My head has exploded

I've got a new phone.

 

My trusty Sony (with buttons on it, rings like Dixon of Dock Green's police phone) still works, but with my UK sim card etc so it costs a fortune to use - to call my chum 3 floors below me, the call effectively goes China to UK, UK back to China just to say "fancy a beer?". So that costs me a fiver, the same as 5 beers at the shitty bar over the road. Not cost effective, you'll agree.

 

So I bought a phone with a local service provider - I told the man "cheapest in the world - just phone & text, not even a camera : one you'd give your dog to eat : Tesco value". Naturally, the sarcasm was lost in translation and he tried to sell me an i-phone thing for £500 because EVERYONE here has an iphone or dreams of one. Honestly, the Apple shop is PACKED everyday.

 

Maybe it's because I'm getting older, but I don't want my bank details to be in a cloud somewhere and photo's of my dog eating his own crap available on my laptop, phone, and telly and I don't want an 'app' that tells me how my penis compares with average size (country by country). I want the bastard thing to ring when someone calls me and send texts without me having to swipe my finger in 10 directions before I get past the security check.

 

I paid £6 for my new phone. The guys in the office laugh a lot when I get i out (the phone, not my penis), as do the girls, but I'm tempted to silence them all by revealing just how my penis compares with average, and without my bloody phone telling me what I already know.

 

Anyway, the point of all this is that last night, my old phone went "bing" indicating someone had sent me a text. Note, I said "bing" - it didn't quack like a duck or play the first verse of 'Agadoo' or say "They think it's all over - well, it is now!" - it just went "bing".

 

As it was 2.30am in the morning here, I confess I wasn't best pleased after scrabbling for the light and then my reading glasses to find that the earth-shattering content of the communication was "YOU MAY BE ENTITLED TO CLAIM BACK ANY PPI (PAYMENT PROTECTION INSURANCE) THAT YOU HAVE PAID. CALL SCOUSE BASTARD SCROUNGER LEGAL SERVICES NOW!".

 

My head exploded. Not least because I was having a good dream (red hot date wth Kira Reed) but beause opening the text on my UK phone cost me £2. The message also said "TO STOP RECEIVING THESE MESSAGES TEXT BACK WITH THE WORD STOP" -which would have cost me another £2. I did contemplate the value of this option, but decided it would only be worth it if I could add the words "**** OFF!" But on the basis £2 will buy me my lunch in the noodle bar, I decided I'd get more satisfaction in eating my lunch tomorrow knowing the scouse bastards have paid for it. Sort of.

 

Does that make my mind twisted or entirely logical? Is my brain the size of a planet or the same size as my penis?

 

Truth is, I don't bloody care. Makes no difference at the moment anyway - when I went back to sleep, Kira had gone and Winnie the Pooh appeared instead. He was trying to steal my lawnmower and then said he was going to lend it to Gary Barlow, so he could mow the Queen's lawn with it to make sure he got an OBE.

 

Goodnight.