Hello and huzzah, Macgasmites! Macgasmers?… Anyway, hi. I’m Corey Pandolph. Some of you may know me from my wildly successful run as TV’s only twelve year old Astronaut. Others may be familiar with my many comic strips in newspapers around the globe. The rest of you I probably owe money to, so just be patient. I’m working on it.
You’re probably asking what the hell a comedy writer/cartoonist/Fake Rockstar is doing blogging for a site about Macs and the apparent orgasms they give us? Well, really, the question should be,Â “What the Hell are any of us doing “blogging” in the first place?”, but that’s a puzzle for out grand-kids and our grand-kid’s grand-kid’s clones to figure out.
I am here for one reason and one reason only: Cash money. I mean, who blogs for free these days? Losers, that’s who. We’re in a booming economy people, one where excess is rewarded and tightwads get their heads pushed into a toilet by rich folk’s man-servants. I expect proper compensation for my services, and let’s be honest, if you run a complicated and successful site like Macgasm.net, then you are clearly full of it… Money, I mean.
So let’s blog, my Applesplooging friends…
Y’all like Apple and Apple products, do ya? Cool. I run Macs. I run iPods, iPhones, iLives and iPhotos, man! I got ’em all set up in every room of the house and when it’s late and the wife is to bed and the whiskey’s kickin’ in, I strip down to my underoos and I drool in the glow of that wonderful ambient light that is Safari. What’s showing on the browser isn’t important… or legal, but I will say this: POOP! HA! Blogs are fun…
Seriously, though, I will say that I believe my Apple products to be magic. And not the sad, drunk uncle-with-a-dead-rabbit-in-a-hat kind of magic. I’m talking David effin Copperfield, back with Claudia Schiffer magic. I’m sayin’ my mac could make the Statue of Liberty disappear!
Because I have Photoshop. It’s good for that sorta thing.
I believe this magic – my electronically creamed jeans friends – lies in the fact that these machines exist at all. The very idea that I can check email, write a blog and Photoshop my sister’s head on a chiken’s body, all while eating sushi, IN THE SUSHI RESTARAUNT is purely stuff of the Jetsons! Google it, young ones, you’ll like it. And while you’re at, Google “The Young Ones”… But, back to my point: Do I know how Photoshop, Dreamweaver, iSync and iPhoto work? No. Not a clue. Do I care? Well, a little, but… Look, they work. And they work for my comedic, shipping, receiving, banking and naked lady needs, and that to me, is magic in a titanium box.
I recently bought an iPod touch and friends… I want to crack that baby open and make sweet love to the battery! But I won’t… Because that would void the warranty. But I’m tellin’ ya that this little shiny, glass sliver of ‘lectric lust is pure witchcraft! Want to check your email? POP? Webmail? SquirrelMail? Done, cubed. Websites? Done. Need a restaurant, chiropractor, lube job and jerked chicken? Done, done, done and soooo done. And how do we find all this? Through gorgeous little buttons, lined up nice and symmetrical, with rounded edges and just the right amount of shading for that nice, 3-D Web 2.0 look. And the colors… Oh, the colors, children! There is a rainbow of RGB, websafe colors that cause a responsible, clean-shaven man to say things like, “I can finally leave this marriage, I have an iPod touch.”
It’s like Apple is selling snake oil that is actual oil, for your snakes! And it works!
The coolest thing to me, however – the one thing that I think many fans don’t realize – is that with the iPod touch, Apple has successfully replicated one of the most genius interfaces known to man. I can see the wheels turning… You know exactly what I’m about to type, so let’s say it together… On 3: 1… 2… The McDonald’s cash register. HA!
Back when calculators were the new iPod, someone in a McD’s board meeting figured out that if you replace the buttons on a cash register with little pictures of the actual items, that #1: you don’t have hire literate people and #2: the time it takes your order to reach the “kitchen” is nearly doubled. Thus doubling sales, profits and the waist band of America. Supersize that, Morgan Spurlock.
But this is not a place for commentary on fat people, fast food or my unquenched thirst to be liked. This is a place for Macs, and those who love them… In a biblical sense, I guess… Seriously, what happens when I Macgasm? What do I feel? Anxiety? Confusion? False love? Will I feel remorse afterward? Will I head to the fridge for a beer and wonder what (or who) I just did? And what do I need to do to/with my Mac to feel a Macgasm? I mean, I’m no stallion, but the ports in the new iMacs are awfully small… And electrified, I imagine. Just… yikes.
Well, whatever it is, I’m in. Because I love Macs… And blogs are free publicity for my many levels of vanity.
Take care, my little Appletinis. Go home and hug your Mac and maybe, just maybe this time it will love you back.
Yours in Pontificational Ridicularityâ„¢,
Corey “Fake Rockstar” Pandolph