Nov 8, 2015

Drunk It, I'm Fuck



     So. Halloween is far gone and thank fuck for that. Don't get me wrong, I'm up for any excuse to get drunk and look stupid, even if it is thanks to the Americans stealing a Celtic pagan tradition and making a big spectacle of it, but still, I'm glad that's done and over with. Now, we can all relax, put away all the pumpkins and skeletons and costumes, sober up, dust ourselves off — and wait for another opportunity when it's socially acceptable to get shit-faced and act like a bunch of monkeys, be it to celebrate someone's birthday, Thanksgiving, New Year's Eve or just some random house party and I'm sure we won't have to wait for too long. But in the meantime, I have a plea. Since I'm not entirely certain whom I should address it to, I'm just putting it out there because I remember someone once said, 'Ask and you shall receive,' so let's see if that someone was a big lying phony or not.
    What am I asking for? Easy. I need my phone to prevent me from typing when I'm drunk. Like really drunk and like really prevent. And I know for a fact that I'm not alone in this, I know that this is an acute issue of our time so I honestly don't know why the fuck it's still an issue. That shit should've been solved ages ago. Yes, there were steps taken towards remedying the problem but those are ... not sufficient, to be polite. And definitely not effective. Or helpful. Or thorough. Or ... ok, let's call a spade a spade, they're lame, fuck polite. Sure, I can get an app that will prevent me from dialing or texting anywhere from 6 up to 12 pre-selected numbers when I'm drunk, but for it to work I need to turn it on beforehand. When I'm still sober. When I still think, 'Don't worry, you got this.' When I'm still utterly unaware of the sleeping misspelling illogical monster inside me I keep poking by downing drinks. I mean come on, the target audience of those apps is by definition unpredictable and irresponsible, that's why it needs some app to step in and handle their shit but in order for the digital chaperon to engage, the said audience first has to a) predict that it will get drunk and b) act responsibly. I told you — LAME.
     And besides, what if you have more than 12 ex boyfriends, ex girlfriends, former/current lousy bosses, mother-in-laws, step brothers, hot crushes, local priests or whomever you most certainly DON'T want to contact in your slurring stage? Or what if, like in my case, you simply want to be prevented from drunk typing altogether? Because I'm literally going to sell my phone if I wake up another morning and find out that the misspelling illogical monster replied to a bunch of Instagram comments and tweets on my behalf, quite wittily though, if I may say so myself, but oll typped up. I sack at spieling as it is, I don't need the stupid monster to bring me down even more, I really don't. And I'm definitely not giving up the drinking, na-a, I'm not throwing in my drinking glass, this girl's no quitter. So what then? There's no hope? No light at the end of tunnel? No avail? No solution? Yes, it is. And not just one, there are two, at least the way I see it.
     First one is very unlikely to happen, but it's possible so I'm throwing it in merely as an option for the big phony above. Surprisingly, the answer to our problems lies in Hollywood, or better yet, at the Hollywood A-list, or even better yet, at their feet. Do you know who Lindsay Lohan is? Or Eve? Or Michelle Rodriguez? Or Nicole Richie? You do? Great. Now, what do these girls have in common? A vagina? Sure, and other body parts too, but there's something else. They all wore an alcohol monitor ankle bracelet at one point, because they got drunk and did stupid things one too many times so the court ordered them to get one. So how do those work? Every thirty minutes they measure alcohol levels in one's sweat because whenever you drink, you eventually sweat alcohol, apparently it's that simple. And since the device offers 'flexible monitoring levels for multiple needs', as their site says, here's what I need: I need them to put their science thingie on my phone so when I grab it to text, type or call, it'll immediately know how drunk I am and shut down if my sweat says I'm too drunk to spell. Can we do that, please? Pretty please? Preferably till the next weekend?
     Of course we can't, I told you, that option is unlikely to come to life, but there is one that's a lot less complicated — to implement that is, because it would be bitch to solve and that's the almighty CAPTCHA. I've already written about those little nuisances, so trust me, I'm pretty shocked that I'm actually turning to them for help but in this case, I think they're the prefect solution: I want my phone to be locked with a password, but not just any password, a CAPTCHA password, a constantly-changing, 13-digit, case sensitive, both letter and number CAPTCHA password. Which you have to type in in 60 seconds or less. And you only get two tries. And then your phone shuts down completely (except for emergency calls). And you have to wait for two hours before you can try again. That's what I need and want on my phone so if any of you tech-whizzes out there like the idea, feel free to run with it — just give me 10% revenue.
     So when I'll get a phone that will know how to do that, that's when I'll call it a smart phone. Until then, I'm just calling it average, an average phone, a sad, miserable, annoying little average pho... Oh, look — alcohol!





     Thanks for stopping by and looking and reading (obviously) my mishmash jumble of pot-pourri-like craziness, it means the world to me. Therefore, you're welcome to pop by again next week to see what's new on the blog — I post once a week every week, most likely on Wednesdays. But beware, I'm not signing and sealing that in blood so your best bet is to follow FPS via email (or Bloglovin, Twitter, Instagram or Google+) to never miss an update. Or simply come by again sometimes!


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