Naich’s crappy blog

My phone is a Samsung D900i and sometimes it annoys the fuck out of me.

If I want to change the display background, it pops up an “Are you sure?” box. Why? Oh no! If I get it wrong, I might have to change it again. On the other hand, when composing a text, if I hold down the button used for deleting single characters for 1 second, it wipes out everything I’ve written. No warning box, no “Are you sure?” – just splat and my carefully composed message is gone for ever. This happens to me a lot, usually near the end of a long text that has been difficult to compose, and I’m thinking hard about it and not noticing that I’m holding the button down while deleting the last word of my heart-felt… *pop* there it goes. Start again. Argh.

And then, once I’ve written and re-written my text, if I’m trying to send it from a dodgy reception area it gives me a prompt to try again or cancel.  Fair enough.  If I click cancel, it asks if I want to save it.  The soft button that was “Cancel” then becomes the “No” button for “Save?”.  Because when I can’t send a message due to poor reception I usually want to delete the fucker, rather than save it to send later, don’t I?  That one was easier to remember the 10th time it deleted my message with no fucking warning.

Still, at least it makes sure that I don’t accidentally change my background by mistake because that would be REALLY bad.

Now I’ve failed my third sperm test, it looks like the vasectomy I had last year didn’t make a vas deferens to my fertility.  Of course, the good thing about having a failed vasectomy is that I can crack that joke.   And I suppose it’ll be nice to have another chinwag with the doctor about work and the dreadful state of the roads around Cambridge, but all things considered, I’d prefer not have to make idle chit-chat with a man who is wiggling a knife around in my goolies.

Apparently 1 in 2000 vasectomies don’t work.  I don’t really see what can go wrong – you chop a couple of pipes and seal the ends up.  I could do that myself with a penknife and a soldering iron.  Unless the doctor has trouble counting past 1, in order to fail, the little wriggly buggers must have repaired the pipes.  I’ve got millions of Bob the Builders living in my scrotum.  Can they fix it?  Yes, the little fuckers can.  I wonder if I could get them to fix the toaster?  I might chuck a few in there to see what happens.

Oh, and hello Ross.  Sorry for damaging your property.

Update: The doctor gave it some extra cauterising this time.  As the room echoed to the crackling of searing flesh, I heard a voice from behind the veil of smoke say “I’d like to see them get past THAT…”