Come and listen to my story 'bout my wife named Ange,
A poor buccaneer, greatest momma in the land,
A few weeks ago we were driving 'round NZ*,
With Ange and her phone in the shotgun seat.
Spoken: An iPhone 6 that is. Black and gold, it was free (when she signed a two-year contract with a company that is partly owned by...Satan?!?).
*Sorry, that's "zee," British (and many Canadian) friends.
Related anecdote: As we were driving into Christchurch (on the left-hand side of the road), I failed to signal an abrupt lane change after inadvertently activating my windshield wipers for the 314th time.
The driver behind me had just honked his horn -- fair enough -- when a sketchy-looking woman stepped off the sidewalk in front of us and darted into our lane. She gestured at me to roll down my window, which at home in Toronto I would never do. This being New Zealand, however, I figured she wanted to offer some helpful tips on the proper use of windshield wipers.
Instead, she jabbed her index finger at me and barked: “Why did you toot at me?!?”
“I didn’t, er, toot at you,” I replied, taken aback. Behind me, my daughters giggled at the use of “toot.”
“You’re an American liar!” the woman declared loudly.
I wish I had corrected her on both counts, but all I could muster was a swift denial. “It wasn’t me, it was the guy behind me!”
“Frucking...framerican...friars,” she mumbled, and spun on her heel to face the poor tooter.
Now, back to your regularly scheduled earworm.
Well the first thing you know Ange is snapping from her seat
The kinfolk said, "iCloud storage isn't free..."
Angela replied, "Keep it zipped and watch the road,
“We just hit the Instagram motherlode...”