Wednesday, January 02, 2008


I finally joined the 21st Century - or at least the 20th Century. Yes, I bought me a cell-phone. And what an ordeal over a simple purchase! The woman in the phone shop wanted to know my name, my address... and all sorts of stuff. It was rather alarming. When you've been questioned by the cops as many times as I have, you become wary about divulging personal details to complete strangers. Phone-woman even asked - get this - my phone number. Being a smart-alec, I replied: "Don't you already know that? After all, you're selling me the damn thing. Shouldn't I be asking you what my new number is." She gave me the filthiest look, as if about to ring the police. I thought: oh great! Now I'm really in for an interrogation down at the station - the cops have got my number, alright. Thankfully, t'was not to be. We exchanged money and goods (and sullen glares) then I exited, excited about my new toy.

And what a flash toy it is! Shiny and modern, it can take and send photos. It's wafer-thin but came with an instruction manual thicker than a New York City phonebook, which - being lazy - I have no intention to wade through. My 9-year old niece was patient enough to show me how to work all the fiddly, wee buttons on the tiny keypad. She even offered to teach me to text message, but bah humbug! If I wanna communicate with someone, I'll just dial the number and talk, the good old fashioned way because, hey - it's a PHONE. Besides, I'm not the gossipy type who likes to yack all day. My messages are brief: "Hey bro, piss-up at my house tonight. Don't bring any dodgy mates. Don't want the cops turning up asking questions." There! All over in a few seconds. Can't imagine how long it would take to type all that on those miniscule little buttons. Especially difficult with my clumsy gorilla-sized mitts.

By the way, it's true what they say about men with big hands.... Don't believe me? If you want, I can take a photo of it and send it to you on my new mobile. Mind you, I haven't learned to send pics yet, nor can I be bothered plodding through that enormous door-stopper of an instruction book. And there's no way I'm asking 9-yr old niece to show me how to send those type of photos. There's laws against that; I'd definitely end up being questioned by the cops. You'll just have to take my word for it, and trust me that the hand/thingy ratio is true.

Hmm. Maybe phone-woman noticed my big hands, and that's why she was asking for my name, number and address...


Deadman said...

"the hand/thingy ratio is true."

It would have to be or wanking off would look like an inchworm having a seizure in a catcher's mitt.

Happy New Year, Phil!

Phil said...

an inchworm having a seizure

Make that a 12-inchworm :-)

Mark, comments like yours above really do lower the tone of my blog...
... for which I'm most grateful. Thank you.

You have a good one too, bud!