My phone can talk with other dimensions.
     while yours can’t even get a dial tone.

My phone give gives me orgasms every time I pick it up
     while yours gives warts and blisters.

My phone takes me everywhere with it
     while yours is always lost.

My phone knows all my secrets
     while yours is a loose-lipped beyatch.

My phone cooks me dinner and cleans up the mess
     while yours takes dumps and doesn’t flush.

My phone encourages my every creative whim
     while yours points out every misplaced comma.

My phone lets me sleep in late
     while yours just sleeps…and sleeps.

My phone will last 1,000,000 years
     while yours will die before this poem ends.

My phone calls my pet name, Sugar Arse,
     while yours never even calls.

My phone recharges from the love I have for it
     while yours hides from all adoration.

My phone doesn’t believe in superfluous notifications
     while yours doesn’t know how to shut up.

My phone is an award-winning slam poet
     while yours can’t even do speech-to-text conversion.

My phone sips Dom Pérignon
     while yours slurps Night Train.

My phone is the key to every door
     while yours just fumbles in the lock.

In no uncertain terms:
  Let me make this perfectly clear:
    Don’t get bamboozled:
      All your sheepish arguments aside:
        Straight up:
          Never mind the fanboying:
            You typical, clueless turd:

My phone is fucking incredible
     while yours is a piece of shit.