Do iPhone users have smaller penises?

Almost a month ago I did the unspeakable and ditched Apple to join Android.

(pauses for dramatic effect)

Yes ladies and gentlemen it’s true.  I remember a few short months ago checking the Internet daily, waiting for the rumoured announcement of the iPhone 5 to be confirmed.  I’d heard it was going to be bigger, faster and more impressive.

Unfortunately, once the device had been announced and plastered all over the WWW, it turned out to be as disappointing as taking home a girl with a prominent Adams apple.

The phone was indeed bigger; by about a finger’s width.
It was indeed faster; which I neither care about or really noticed.
It wasn’t more impressive.  In fact, it was the same.  Oh sorry, ‘it was taller’.

Oooooh!

I must admit though, I was a little worried at making the switch at first because, like every iPhone user, I was concerned about the ‘lack of apps’ in Google’s Play store.  But when you consider that Android has almost 1 million apps it’s safe to say that I was being a bit of a penis about that.

My girlfriend had also decided to shift to Android a few months earlier after hearing me repeatedly going on and on about why Apple sucked and she was loving her new phone.  She’d opted for the Samsung Galaxy SIII, which I have to say is pretty awesome, and after having played with her phone and all the apps and widgets it was clear this was the way forward.

So in December I got my brand spanking new Samsung Galaxy Note II.  I wouldn’t say it was big; it was more like carrying around a small LCD TV in your pocket.  At first I was a bit overwhelmed by it’s sheer size (ooer!)

Ha ha ha ha, ahem.

Every time I took my phone out of my pocket friends would say “fucking hell Dan, that’s massive”, to which I’d usually reply with some sordid double entendre.  But ultimately I think people were taken aback by the impracticality of such a beast of a phone…..that is until they ‘had a go’.

Pretty much every one of my friends has fallen in love with it.  It’s an impressive piece of kit and I bloody love it.  I’ve got almost all the apps I had on the iPhone and the ones I couldn’t get hold of were shit anyway.  The thing that’s brilliant is the way people pull their iPhones out of their pockets and put it next to mine to see just how small theirs is by comparison.  It’s like a pissing contest and they’re definitely getting screen envy!

I feel like I’ve acted on those annoying emails that offer penis enlargement.  Everyone said I’m making a big mistake and I shouldn’t do it but I did it anyway.  Now it’s bigger and more impressive than those of my friends and they’re gutted they didn’t do it as well.

Of course the metaphor ends there…….I’m not letting them ‘have a go’.

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A laugh a day helps you work, rest and play

The suited and booted businessman opposite me on the train is clearly watching something funny on his iphone.  

Every 30 seconds or so he does his best to suppress his laughter, which he’s failing at miserably.  

He’s mostly snorting a lot, but occasionally he pauses what he’s watching, looks out the window and tries to calm down.  It really ain’t working for him.  

There’s nothing quite like trying to pull a normal face when all your face wants to do is resemble a cat licking piss off a thistle.  

I’m not mocking this guy in any way. In fact it’s just a reminder that life should not always be taken so seriously.  

Ah, he has totally lost it now, complete with wheezing, snorts and rocking in his seat. Good for him.  

The young girl next to him is desperately looking around for somewhere else to sit, but the train is packed. Just sit there and enjoy the moment like I am, you miserable cowbag.  

That’s it mate, mop your brow with your handkerchief; you deserve it.  

😀

Cuba stard! Pt. 2

How’s this for some scary shit?

I go to check in at Havana airport only to be told that, as I’m going onto the United States, I need to show my completed ESTA (which I don’t have on me mainly because I wasn’t told I needed it as it was all authorised and approved online), Otherwise i cant leave Cuba.

What.
The.
Fuck??

He asks if I can get it up on my iPhone, but I have no Internet and he was less than willing to allow me to access the Internet from a computer in the entire airport. I mean, how crap is that?

Anyway, after much pleading and my best puppydog eyes, he directs me to the BahamasAir office so I can go onto one of their PCs and show them my ESTA online.

I leave the coolness of the terminal, adopting the briskest walk I have, and into the sauna known as Cuba. Then, with heavy suitcase and hand luggage, I climb the stairs to the first floor office.

That was fun.

I eventually find the office which doesn’t have any signs on it and there’s a bitter old lady sat behind a desk who demands to know what I want. I tell her. She seems annoyed that I’ve interrupted her work and beckons me over. As I get nearer I see she’s on Facebook.

Perfect.

Anyway, I access my details (on the ESTA, not Facebook), and she looks at it over her glasses like my old maths teacher used to do. She then writes a compliment slip out for me to take back to check-in to say I do actually have an approved ESTA. Then she suggests I get lost, which sounds sexier in Spanish somehow. With foresight I take a couple of photos of the computer screen as I don’t need a repeat of this in both Nassau and Florida!

I lug my heavy case back down the stairs, through the heat and crowds and back to check-in. The clerk looks at the slip, smiles and then asks if I have confirmation of my flight out of the US, otherwise I can’t leave Cuba.

Are you kidding me?? I swear these people really want me to stay!

No, I don’t have the confirmation of the flight back to the UK as it was being booked this week back in England whilst the girlfriend and I were sunning ourselves in Cuba.

A few more puppydog eyes later I finally get my boarding pass and I’m allowed airside by the (ahem) ‘pleasant and friendly’ immigration staff, and security staff, and just staff generally. Gosh darn it they’re SO friendly.

To top it all off, the flight is now going to be leaving about 40 minutes late as they’ve only just started boarding; 15 minutes after it was due to actually take off! So I’m probably going to miss my connection.

Excellent.

I really am going to miss this place.

Train’d Parrot

I get on the over packed train, having sprinted like a lunatic to catch it, and look everywhere for a seat. I walk down carriage upon carriage of smug commuters looking for my own little slice of heaven, but alas…nowhere to sit.

Then, in between the two EMPTY first class compartments, just where the carriages are coupled, I find a fold down seat not dissimilar to the jump seats used by cabin crew on an aircraft. There’s no one around, there’s no one using it…so I sit down.

Mmm, comfy.

The train pulls away and I settle down to play games on my iPhone.

Perfect.

I look up and down the carriage and it’s standing room only as far as the eye can see. I’m definitely part of the smug crowd.

About 3 mins into the commute I hear footsteps getting closer and closer. They stop to my left and I sense someone stood over me.

I don’t look up.

“Can I help you sir?”, comes a voice in a thick African accent.
“Sorry?”
“Can I help you sir?”, he repeats, in exactly the same way.
“Oh do you want to see my ticket?” I ask, knowing full well what he’s getting at.
“You can’t sit here” he continues.
“Why’s that?” I ask.
“You can’t sit here” he repeats again, not actually answering my question.

I stand up “sorry, why can’t I sit here? The train is packed and there’s nowhere to sit”
“Dis is for staff sir” he says, stating the bleedin’ obvious.
“But there’s no one sat here” I argue, knowing I’m going to be as successful as a dog walker, bag in hand, watching their dog squirt diarrhoea all over the floor.
“Dis is for staff sir” he repeats, like a parrot who’s been taught a phrase but hasn’t got a clue about the right sort of delivery.

Polly want a cracker?

I look him in the eye, smile and say “Oh! I see! It’s for you is it?”
“It’s for staff sir” he says again, causing me to suspect he may, just possibly, be absent a personality.

“Oh, well in that case I’ll go and stand over there uncomfortably with everyone else. Thank you so very much”. I walk back through the EMPTY first class compartment and join the sauna.

“Dis is for staff”

Yeah, I heard you the first 9 times you insufferable Jobsworth.

Luckily this train is really, really delayed and I’m left standing here amongst the coughers, newspaper rustlers and that one guy whose ipod is turned up so loud he’s having problems keeping his balance.

I may garrotte him with his headphones.

Mind you, he hasn’t got to endure those annoying phone users who all take this opportunity to call home and advise of their tardiness. They all start the same bloody way; “hi hun it’s me…me. It’s me. Hello? Yeah it’s me. I’ve got no sig…hello? Yeah I’ve got no signal! Hello? Hello can you hear me? Hello…my train is delayed and….” (Cut off)

They then get called back (with their ringtone at full volume…enough to startle Mr iPod) and repeat the above conversation, almost word for word.

End and repeat.
End and repeat.

In the meantime the guard has pissed off down the train somewhere and isn’t even using the ‘staff seat’.

Think
I
Might
Scream

Headphone hell

I’ve just watched the woman opposite me on the train attempt to take headphones out of her purse.

She sat herself down, settled in, adjusted her scarf and put her immense handbag on her lap.

She then reached, elbow deep, into her handbag and produced a pair of (massive) white Dr.Dre Beats headphones; well half of them…the other half had snagged on something and was as reluctant to get out of the bag as I was out of bed this morning.

Finally she produced the entire monstrosity, and her keys with it. She put the keys back in her bag and started to pull on the headphone cord.

Out came her purse and a pack of chewing gum. Back in they go.

She pulled a bit more; ah her keys again, and what appeared to be another scarf tangled around the cord.

After about a minute of patiently unravelling this evil spaghetti of rubberised cord and scarf, she pulled again but was faced with a knot in the cord, and some sunglasses. Oh, and her keys.

She had the patience of a saint as by now I would’ve thrown the bag across the carriage, spilling its contents all over the place (which would’ve effectively solved the issue, and most likely decapitated a complete stranger)

Finally she found the jack end of the cord and plugged it into her iPhone.

Success!

She then took out a hairband, created some elaborate twisty bun in her hair and held it in place with the band (I assume so she could get the headphones on her head).

Then, and with a noticeably smug smile on her face, she put the mammoth headphones on.

She looked like a Cyberman.

She then sat back to enjoy her music. Alas, she hadn’t emancipated enough cord from the bag and the resulting tension pulled the bastard headphones off her head enough that the hairband came off, her hair went everywhere and the ‘L’ side of the headphones were now sat on her cheek with the ‘R’ on the back of her neck.

She shot me a glance to see if I’d noticed, but I was looking out the window so clearly I hadn’t.

But I had.

Gutted.

Connect you bastard, connect!

For someone like me, having a decent 3G signal is important as I like to write Facebook statuses (or is it Stati?) and/or blog entries whilst travelling on our nation’s joke…er, i mean trains.

So why is it so hit and miss??

It pisses me off that getting a half decent signal in London is as challenging as a job application form to a Jeremy Kyle contestant.

What exacerbates it further is the fact that I’m showing 3G with FULL signal and yet I’m still greeted with that little circling icon and the word ‘Loading’ next to it.

It’s lying to me. I know it’s lying to me.

“You’re not loading, you little turd” I think to myself, “and i’m going to prove it!”
So I go into my iPhone settings, switch Airplane Mode on, wait 10 seconds, switch it off again and like magic….full signal and 3G again. Only this time it actually works.

“Awesome” I say to myself (quietly of course, as I’m on the train and I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ who talks to himself and subsequently becomes the focus of someone’s Facebook status or blog).

So I write my musings, read them back, chuckle a bit, corect aany spleling miistekes, take out the comment about someone’s mum, proof read it again, reconsider the mum comment and slide it back in (well, it’s how she likes it), chek teh speling agian, and then post it.

Oh….nope…..no 3G. That’s because I pressed send at the PRECISE moment we entered a tunnel (insert mum comment here if you like). It’s just bloody typical that I get no signal at the point I need it!

Ah, we’re out of the tunnel now. Any minute I’ll get my 3G back. I mean, we’re not in the middle of Cambodia here; this is just outside London….

…..any minute now…..

…..any minute……

Aha! Signal!

Another tunnel.

Fuck.

Ok, I can wait. I can play Trainyard or look on faceboo….ah, no I can’t.

Ok, we’re out of the tunnel again.

….any minute…..

…..aaaaaaaany minute now……

Aha! Signal!

“Tickets please”

What? Now? Sigh, hang on! (Puts phone on the table and fumbles in his bag, then pockets, then bag again; finds ticket and shows it to the ‘cheery’ chap armed with his ticket bitey clip thingy)

“Thank you”
“Fuck you”
“Pardon sir?”
“Nothing….”

He walks away…

Ok, now lets post this bastard. (Presses ‘post’)

Circling icon…(deep breath)

Back into Airplane Mode.

Aaaaaaaaaand……..done!

I hope you’ve appreciated the shit I’ve been through for you to read this!

Smart Decisions…

I have a confession to make.

I think, to most people, I come across as the sort of guy who sees how things go. I don’t tend to worry about the detail and have a real ‘suck it and see’ approach to life; the sort of guy who would ask “what does this red button do?”

– click –

But in reality, I do have a tendency to analyse and over analyse certain things when I need to make an important decision. I’ve also noticed that the word ‘anal’ appeared in that last sentence twice….not that I was picking up on that, or now stressing over whether the word ‘anal’ on its own might offend you reading this…..oh damn, I’ve done it again.

– BBBBOOOOOOOoooooooooommmmm!!!!! –

But coming back to my point; I do tend to get a bit ana….er, obsessive (yes, obsessive; a much better word) about making certain decisions. It’s nothing trivial like deciding whether or not to donate money to charity or if I should actually attempt to avoid the slow walking old lady in the road as I drive closer and closer. No it’s the life changing decision we all have to make at pivotal times in our lives……

What phone do I upgrade to now that my contract is nearing its end??

You see my issue? This is serious stuff!

For 2 years now (almost), I’ve had my ever faithful iPhone 4. Not the 4S, no…the 4 (dammit!). I used to have some regular Nokia something-or-other before and the iPhone opened my eyes to the joy of swiping, double tapping and pinching (although they all sound like words you’d use to describe going for a poo, but hey….let’s not deviate here). I found a new love for those lovely little things we call apps. Tiny quadrilateral delights that bring so much creativity, innovation and the chance to catapult a variety of bad tempered feathered creatures at scaffolding in the hope of killing some verdant swine. What more could I ask for?

Flash maybe?

But the restricted nature of Apple’s little black slab of joy now has me considering doing what Dave Lister and the rest of the Red Dwarf crew did……….and pick up an Android.

Is it worth it? Is it as good? Better? Worse? I really don’t know. I’ve watched hours of YouTube footage and reviews (and some amusing videos including a Thai guy destroying a Mariah Carey classic) and I’ve read almost every opinion, thought, rant and criticism of both Android and Apple’s IOS and no-one seems to be able to say “this is the one you want Dan….this one is the way forward”. Bastards…all of them.

So I’ve decided to not worry about it for now and instead become one of those nuisances in every phone shop on the high street ‘trying out’ different phones. The time I spend in there will obviously depend on how long it takes for the salesperson to come over and say “you alright there?”, to which I’ll say “yeah, just looking mate” followed by 6 more seconds of ‘trying out’, pretending to take interest in the price (usually with raised eyebrows, downturned mouth and nodding to suggest ‘Mmmm, not bad’), and then casually walking out of the store whilst overdoing the act of taking interest in all the other phones, phone covers and tedious shite they peddle in those places. Basically so they don’t catch on that I’m taking the piss a little bit and I’m probably going to do it all online anyway.

I was like this when I bought my TV, BluRay player, Dishwasher (seriously!), Dyson etc…. I didn’t even put this much effort into buying my house; the place I actually store most of this crap! In fact, I’m spontaneous about making decisions like, who my friends are, what I’m going to have for lunch, which nostril to pick first (although that’s not directly related to my lunch), what to watch on my carefully chosen TV, which pair of black socks I’m going to wear today….etc…

So I CAN do it….

I think I need a drink.

Tea? Coffee? Horlicks??

Ooh, I know, I’ll see what they suggest on YouTube.