Thursday, June 14, 2007

phones & immediate demandation

I never thought I'd say this – not even for two and a half seconds – but I hate my phone.

I can't throw it away, because, well, that would just be a dumb thing to do.

It's the most demanding piece of equipment ever, and not in a good way. Why? Because lately, it only ever wants something from me. It demands my immediate attention and my immediate response.

Either it's one of the six banks asking me if I want a credit card, the cycle lab reminding me about cycle races I am too unfit to do, or people asking me for shit. Always asking me for shit; always wanting something.

The last time I got an sms I didn't need to reply to was back in, like, 2004.

Can you check this? Do you have a number for me? Are you free tonight? Where're we meeting? Who did you snog last weekend? Can I borrow this? Why you so quiet? Are you going to Trevor's party? ARE YOU AVAILABLE? Feed me, feed me now.

To all these questions: No; don't feel like looking for it; no; don't know; can't remember I was too fucked; no; because I am; possibly; no I'm too busy making cartoons.

Text messages I like (in the rare case you have my number):

You don't need to reply to this, but I love you, you are beautiful and amazing;
You don't need to reply to this, but I'll meet you at the bar counter with a tequila ready and waiting for you;
You don't need to reply to this, but I bought you a present from overseas, and I'll deliver it once I get it through customs;
You don't need to reply to this, but I'd like to take you from behind, love Jake Gyllenhaal;
You don't need to reply to this, but you're the best friend ever;
You don't need to reply to this, but good work on Project Impossible, we got the deal;
You don't need to reply to this, but you've won $100 million, which we are depositing into your bank account this very second;
You don't need to reply to this, but we're going to the Seychelles in September for ten days, love your ever-suffering mother who thinks you're the most amazing child to ever be conceived.

Caveat. The last text is true. Bar the eternally-suffering-you're-a-child-prodigy part.
My mum is organising for us and our entire French side of the family to go to the Seychelles in September for a petit reunion de la famille.
Bring it the fuck on. Isn't my mum the shiznik? She may have just saved me from going completely insane after all.

PS: And to the company text spamming me that I've won an inflatable mattress,a Verimark food processor and a set of hairdryers (honest to God), no. No. No. No. And no again.

PPS: And no again.


Betenoir said...

Dude, don't be silly: having Jake Gyllenhall take you from behind is a total waste, because then you can't see him! what are you thinking?

in any case, your phone sounds evil. your phone is owned by Satan and is sucking your soul. out your ear.

Peas on Toast said...

Bete - thing is, at the calculated risk of sounding crude and quite unbecoming: I want Jake G to be banging away at from the rear end.

Oh God. Please don't read that mother.

Heddles said...

Now that is a reasonable demand. Worth a toyi-toyi

Peas on Toast said...

Heddles - it's all clear, it's just come to me now: I need a PA. A personal PA to do all my shit, take my messages and answer them for me.

Any takers? Preferably men with hot bods and a sense of humour?
(Will repay with sexual favours.)

Heddles said...

A PA is just the ticket! I'll place an ad in the Gulf News.

Hot motherfucker with a Matric. Must be multi-talented.

boldly benny said...

Peas I fucking hate my phone. I would throw it in a fire if I could but I unfortunately use it for all my freelance work.

I also see it as the most emotionally draining friend I could possibly have because I always have someone to reply to... in fact my friends say I'm addicted to my phone but it's mainly coz there's alway a request tucked inside it.

I like this idea of a personal PA - after hours admin a must!

Peas on Toast said...

Heddles - yeah a hot Arab. Now you're talking. Send him my way (he has to leave his camel in Dubai though. Camel guano is not my bag.)

Boldly - oh yes. I am addicted to my phone - but when I go to the Seychelles - YEAH FRIGGIN' YEAH - I shall be outof range for ten whole days! Yeeeehah!

Heddles said...

This may shock you, but some A-rabs are sexy. Sheikh Mo's nephew is an exotic Ferderer-type looker. And he cashed in his camel for a Ferrari. I'll see if he's looking for menial work.

Peas on Toast said...

Heddles don't forget the catch phrase ultimate sales pitch to end all sales pitch line: "Is willing to give sexual favours. And a lot thereof."

Shot bru. :)

Heddles said...


8Ball said...

Because telecoms can go very far
And after much time at the bar
"Donnie give me doggie"
Sms'd our little bloggie
All the way to the Hollywood star

I'm presuming you've seen the cult film "Donnie Darko" starring Mr Gyllenhaal....
'cause you have...

Peas on Toast said...

8Ball - Mr Jake to the G - we have Donnie Darko at home. You're on form china!

Revolving Credit said...

Now what really pisses me off are those 'Please call me' messages..%&&$%^*&*(!!

Now the cellular providers could spice the message options up a bit.

'Please rent me'
'Please fondle me'
'Please assasinate me'
'Please arrest me'
'Please drug me'
'Please oral me'

'Oral please me'

Chester Pillow said...

Nice funny! he he

Peas on Toast said...

Rev - oh my GOD. Please call me's and private numbers. Ignore, ignore, ignore.

Ches - are you going to get your funny back by the weekend bru?

8Ball said...

Thanks dude....