After partying all night at a party thrown at my uncles house, I was abruptly woken up by Cornholio who for whatever reason woke up only 4 hours after we had gone to sleep.
We had spent the night at my uncles house to avoid the long drive back.
He was looking for his phone which had mysteriously dissapeared from the table next to the couch that he had been sleeping on.
I reached down to the floor to grab my jeans and get my cell phone out of my back pocket only to find, that my phone had also gone missing.
We used another phone to call his phone, which oddly enough we found in a bathroom upstairs along with my digital camera.
My phone, however, was either turned off or the battery had died because it went straight to voice mail.
Of course, this all lead me to the conclusion that my phone had been stolen. Which really pissed me the fuck off.
I never realized how dependent I had become of my phone, but I'm suffering from major withdrawal.
Luckily, my phone was insured and my uncle was nice enough to pay for my deductible (I wouldn't have asked for it if I wasn't as broke as I am. Not to mention, if he can afford a Lamborghini, $50 is pretty much chump change, right?)
Doesn't change the fact that practically my whole life was on that god damn phone and since I hadn't sync it recently, I have lost a pretty decent chunk of my life.
So what's the lesson I've learned here?
Sleep with your phone in your underwear, and sync often.
I know eventually, who is responsible for my missing phone is going to be outed. I'm too much of an asshole to just let it go.
And when I find out who the fuck is responsible for this shit, I'm gonna kick some sorry phone stealer ass! Fucker!