It really just depends on the setting. (also I tend to be really indecisive) To me talking on the phone is like being stuck in an empty room with another person. We’re both there, we both know the other one is there and someone (who is not me) decides a conversation needs to happen. I’m perfectly content with the awkward silence but noooo, we need to talk to each other. So then we participate in that tragic event know as small talk. I hate small talk as much as I hate phones. “Oh, how are you? blah blah blah it’s cold outside, what’s new?” So stupid. (ask my opinion on the Jersey Shore and I’ll talk for hours, that’s no small talk) And I’m just really terrible at small talk. Ask me any question, I respond with one word. It’s my little cross to bear. So let’s take my incredible lack of small talk skills and add the lack of visual cues, then you have a phone call with me. I’m almost positive that every conversation I have on the phone, the person on the other side is rolling their eyes and mocking me. I don’t have a logical reason for thinking this. Perhaps it’s paranoia. (it could also be because I may, or may not be guilty of phone mocking a time or two) But because I can’t see a person’s face on the phone I just know they’re mocking my every word.

Reason #2: People Text Me
Now I would much rather text someone than talk to them on the phone but there is way too much pressure involved in it. Someone texts me pictures of their new baby I respond “OH SO CUTE!!!!!!!!” with too many exclamation points, I’m a creeper, too few exclamation points, I hate their baby. If I respond too quickly to a message I seem desperate and lonely, if I wait too long I’m a jerk. If I write ‘lol’ at the wrong time, we’re no longer friends because I laughed at the fact that your grandma died. So. Much. Pressure. And to top it all off, my sarcasm is not read through texts at all. I’m sure I’ve probably offended people a time or two because of my sarcastic responses. So I’ve taken to throwing a ‘ha’ at the end of sarcasm. But that makes me feel conceited, because then I’m laughing at myself. And I tend to get too wordy on messages. No one wants to read a novel when all they ask is ‘what’s up’. But if I respond with ‘not much. you?’ then I seem disinterested. Do you see what I mean? What is proper texting etiquette? Are there classes for this? Can I learn the proper way to text without pitting out a t-shirt because I’m worrying about responding properly? Seriously. I can’t handle the pressure. Many different times I have rewritten a message at least 12 times because I tend to over-think things, therefore I’m convinced everything I say is over-thought by the person who receives it….I might need counseling.

Reason #3: I No Longer Have Time-Management Skills
Since the conception of the smartphone, I can play games everywhere I go. This doesn’t seem like a bad thing, but it is. All those past times when I’ve had to utilize the skill of ‘patience’ are no more. Now if I have to wait somewhere, I just pull out my phone and play some Angry Birds. Next thing you know I’ve been sitting at the dentist for 3 hours. It only felt like 15 and now I’ve completely missed them calling my name and my teeth will be dirty for another week. Smartphones have also increased the amount of time I spend in the bathroom. I swear I spend hours in there now playing Words With Friends. I go in when the sun is up and come out to darkness. I’m out of control. I can’t stop running from those darn demon monkeys until I’ve beaten my high-score on Temple Run. Heaven forbid my phone dies when I’m out somewhere. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore if I have to wait. There’s a good chance I might just have a panic attack if I have to wait for a table at a restaurant and I can’t play Doodle Jump. It’s eating away my life!

All that being said I still love you.  If someone tries to take you away, I will hit them. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I hate everything about you, but I don’t ever want to be away from you. It’s like you’re my child. You’re annoying, loud, and you follow me everywhere I go. But I still love you, in spite of all your flaws. I never want you to leave me.

But seriously. Don’t ring. I don’t want to talk on you. Ever.