I had one of the first cell phones that came with a camera on it.

It was magical.

I could take a photo of anything, just by pointing my cell phone at it, and would instantly get a 1 x 1.5 inch picture showing my photography skills.

I was the envy of all my friends.

“Dude, take a look at this sunset I just took a pic of on my phone.”

Whoa, my mind is blown future-boy.

“Right? Pretty awesome. It’s got enough memory for me to take, like, 10 pictures.”

You are so awesome, Steve.

The only reason I had a picture phone, is because my mom bought one and received another one free. She gave it to me.

So, for the first 3 months, all I could do is send pictures to my mom.

It sucked.

But, as technology goes, people catch up, and my friend David was the first friend of mine to get a picture phone as well.

It’s on.

I sent him pictures of everything.

• food.
• beer.
• my face happy
• my face sad
• fat people
• skinny people
• hot girls
• my dog.

Technology had no bounds.

Then, on a night when we were all drinking at his apartment, I decided I would send the funniest picture of all.

The phone had different frames for your pictures- a happy birthday picture with balloons, a party picture with confetti and hats, a sad clown, your face in the Mona Lisa, and last but not least- A “Wanted: Dead Or Alive” frame.

In this frame you could take a picture, and have it posted on a poster that says, “Wanted: Dead Or Alive.”

Quite a novelty.

Well, drunk 21-year-old Steve thought it would be hilarious to take a picture of his own penis, and frame it in the “Wanted: Dead Or Alive” backdrop.

…and I did.

It was hysterical. Right?

Because, not only was the frame implying that my member was worth 500 gold coins dead, it was worth 1,000 alive! That’s comedy gold!

I could barely hold my excitement as I hit the ‘send’ button and stared outside to see the look on David’s face when he received it.

…waiting…

He was on the balcony, smoking with friends, this is gonna be so funny when he gets it.

…waiting…

…waiting…

…waiting…

…waiting…

What the fuck?!

I remember thinking-

• Sprint Picture mail sucks.
• Maybe the picture is just so ‘big’ that it takes a while to send?
• maybe his phone is off.

I was bummed.

My joke had fizzled, had been wasted, what a stupid thing to-

My phone started ringing.

Yes! Haha, it’s David! I got you! Feel the wrath of Steve, you dumb son-of-a-

“Hey, Mom?!”

I don’t know why my mom’s voice was on the other end, and not David’s.

“Hi, honey, I just got a picture from you?!”

Let’s go back, shall we?

With my old phone, you couldn’t just choose a contact and send the photo to them, you had to enter their number individually.

For the sake of privacy, let’s say my mom’s number was

775-555-7580

My friend David’s phone, was ONE number off hers-

775-555-7280

A simple mistake of putting a 5 in place of a 2, and a penis in place of a picture.

My dong was Wanted: Dead or Alive, and in the hands of my own mother.

She did the best she could with what it was, trying to be naive-

“Steven, why did you send me a picture of your, um…elbow?”

Um, because I’m a funny person? Gulp.

“Well, I don’t get it?”

Thank the lord.

“I can’t even see it.”

Oh, fuck you. Now you are just being mean.

There are moments in life that CAN be deleted.

Moments like:

• Posting a drunk status update that is a bit too politically honest.
• Accidentally checking in at a porn shop.
• Putting up a risky photo.

Then there are moments in your life that CAN’T be deleted.

• Asking that hot girl/guy out to prom, and getting rejected.
• Mouthing off to a boss.
• Getting too drunk at a Christmas Party and passing out on the copy machine.
• Gambling money you don’t have, that you need.
• Or…sending a picture of your half-erect penis to your mother.

No button could undo this.

Nothing.

I’ve gotten so reliant on the great and powerful ‘Delete’ button, that I don’t let certain things have a chance to be embarrassed about later.

It makes stories.

It builds character.

It makes dinner time with your mom that more awkward 9 years later.

Stand-up would have been something I would have ‘deleted’ after the first time I tried it. All I could think was,

“Shit, why did I do that? Why can’t I erase that from people’s minds?”

Luckily, I kept going. I got better.

I learned from a mistake.

My jokes got tighter, my character got stronger, I was more confident, and most importantly, I double-checked numbers when sending well, any type of picture.

It’s not that often you get to Anthony Wiener your own mother.

However, if somebody doesn’t learn from the failure, or the embarrassment, than no character or moral can be learned.

I used to look down on people who said things like,

“Well, I did drugs, blew homeless guys, drank a bottle of Jack daily, and had 9 kids…but, I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

That may be a bit of a stretch, in that I mean, don’t be too proud of your own bad decisions, but if you truly do get a lesson out of it, or if you are able to stand a little bit more proud, than fuck it.

It’s good that we can’t delete everything, otherwise my blog and stand-up act would be incredibly boring…

P.S.- Please enjoy my dick pic below.