Saturday, December 28, 2013

I Can't Say That I Much Like The Mobile Phones

Just got a new phone for Christmas.  It's top of the range - the possibilities are limited only by the outer boundary of the user's imagination.

Having no imagination whatsoever, I'll probably just use it to make calls to people and to bore you all to tears with pointless pictures of myself standing next to celebrities.  Hello everyone, this is me with Sanjay off Eastenders, bitch I'll say to Twitter, while you contemplate the fleeting nature of human existence.  This is a huge leap forward in the dullard's art, if you ask me. 

Me and Sanj go way back.

I can't say that I much like the mobile phones, to be honest. I got one from my employers and all they ever do is call me on it and ask me to do more work on my day off, the swines, and I'm forever at the mercy of Scottish Power.  Where's our goddamn money, you stinking leech, they text me continually.  It's like volunteering to keep a miniature bailiff in your pocket*.

Still, I can now read a book on a bus, a feat that was literally unthinkable in the dark ages before smartphones were invented.  I can also sit on a bus watching TV shows about Californian heiresses getting upset because their siblings disrespected them, which will be endlessly useful if I ever sustain a debilitating head injury.

Once, sitting on a bus could be a rich televisual metaphor.  The actor/actress could lean on the window staring into the middle distance, facially conveying inner turmoil - hopes and fears, regrets, steely determination etc.

These days such a scene would look about as realistic as an episode of Match of the Day acted out by the Thunderbirds, without the main character watching kittens falling over on a WowPhone Fuckteen. Such is the world that we have created.


 "God damn you! God damn you all to Hell!"

*If you type "bailiff" into the Google the first result is "bailiff jobs", which suggests that lots of people are using their Wowphone Fuckteens to seek employment in kicking your front door to pieces then repossessing your Wowphone Fuckteen.

Don't look to me for help though - in years to come, I'll remember that when they came for the Wowphone Fuckteen users, I was playing Angry Birds on my Blingphone Retardo or watching video clips of Thai girls crapping on each other, because I was not a Wowphone Fuckteen owner.

2 comments:

CopPorn said...

On the bright side, rodent, a fancy mobile phone is letting me read your blog in cafe Nero. such amaze.

ejh said...

We have one with a cord and a dial. We showed it to the missus's niece, aged eighteen. "How does it work?" she said.