Some people are just not meant to own a cute little digital camera. Evidence Exhibits A and B. Or perhaps digital cameras have an 'AA' circuit that punishes use of the camera while consuming alcohol. Nevertheless, my camera is busted. Again.
After drinks at B Bar (can I please call it Bowery Bar?), the camera was needed to take a picture of Mister Offender being cute in the cab. Apparently, my bony booty (it's actually quite lovely, if you like small butts) had applied too much pressure on the little Elph and the display screen just emitted a pink, white, and black (like the new M.O. color scheme!) conceptual art. The photos still turn out fine, but the screen is jacked.
But maybe this is a turning point. No, I won't be stopping the consumption of consumables anytime soon, but at least this time when I purchased the camera, I also bought into the 'service plan' scheme.
And there might be more good karma coming, but I need to find a Next to know for sure. If the karma turns out all bad, I'll be soon purchasing a huge retro-Polaroid, certain not to break under my awesome ass.
