I’m watching late night music TV. (Ian Dury on VH1 Classic to be precise). When one of those annoying adverts for ‘text message services’ comes on. Some bored sounding Irish woman is telling me to send off a text message to find out the initial of the man I’m going to marry.
It only costs £1.50
What surprises me is that you can even subscribe to this service so that ‘you can get your latest result every week!’.
Just how daft are people? I mean, it must work or the company would go bankrupt wouldn’t they?
And if it does work then I truly despair at the thought that the people using this service might be the same people looking after me when I’m old and infirm.
Looks like a cyanide capsule might be an essential bit of kit for my future.
You know something – I’m really rather against guns. Horrible shooty type things that the local hoodlums use to put holes in each other when they have money burning a hole in their pocket and they can’t be arsed with a knife.But there is something deliciously geeky about this concept weapon.