Thanks to the ubiquity of cellphones, horror and suspense writers have a new set of cliches to work with when stranding or isolating a character. Unless that character is like me and owns an iphone, then the act of getting a signal and making a successful call becomes a far-fetched plot-point. But my point isn’t to rant about how, as a phone, my iphone sucks. Although it does. It sucks, a lot. It sucks so much it should be investigated as a public safety issue. My phone rarely works in my house. I’ve had perfect service on my AT&T blackberry in my house for years, but I switched to an iphone and now, nothing. Which means I have to keep paying for a landline, which aggravates me.
My point is just to post this, because it’s funny: