I’ve finally taken the plunge and left my previously blissful and ignorant world behind me. Gone are the sunny days of calm, brazenly whiled away beeping and buzzing free. I’ve gone and gotten myself a smart phone. The make is immaterial, I’m more concerned with the impending profound change that is going to infiltrate my previously calm and disconnected life, and naturally I want to avoid any silly fan boy antics.

The one surprising but not altogether unwelcome thing about being such an incomprehensible and incongruous laggard in this department is that at this point any bloody phone will do. We’ll not any, we troglodytes still want all the shiny bits, its just that the technological chasm between even a year old phone (absolutely prehistoric) and my previous phone is.such that relatively speaking any bloody phone will do. Any modern phone would such a monumental technological leap forward…

With that in mind I got the f**king effing best one. Why not? Most shiny bits, all the right inches, so thin it’s literally terrifying. I was considering giving it its own seat and seat belt on the drive home. The first nerdstatic five minutes of fiddling I did, using both hands and sitting on the floor… This will last, of course until I do the – heartwrenching – but inevitable and test how well it bounces.

(Note: The fiance tested this out for me within the first 48 hours. Startlingly it seems I love her enough to let this one slide, like my phone. This marriage may just have legs.)

The long and the short of it is that I now have one – world beware. From blogging in bed to peppering the world with overly effects-laden photos of my bored big boned cat – you have all been warned.