The iPhone 7 Is Proof That Masturbation & Work Don’t Mix

Masturbation is healthy. It’s a necessary practice both physically and scientifically. Spiritually, maybe not so much, depending on which religion you choose to follow (if you decide to pursue one).

Singular sexual pleasure also has a barrage of purported benefits. It can help lower blood pressure, decrease stress, provide better stamina, avoid unsuspecting thots, prevent STDs, thwart unwanted children, and provide an adequate remedy for Blue Balls. Habitual jerking may even increase one’s productivity under certain circumstances (although it usually doesn’t). It’s essentially the fast-food, ultra-portable, ugly version of sex. You can practice it any place where privacy (and decency) can be secured.

But there are times when stroking your man pole produces undesirable effects, like undeniable guilt or the perpetual loneliness one feels once they’ve ejaculated. Add to that list the new iPhone 7. You see, while the newest modernization of Apple’s famed device has a bevy of technological advancements, two updates, in particular, are clearly the result of someone’s misguided handy work. (See what I did there?)

I’m referring to these gotdamn wireless earphones, the omitted headphone jack, and this water-resistant screen. At first glance, these seem like inculpable updates to America’s most popular wireless device. But I’m not falling for this shit. This new iPhone has dick-in-hands problems written all over it.

I understand that tech companies are in an arms race to make everything wireless. And, for what it’s worth, wireless headphones and a screen resistant to splashes are useful ideas. Most activities are more enjoyable when you don’t have to fiddle with cumbersome audio cables and your device is impervious to accidental encounters with liquid. Like running through the streets with or without your woes. Or dancing half-naked, drenched in sweat, in a boxing gym.

But Apple’s updates fit NONE of these categories. Tim Cook & Co. have literally just cut the cord to the EarPods and stuffed them with Bluetooth connectivity. They don’t sound better than their predecessor, yet cost more and have a battery life of a mere 5 hours. Not to mention that you’re likely to lose these shits in the toilet while taking a piss.

Furthermore, water-resistant devices are fucking useless. It seems cool and all, but I don’t need that shit. I need something WATER-PROOF. I need a phone that will still work after my toddler decides to toss it in a cup of milk, or a device that functions after I regrettably jump in a pool with it in my pocket.

Which leads me to believe that the only reason for Apple’s latest iteration of their flagship wireless device is courtesy of an engineer that got his man shaft tangled in wires while assaulting his friendly weapon to Big Booty Hoes 6 in the bathroom during his lunch break. Let’s call him Paul.

You see, this imaginary muthafucka Paul was probably minding his own gotdamn business on a Tuesday — because everything about Tuesdays suck, except tacos that are two dollars — when some clown-ass simp stressed him the fuck out. Maybe it was over deadlines or some shit like that. Anyway, Paul needed to escape for a little bit to find his inner G and get back to his envious job of designing the new iPhone. Only, he had a meeting in 15 minutes. So, instead of leaving the building to catch some fresh air, he retreated to the quiet sanctuary of the men’s bathroom to rub one out.

After massaging his hand-held stormtrooper for a whopping 5 minutes, Paul was ready to ride euphoric bliss to Jizzville, when suddenly he was startled by another patron in the adjacent stall. Scared by his neighbor’s violent shitting, Paul panicked, and attempted to abort operation Cyclop’s eruption. But it was too late. Paul reached the point of no return. While trying to disembark from his erotic solitude, Paul’s meat sack became tangled in the wires of his pristine EarBuds as his unborn seeds rocketed onto the phone’s screen, rendering it both disgusting and unusable. Paul then lifted his pants bunched around his ankles and began running water over the now defunct cellular device.

Pissed as a muthafucka, Paul stormed from the restroom. He headed straight to his cubicle to retrieve his limited edition Samurai Xacto Knife en route to this pointless staff meeting.

Paul kicked in the frosted glass doors to the upscale conference room, tossed his dripping iPhone on the dark walnut, 16-foot long table, and slammed his fists against its surface like an angry gorilla. The 8 attendees were aghast at the uncharacteristic nature of their colleague.

“You want a gotdamn iPhone 7. Here’s the new iPhone 7,” Paul screamed. On cue, the raging engineer raised the cumbersome EarPods clenched in his left hand (his Palmula), retrieved the limited edition cutting tool with his right, and severed the dangling cords with one fell swoop.

Paul then grabbed a toothpick from the middle of the table, shoved it in the headphone jack of the soiled handheld device, and covered it with some Scotch tape that he hastily grabbed from the console table behind him.

With everyone’s curiosity now directed towards Paul, the porn watching enthusiast exclaimed, “Cut these fucking cords and make the front of this motherfucker airtight,” like a real one.

The room stood silent, replete with bewilderment and awe. Then, from the depths of awkwardness, Tim Cook pushed away from the opposite end of the table, stood up, and began a slow, dramatic clap. “Bravo,” said Cook. The remaining tenants of the boardroom joined in, creating a raucous applause.

Of course, I’m sure none of this shit actually happened, but it’s the only logical reason I can muster as to why Apple decided to render our cars’ auxiliary outlet obsolete. It doesn’t matter that I can purchase an adapter to continue using my existing headphones. That’s just more money that I don’t feel compelled to fork over to a mid-thirties hipster at my nearby Apple store.

Of all the shit they could’ve improved — like I dunno, say a bulletproof glass casing, a battery that lasts for weeks without a charge, or at the very least, a feature that allows me to make Siri’s voice sound like Morgan Freeman’s — you gotdamn muthafuckas chose THIS SHIT?! Okay, Tim. Fine. Fuck you, but fine. Just take my money, now. And let me know when that 7S comes out.