It is my sincere belief that cell phones are the most evil piece of technology ever invented, followed closely by alarm clocks and vacuum cleaners.

All three serve no purpose other than to annoy me and impede my ability to think out loud. But what separates cell phones from the latter two is its imposing ability to force me into having awkward and often time-redundant conversations with people I generally don't care about.

Plus, as everyone knows, sarcasm doesn't transition well over the phone, and that's something I can't seem to understand, as my numerous restraining orders have led me to believe.

The most frightening part about talking over the phone is the unsurprising lack of privacy. I mean, you may think that your loved one is the only person enticed by the kinky, sexual fantasies you're telling him or her over the phone, but chances are the 30 other people on the Metro are equally interested, if not slightly disturbed.

Worse yet, someone could be recording that exact phone conversation in anticipation of leaking it to some random celebrity gossip Web site in hopes of cashing in millions and ruining your career. And since I hold my career here at The Daily to be the most precious part of my existence, I never talk on my cell phone, or discuss my sexual fantasies in general, for that matter.

However, some people don't hold their career as dearly as myself, as their own phone conversations have spilled into the public sphere of water-cooler gossip and chitchat.

Most recently, Duane Chapman, known for his portrayal of "Dog" on Dog the Bounty Hunter was caught having a private phone conversation with his son.

During the conversation, in which Chapman told his son Tucker to break up with his girlfriend in fear that she would publicize the star's use of the n-word, he used the exact racial slur that offended not only his son but also the millions of people who downloaded the conversation from The National Enquirer Web site.

Of course, Dog was only trying to keep with the trend of private conversations turned public, which has faltered the careers of some of television's biggest stars.

Not far back in the past, Alec Baldwin almost destroyed his career when a voice message that included an angry rant toward his daughter was leaked to the public. Thankfully for him, he didn't use the n-word — otherwise he too would have apologized to Al Sharpton and made an appearance on Larry King.

But this column isn't about the way we brush our problems under the rug but rather about how we can't seem to ever hide them away from the public. I can't comprehend why celebrities are unable to watch their mouths when they're talking on the phone with their own family members or friends. Don't they understand that they're supposed to be setting an example at all times, even when there's no one around to hear it?

As common citizens, we look to our celebrities as superhuman, as some other echelon of the Homo sapiens species. Therefore, we love it when they somehow are brought back to Earth, even if it involves an invasion of their privacy. If anything, this recent turn of events shows that most celebrities are probably guilty of saying something that's either offensive or prejudicial. They just haven't had one of their family members record it and leak it to a gossip Web site.

Therefore, take heed, celebrities and celeb-wannabes. Take my advice and stop talking on the phone — or go the whole nine yards like me, and just stop talking in general. Because you'll always be heard — you just won't know it.

[Reach columnist Eric Uthus at opinion@thedaily.washington.edu.]