Wednesday, March 3, 2010


I've always been very behind with the times. I liked Korn after they were over the hill. I only lost my virginity when I was seventeen. I watched my first Simpsons episode in 2006. I seem to always jump on the bandwagon way past the due date.

So it probably wouldn't surprise you that I have never owned an MP3 player. Whilst all the other people on my train are sitting around, fiddling with their shiny iPods, I was there with my massive silver plastic discman. I would get the strangest looks when my battery runs out and I just whip out 2 AA batteries and replace them. My reasoning was that, no, I did not need to have a million songs on me at any one song. And no, I probably don't even know a million songs.

It was only when my discman recently started skipping like an eight year old with ADHD that I changed my mind. There are only so many dirty looks I can receive from strangers when I shake my discman around on the train, trying to get it to work and read the damn CD. (They probably thought I was deluded and under the impression that I could shake my discman around like an iPhone.)

I caved in, I sold out. I just bought a 16G black iPhone. Now Steve Jobs owns my soul. And I like it.

PS I'm not being paid by Apple to write nice things about the iPhone. But if any companies would like to bribe me to write lovely things about their products, I may be so inclined to accept completely unrelated money donations and coincidentally write a favorably piece about them.