Butt Dials

/ bensbitterblog

Must have been yesterday.

When my parents asked me where I wanted to go for my senior trip with the family, I of course said Cincinnati. So maybe it wasn’t the most typical place to go, but I am not the most typical person. I just so happened to be a big fan of the Cincinnati Reds, and I loved amusement parks. Cincinnati has a park called Kings Island that has some pretty rad roller coasters, so that was the place.

I had saved all my money from working at Target and my paper route, so as far as I know, I was the richest I had ever been in my life. Meaning I had $140 of disposable income and I was going to spend it all. On souvenir’s, Red’s Gear, and all manner of junk food. On the first day, I attacked King’s Island with reckless abandon. I rode all the rides, I drank in the atmosphere and had the time of my life. When I got off the water ride that splashed all the people on the bridge, I reached for my back pocket. Bitterness learched into stomach. The lump that contained my life savings at the time was missing. Frantically, I asked people if they had seen it, asked the lost and found if they had a wallet turned in and I knew for sure they were hiding it from me.

All my money, my social security card, my senior pictures of all the hot girls, my library card, gone. My life was shattered. I learned something that day. First of all, however pickpocketed it is going to pay, whether in this life or the next. I will not rest until I find you. I will get that money and pictures back. And the other lesson is, don’t carry your wallet in your back pocket.

Another thing you shouldn’t do? Carry your phone in your back pocket. I have a phone, but it isn’t for the purposes of talking on it. I don’t know how that app appeared on my phone and I’m doing my best to delete it, but it won’t delete. Anyways, there is a reason why I don’t give this number out.

For some reason though, the few people that do have it call me sometimes with it. Sometimes they have a reason, but most of the time, it is only their butt that is trying to call me. In just one day, (yesterday) 100% of my parents butts decided to call me. Their butts are apparently highly intelligent users of phones, because they themselves both struggle to figure out how to use the phone. Yet, here they are, with no reason to call me, calling me with their butts.

This creates a problem. Now that they have called me, I have to call them back. The conversation starts out in a very awkward fashion, as I have to talk to them about their butts, but then they decide they need to talk more. And they want to know things. Like what is going on with my life. And no one wants to hear or talk about that.

I just need them to use what they butts are made for. Sitting on the couch and being comfortable. If we start letting our butts do anything more than that, then they will want to start getting benefits, like 401K and time off. And my butt can’t start thinking that it is allowed any sort of day off from sitting.

So folks, take your phones out of your back pockets and put them in your front, or in your purse or even in your hands, because this butt dialing must stop.

ARRRRRRGGGHHHHHH

Bitter Butt Dialing Victim Ben

33 thoughts on “Butt Dials”

  1. Pingback: Sculpted and Vitrified Hot Links | Tacky Raccoons

  2. How does someone’s left cheek have such dexterity? If it can punch in a phone number, can it text as well? I understand that people have hidden talents, BUTT…
    Cincinnati was a great place to grow up because Skyline Chili 5-ways.

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  3. I mostly just feel awful about you having your wallet stolen. That happened to me once too–I didn’t lose any money, but you have to have a birth certificate to get the social insurance card and driver’s licence, and they were all gone. Took forever to replace them, let alone replace my trust in the world (she said over-dramatically, as one does:-)).

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    • Yeah, I’m still pretty bitter about it. It was my freedom money and I was going to spend it all on the best stuff. I want to beat the guy that did it to me. Or arrest the amusement park that made me lose in the water or something.

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    • Yeah, I thought the same thing. I keep trying to tell them to get rid of the phone app, but they keep insisting that people want to chat with each other’s voices. I use mine for games and pictures that I delete right after I regretfully take them.

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  6. I had a friend who kept her phone in her purse. She’d go out partying, and somehow, her phone would dial us at midnight to one. She has this unusual, high laugh. She uses that laugh A LOT, and uses it MORE when she’s partying. But we would listen for a bit, determine it was her, and gather some tidbits to mention the next time we saw her.

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  8. HA! 😀 This made me snort-laugh, Ben! 😛

    I’ve had women boob-dial me before. Yeah…not sure I even want to know! 😮 😀 Oh, and I’ve had people who ARE boobs dial me. 😛

    Okay…I’ll admit it…sometimes I put my phone on vibrate and then put it down the front of my pants. Then when people call me I can honestly say, “Oh, god! It’s a thrill to hear from you!” 😀

    HUGS!!! 🙂

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  9. My butt is too stupid, technologically-wise to make calls… Thank God for that!! Already bad enough that I “have” to have that phone app on my camera.

    I’m totally with you on that one!

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  10. This is hilarious, that your parents are too technologically challenged to figure out how to call you, yet their butts do it like they were born to it. I hate butt-dials, there is nothing worse than hollering “Hello? Hello?? HELLO????” at someone’s butt. 🙂

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