gimmie a bottle of anything and a glazed Doughnut... to go

The lovely Fishfucker has a couple of good posts up about his entry into Mobloggn', or, if you remove the obfuscation of silly corporate-produced jargon, uploading stuff to your site with a cell phone instead of a computer.

I still don't have a cell phone, camera-enabled or otherwise. I don't want to be that reachable. I like to just show up unannounced and upset people. You cell phone people secretly think that's what non-cell phone people are up to, and I'm here to tell you that you're right. You look so cute when you get all flustered. Listen, not everything in life can be push-button convenient, and we think it's healthy that you don't forget that, so you won't be all surprised when you suddenly go blind from your brain tumor.

Much like the Amish, who curiously have embraced the cell phone, or as they call them 'them devil speakn' rocks', I'm real picky about what technology I run with.
For me, the yardstick of technological achievement is the nonstick fry pan.
The nonstick fry pan is revolutionary. The top of the technology food chain right after fire, second only to the technological leap of Food Which Requires Only Water.
Egg whites, turkey burgers, pancakes... larger cockroaches that I want to learn good and proper all about trespassn' when I'm in that kooky Bond villain mood... all of these things were shifted instantly from the "Too Big Of A Pain In The Ass To Consider Seriously" column to the "I Can Do It Without Turning my Attention Away From Watching The Osbourne Children Emotionally Implode" column simply by eliminating the need for lubrication.

Such is the glory of Teflon. I've gone from eating dry Grape Nuts out of the box with my fist to eating freshly made and dropped blueberry pancakes off of the floor with my fist.
Pancakes are especially satisfying, because they now come in packets which require only water, which brings my favorite two technologies together, a marriage the likes of which not seen since the invention of cartoon porn.

When deciding what new geek toy I should buy, I run the improvements it offers my life up against the teflon pan yardstick.
Can I clean it only by wanly running it under some tapwater weeks after I've forgotten about it? Can it cook up heroin when I'm out of spoons? Can I tame my Alzheimer's crazy Mom with it? Can it be used to beat the Jehovah's Witnesses at my front door into a bloody, god-renouncing pulp?

The cell phone can do none of these things, even with the fancy pants little camera.

They cram a phazer in there, then I'll buy one.