Imagine it. It's the night after Christmas, and Unsuspecting Girl goes to plug in her dearly beloved iPhone (named Odile, for what it's worth). With one hand firmly wrapped around the iPhone--a layer of silicon between her hand and the phone in all but one spot, where her thumb barely touches the metal case--she reaches her other hand to plug her charger into a power strip. Then--BZZZAAAAAP--an audible crackle sounds in the air and zaps her poor, unsuspecting thumb. She jerks back, hoping that she just imagined it. Then she goes to do it again--BZZZAAAP. Now highly suspicious of her phone, she plugs it into the wall instead, and encounters no further dangers.
Well. Yeah. As you may be able to tell, Unsuspecting Girl is me. For whatever reason, beloved Odile decided she wanted to kill me last night, and I have no idea why. Until last night, I hadn't had any problems with my iPhone shocking me--ever--and I tend to be a staticky person. But apparently Odile was feeling testy and decided to get back at me, hence the shock. I suspect it wasn't actually the outlet that was shocking me, but I have no proof of why it would do--well, anything. I've only ever been wonderfully kind to Odile, and in return she's given me 3G speeds whenever possible.
I am, however, very leery of spending too much time with my iPhone now. This is bad, because I need it on my side. If it turns against me, well...let's just say I don't want it watching 2001 any time soon.
And, before you ask--no, I wasn't touching the prongs.
(anthropomorphisation of technology done only for humorous purposes)