For several months now I’ve been leaving my old mobile phone in the car. Switched off. My excuse to all who bothered to care enough to enquire as to the reason for this behaviour was that, well, you didn’t get more mobile than being in a car so that seemed the right place for it. Only you’re not allowed to use them when driving, hence the not-on status. The reality, though, was a combination of other factors:
- my old "cutting edge" "mobile" phone was not really either,
- the strain from porting around a brick-sized object weighing slightly less than a sack of potatoes was putting my company health scheme in serious risk of being used and incurring wrath from above,
- I have no friends who ever want to call me.
That last point is totally untrue, of course. So long as you count imaginary friends. Commander Daring, Space Bombardier says it’s perfectly fine.
So I now have a brand new phone. It’s a Samsung SGH-Z500V apparently. This may mean something to you. It’s 3G! Yes, three of them. I now laugh at those of you with any number less than three Gs on your phone. There are cameras galore (ga·lore adj. Two of ’em) and it is replete with modern functions guaranteed not to become obsolete until my right to return the phone for a refund has passed such as polyphonic noise reproductivity and MP3 listenablebility and video looky-talky modiness.
I am very pleased with its shape and dimensions; small enough to fit in a pocket comfortably yet rounded and just bulky enough to fit in a pocket and extend the perceived size of my penis. It is a clamshell phone too which means when it is off and you open it up you can hear the ocean. Very soothing.
Since I’ve finally been dragged into the modern era I am now looking forward to doing the following "cool" and "hip" things:
As part of the contract deal to get the new phone I was not allowed to transfer over my old number and there was no easy way, since this ordering business was all performed over the webbynet, to move details (i.e. the address book) from my old phone either. This seemed unusually cruel but possibly a necessary step in today’s War On Easily Memorised Phone Numbers. So, upon receiving my new handset one of the first things I did was transfer over any important numbers from my old phone. I discovered – after filtering out anyone I hadn’t called or seen in the last year – that my address book of several dozen people and numbers was, when converted and expunged of the unworthy, really quite small. Really, really small. Who was the mysterious "P" whose home number and mobile I had? Why was there an entry for someone called "Mark" who clearly wasn’t me when I don’t know any other Marks in real life? Why did I have the phone number for the parents of someone I went to school with but last saw in the late 1980s before I even bought the old phone anyway?
I have started afresh. Other half. Parents. Other half’s parents. Brother. Tiny number of people I speak to on a semi-regular basis. My goal now, naturally, is to start accruing new numbers from people and file them away safely so that they too can be ignored completely. Later, when I upgrade again I’ll be able to write a new article about mysterious people in my contacts list. Feel free to email me your mobile number for inclusion in this worthwhile project. Use the comments section instead if you’d like to be pestered by the perverts who frequent the site too. Myself included. Camera pointed at my crotch during call almost 100% guaranteed!
Throwing Away My Money
My Samsung phone comes with some pre-loaded ringtones. They vary in usability from People Nearby Will Snigger And Point At You If You Use This Tone to People Nearby Will Snigger And Point At The Old Woman Beating You With Her Hospital Sock If You Use This Tone. The Z500 can play MP3s though! And it can set them as ringtones! Aha! Perfect!
Perfect! Unless the only volume setting for MP3 ringtones is designed to be picked up solely by a butterfly with acute hearing and its ear pressed up against the speaker. Pay for and download a "realtone" ringtone and it’s fine. Use a polyphonic tone and … it’s fine. Use a mono tone and … yes, that’s right; it’s fine. Just not MP3s from your computer. It plays them okay on the phone, but as ringtones? Afraid not, unless you have super sensitive hearing.
This means I have to spend money and buy something marginally less embarrassing to avoid looking like a tit or risk suffering sock injury when someone phones. Looking like a tit comes naturally, but nobody told me about the sock-threat when I bought the phone.
TV Dating Channels
There’s nothing more entertaining than flicking through the channels and finding one of the many dating channels that allow people to send in text messages and pictures of themselves. Genuine entries:
> Any ladies up for some afternoon Txt and cam fun with 28yr old good looking welsh man Txt my box girls don’t be shy x
> Very fit west yorkshire man 30 5f 8 shaved head good looking gsou up 4 fun and laffs with ladys age 25 too 50 tex mob 2 my num will repl 2 all thanks cctv x x
> BIGRICK – Hi girls tell us your dream man…… Tal, dark an handsome? Well im none ha ha! Apart from the handsome bit xx hi girls plz talk! Xx
> Very lonely 26 yr old farmer seeks female for chat and friendship, plz txt my box, i cant c tv as i mow my meadow. Maybe u fancy a roll in the hay? X x
Now, personally, I wouldn’t want to date someone who wanted to date someone who had resorted to finding dates through incoherent spelling challenges on live television but not everyone has my high standards. Further, if I were – God forbid! – ever in the position where I had resorted to trying to find phone-based friendship on a cable station at the far end of the channel spectrum then I’m not sure I could compete with the offer of a Welshman’s afternoon camera fun, I couldn’t beat the Yorkshireman’s gsou (garage shelf of unicorns), BIGRICK’s honesty (slightly spoilt by his pleading at the end) would have scuppered my attempt to appeal to women’s nurturing nature and inherent gullibility, and what woman would ever pick a software developer with his own home, car, and new mobile phone over a very lonely farmer? None of them, that’s who.
The point is that in the past I merely mocked these people from afar. Now, with the power of my new modern marvel I can join in and send in photos of David Hasselhoff too! Interactive victory is assured! I could also pretend to be a woman! I can’t believe nobody has thought of that before!
Showing People My Ear
There’s nothing particularly endearing about my right ear. As aural cavities go it has a hole where there should be one and a lobe thing underneath within which I could, if the desire took me, insert a ring. I won’t though; rings through the right ears of men indicate they’re fruity if you know what I mean while left ear-piercing – such as mine – means you’re straight as an arrow with moderate piratical tendencies. In short: my ear is an ear.
Callers employing the use of video phones will therefore not be overly impressed at seeing the aforementioned listening appendage should they ever phone. I’m very sorry but I can’t get used to holding the handset in front of me and shouting at it. It doesn’t seem natural somehow. Perhaps if I held people in front of me and shouted at them I’d get used to the concept.
Finally found the setting to turn off the simulated shutter and click noise. Nuff said.