I give up. My phone has officially strummed my last nerve. I can’t do it anymore. What’s the point in a mobile phone if it dies on you by lunch time!? Despite what you may think, I HADN’T EVEN BLOODY WELL BEEN ON IT!
What if I was out and the car broke down, what if I forgot what I was supposed to buy from Budgens and needed to call Mr Snacks because I’m sure there was more on the list than ‘chocolate, biscuits and crisps’… what if I was attacked and beaten and dragged into a wooded area and… Ok so the “attack” might have been a little dramatic, but it could have happened. And what would I have done?
Excuse me, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt you – and may I say you look like a lovely man – but you don’t happen to have a charger on you do you? Just my phones died, and this scenario just won’t work if I can’t call someone in hysterics afterwards.
No? Ah, that’s a shame. Better luck next time.
*Insert “please don’t kill me” laugh*
Anyway, you get my gist. It’s just not safe.
So I’ve done it, I’ve surrendered myself to the Granny Smith. The Cox. The Golden Delicious. The Gala…
(Please don’t make me spell it out anymore. It kills me. I feel dishonest and disloyal to my beloved – yet clearly failed because, well, you saw what could have happened – Samsung).
So long my friend. So long.