(Oscar Nominated Documentary The Funeral At Bottom Of Page)
It brings me a great amount of sorrow to announce the passing of my friend, the president of FaHooNews.com, and most importantly, my iPhone - Mr. iPhone. His body was discovered on February 14th at approximately 9:05 PM in the pocket of a pair of basketball shorts. Unfortunately for Mr. iPhone, those shorts were submerged underwater in a washing machine. By the time I realized where he was, no amount of rice could save him; He was gone.
It's hard to say for sure, but we like to believe the death was quick and painless. The autopsy results ruled the death an accident and the result of water asphyxiation. Police announced that no charges would be pursued. The chiefs direct quote was, "Mr Bigleys has suffered enough from the public shame of using an iPhone 5 in 2020 as well as the enormous cost he's going to have to eat to buy a new phone. He could easily swallow his pride and buy a cheaper alternative to an iPhone, but he's stated that he'd rather die than recieve green texts."
Mr. iPhone was both a free spirit and a premier risk-taker. For years he free balled life with no case. No amount of cement face plants could take that mother fucker down. So when I discovered he was taking a swim, I thought he'd for sure come out on top. This wasn't even the first swim he had taken, so to find out he had passed away was shocking.
What I loved most about Mr. iPhone was the fact that he never let his small stature bring him down. What he lacked in technological advancements, he made up with spunk. People commonly used derogatory terms like, "Are you still using an iPhone 5?" It always disgusted me how awful people's words could be. You don't see me calling little people, midgets – At least not directly to their faces. Show some fucking manners and say that shit behind his back. He wasn't an iPhone 5; he was an iPhone 11 Mini without any of the features that a new iPhone offers.
Despite being technologically inferior, Mr. iPhone lived a happy, long life; Nearly seven years (135 in iPhone years). He was born in 2013 in the hands of a poverty-stricken Apple worker in Shenzhen, China. To find a better life, he immigrated to America and was purchased by Mr Bigleys in late 2013. For three years, he performed his duties masterfully but finally decided to hang it up in 2016.
Not too long into retirement, Mr iPhone had a nagging urge to make a comeback. Even though he commonly overheated after sitting on the charger for too long, he felt as though he still had more left in the tank. While most phones find comfort in spending the rest of their days inside the junk drawer, never to be used again, it was clear that type of complacent lifestyle wouldn't cut it.
Following my other iPhone's tragic 4-foot skydiving accident in 2017, Mr. iPhone made his triumphant return. Even with the deck stacked against him, he never allowed his limitations to define who he was. Like Jordan on the Wizards; He may not have been in his prime, but he was still a highly productive member of the team.
Don't get me wrong; towards the end, it was clear he had lost a step. His stamina was below subpar; Two hours off the charger being his max effort. Dementia had also kicked in. Mr. iPhone had his fair share of bad days when his maps were convinced we were in Kentucky, when in fact, we were still in Michigan. His memory had diminished to 75 photos and four apps. He'd commonly blank out, unable to hold the spot of two Safari tabs at once. With old age also came stubbornness, regularly picking and choosing when he wanted to get service.
Despite our disagreements, he played a crucial role in the development of FaHooNews.com. Mr. iPhone was my right-hand man and the holder of all my funny ideas. Anything I thought could be a potential FaHoo article went straight into his notes. As my most trusted partner, he kept those notes locked down - unlike my current blabbermouth of a phone:
Granted, a majority of those ideas were absolute trash, many were offensive, and a few probably flagged a couple FBI agents. People would often tell me to back that old hag up, but I refused to believe there would be a life without him. I mean, loyalty is everything to me. What kind of message would I be sending if I kept a backup at all times? For the same reasons the Patriots traded Garoppolo, I decided to put my trust in the one who had been loyal to me for so long. Unfortunately for the world (6 people who read the site), though, those ideas have passed away with Mr. iPhone.
When his death was confirmed, I felt as though FaHoo died with him. I took to Twitter to announce his passing and started to make pre-excuses why FaHoo would suck harder than it already does. Luckily for me, my loyal supporter(s) let me know they didn’t have time for my shit. Aldus - an esteemed Nazi hunter, and avid FaHoo reader - swiftly reminded me to stop being a bitch.
Thank God for Aldus. Sometimes you need a swift kick in the nuts. I could sit around and mope for the rest of my days, or I could stop being a fucking pussy. It was time that I get back on that horse, if not for me, at least for the memory of Mr. iPhone.
We've been through too much to stop now. People depend on me to be the smartest hypocrite in the room. Who's going to be the one to share the history of an IG model? What would have happened if I never bravely opened up about my experience as a Modern Warfare veteran? And what about the nurses? Before my groundbreaking article, nobody knew that the profession was tougher than terminal cancer.
That got me thinking about the incredible memories we had together. Like that time he decided to take a nap while my brother-in-law and I attended a gentleman's club on a Sunday, causing me to miss all my sister's texts. Sure, it got me kicked out of Thanksgiving dinner that next week, but what a story. Mr. iPhone was always about the content, even if it risked the relationship with my family.
Then there was that time when he took a little snooze at an inopportune time while I was by myself in Detroit completely blackout. Or all those times I blatantly ignored people's texts and blamed it on my iPhone 11(5) Mini. Now I have to own up to my shit…Fuck.
For most dead iPhones, I'd simply toss it into one of those recycling bins so they could dump it in a landfill. But there was no way I wasn't giving Mr. iPhone a proper burial. I wanted to take it upon myself to pollute this earth. With this motivation, I got together with FaHoo's CFO and CRO to send Mr. iPhone out in style. In honor of the legendary phone, we've created a potential Oscar-winning documentary below…RIP Mr. iPhone, I love you.
**If I win the Oscar I will thank every single one of my 24 Twitter followers. Bet.**