The Original Blackberry weighed in at like 7 pounds. It had email and a screen big enough to house an IKEA Ektorp. And that was pretty much it. But that didn't stop you from putting it on the table at Nobu next to your actual cell phone, for all the world to see.
One day while you were drinking a Clearly Canadian you were shocked to see your assistant's boyfriend furiously typing away on something that didn't flip open like a kickstand. You knew this moment was coming. It was finally here. People were getting averageberries. And what's worse, their Abercrombieberries did more than the prickberry Bain gave you. They even made phone calls.
Smaller, more powerful, cheaper mallberries started showing up on the street. They infiltrated the chattering classes, the slums, and soon, teenagers. It wasn't long before every MetroPCS on the block was slinging rockberries.
Soon every Brandy, Buzz, and Xander could get updates on clearance blowouts at (gulp) Hot Topic, Yellowcard concert presales, and Thirsty Thursdays at Minor League baseball games with their slutberries and Clarksonberries.
Gregberries and Claireberries from down the streetberries brought them over for potluckberries. Kids talked on theirs over their morning Frankenberries. Every yoberry and broberry was talking on their Jagerberry in Burberry at the barberry.
"I have a blackberry."
"Me too."
"It's amazing how many different ways you can communicate on it."
"It is."
"Yeah."
"Uh huh."
"Well cool, I'm gonna run."
"Yeah. Cool. Talk to you later."
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