Thursday, August 27, 2009


My ancient Sony Ericsson P910i is finally on the fritz.

Ever since I got it, I've never been able to text properly on the goddamned, aptly-named flip cover. So every time I have to text (an activity I enjoy just a teensy-weensy bit less than root canal), I have to use the frickin' stylus and lose the free use of both hands.

For all the convenience they provide, I detest cell phones with extreme prejudice. They're like mobile tracking devices, short of being surgically attached to our ears. Because I can't afford to miss important work-related calls or messages, the godforsaken thing is my constant companion. I even bring it with me to the john because client always seems to know when I'm sitting on the throne, unarmed and vulnerable. The insidious contraptions have made us reachable 24/7, just like 7/11. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

I notice quite a number of people change cell phones as swiftly and remorselessly as they switch and ditch lovers. Every time a hotter, newer model comes out, they just have to have it. As far as status symbols go, phones have never done it for me. I save my bragging rights for my cars. ("Dude, nuba yang bulok mong phone! Nakaka sirang-porma!" "I drive a sports car, a truck, and an Alfa Romeo, so fuck you and that iPhone you rode in on.") Me, I've had this ratty disgusting excuse for a mobile communication device for close to four years now. Not much to look at, but it did the job. I'm not terribly impressed with all the bells and whistles that come with the accursed objects nowadays. Mainly because there are only two things I do on the cell phone: call and text. Now I can add a third: hurl it against the nearest concrete wall.

An ex-employee of mine hocked an exact model to me a couple years back. He never bothered to redeem it; I assume he's holding a newer model by now. So I've been trying to transfer the contact info on my old phone to the other one, but the infernal PC application won't locate my phone and I have yanked every motherfucking cable off the tangled back of my tower trying to find the stupid goddamned COM1 port.

Obviously, to no avail. The Backup and Restore window is still taunting me: NOT CONNECTED.

I don't have time for this shit and am about to give up and face the unpleasant fact that I might have to go get another cell phone.

I'm open to any recommendations.


  1. I love the way you bitch. Ha ha. I think it's time for you to ride an iphone. Go ahead, fall in love. ;)

  2. yeah men! get an iphone. :-)

  3. i am guilty about changing phones (changing/ditching lovers NOT!) but loyal to Treo. =)

  4. Thanks for your votes, fellas.

    Thus far, the tallies go:

    iPhone - 2
    Treo - 1

    I think I'll hold out just a bit for best of five. Hopefully. In the meantime, maybe I can get two cans of evap and connect them with a very long string.