Toad in the Hole

June 24, 2006

Pocket Lint

Comment of the Day, posted by mudkitty over at Majikthise:

There is a national gun registry...it's called the NRA. Suckers.


Long and winding week. I found myself getting into useless debates with people who wouldn't get the point and to whom I was trying my damnedest to be polite in several places, including one of those dreams that take place in an ugly half-abandoned urban wasteland with a splendid view of gorgeous distant mountains.

That stuff makes me so tired.

So the cellphone died on the road in Humboldt County, and we took the occasion to change to Working Assets Wireless and get a free phone from them. We'd been talking about doing that for months and the Universe gave us a kick in the ass. The phone they were offering is a camera phone, so we have one willy-nilly. Maybe I can be a Hollaback Girl. First thing, now that it works, is to set the voicemail, which will be novel; the Verizon cheapo-plan didn't have that. Then on to the bells and whistles. This one has more ringtones to play with, and I think we can download more. I wonder if anyone's licensing birdsongs or Cajun tunes?

The damned thing has so many things packed onto it -- second screen, odd lights -- I keep hoping to find something useful, like a laser gun or a culinary salamander. Or something that produces kleenex on demand.

I dunno; what would you want on your cellphone?

Posted at June 24, 2006 01:18 AM

Comments

When I lived in Berkeley, I used to always walk past this place on I think 6th Street that was called Berkeley Recognition Services. I had no idea what the hell they really did, but I developed this ongoing fantasy that they produced little pocket-sized devices that you could hold up whenever you ran into somebody who looked vaguely familiar but damned if you could remember their name or where you knew them from, especially out of context (like running into your mail carrier out of uniform at Andronico's). You would discreetly hold it up, and it would instantly tell you, "Oh it's that friendly guy who works at Monterey Market," or "the woman from the library" or "Joan's sister's neighbor Mildred Whatsherwhozit." I seriously need a cell phone or SOMETHING that has this capacity. So where can I order one??

Posted by: Vibrating Liz at June 24, 2006 02:57 AM


I really like Vibrating Liz's idea. Hell, I really *need* Vibrating Liz's idea.

Other than that, I am one of those oddball people who only uses the phone for emergencies or for "help me not forget stuff we need while I'm in the store" phone calls. I really only want my phone to be a phone. I've only ever given the number to a handful of people: my boyfriend, the veterinarian, my boss, and our landlord. The cat is only interested in chewing on the antenna.

Posted by: Sara at June 24, 2006 05:46 PM


All right. I need that too. Especially as I get older and everybody starts to look similar and I've lived in Berkeley long enough that I probably have met half the people on the street at least a few times.

Plus I can't remember names for shit, and it's getting worse with that weird menopausal nominal aphasia.

What I'm surprised about is that there isn't a sound recording device of some kind in the phone. Or at least I haven't found one yet. It would seem a natural, more so than the camera.

There are days I'd like mine to generate Fuck-Off Field, too.

Posted by: Ron at June 25, 2006 08:48 PM


Ooooooooh, a Fuck-Off Field. Yes, please.

I'm not sure I want that on my phone, though. I'm sure it would be just another excuse for dropped calls. "Oh, you had your Fuck-Off Field turned on. You can't dial out with your Fuck-Off Field turned on." Nevertheless, I might rethink that position if I could be assured that anyone trying to reach me on the phone at that time would get a message saying, "Sorry. The [Sprint/Verizon/FillintheblankCorp.] customer you are trying to reach has activated this number's Fuck-Off Field. Please fuck off now. You may try your call again later."

Actually, I want that on my home phone.

Posted by: Sara at June 26, 2006 02:58 AM