Death Ode to an Electronic Device

Poor little iPod. Faithful servant; you finally died.
No tunes to jam by or any music for the ride.
Sixty gigs of memory, you had a lot of stuff.
You traveled the world with me to places generally rough.

You kept me company in ole' Douchebagistan,
as I charged you with solar cells and cooled you down with fans.
Or hooked you up to the laptop in Iraq,
or the time I left you during that fucking mortar attack.

I've had you in shitholes where things weren't so nice.
Or when we partied in Dubai with women, drinks and ice.
We froze together out on the Khyber Pass,
as you kept entertaining my frostbitten ass.

Or the time we drove with the diplomat from DoD?
That weak moron shit that persistently had to pee?
You played many things and many a mellow track...
translators now sing Sinatra tunes deep in Iraq.

With sunglasses on and shemaghs worn on our gear,
you brought us to the Green Zone where we always had a beer.
The whole team loved you as we traveled about,
no malfunctions nor anything to pout.

Remember that time we went someplace classified?
Working for the Bear where we damn near died?
You were strapped on my MOLLE vest along with my gear,
but now you're home and stopped working I fear.

With earbuds in or those glasses to watch...
those pornos we uploaded into those movie slots.
I've watched a lot of pornos on that little, teeny screen,
and strapped you in that Pelican case that I painted tan & green.

From New York to London then Paris to Rome,
you kept me entertained when I was far from home.
I kept you pristine in a protective case,
you were beloved like a priceless Ming vase.

I downloaded Farsi lessons in the weekly podcast,
and played you with my iHome when I was getting some ass.
Remember those days out in Kandahar?
When I was in the hospital instead of a bar?

We were separated after the IED attack.
You were in the gun truck strapped onto my pack.
I caught shrapnel to my leg, chest and cheek.
Those were the days when it was all so bleak.

While the bullets still rained at us from a chattering PKM...
someone shouted "Contact Right!" and the team shot at them.
My laptop was shot up but you survived the day.
As I was airlifted by dust-off, up high and away.

It was nice of the guys to fly you back to me,
and once in hand I was filled with glee.
Or that big-boobed nurse that was nice enough to share,
the music that you played when I worked for the Bear.

I miss you my friend, you made me smile a lot.
Through nights when we froze, and when it was just fucking hot.
Though you're just a product, you will still be missed.
The day that you stopped working; Fuck! I was pissed.

We all have replacements, including you.
With no experience with doo-dads, I don't have a clue.
So farewell good friend and I bid you adieu,
I do have the newer one to finally replace You.
100% (9/0)
Categories: Sex Humor
Posted by Sinatra877
4 years ago    Views: 108
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1 year ago
I hope it was awarded a CAR for all of that ; )
2 years ago
Instant Classic *****
Thank you for your service and thanks to your iPod for keeping you company in bad places.
3 years ago
hahaha you are reallly talented ;)
3 years ago
Poor little iPod, he was a good boy. I hope you took the batteries out before you buried him.
4 years ago
really nice my darling, I'd never thought that someone could write so many things about an iPod! :)
4 years ago
thank you for your service & you bring back memories of my beloved devices