I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Monday, December 22, 2014

I Can't Believe How Stupid My Smartphone Is.

Hey. Is the boss there?
Oh my God, where are you? Where have you been? Are you alright? Man the boss is going to kill you. She called in the cops and the FBI. Were you kidnapped? Did you go on the lamb after robbing a bank?
What? No. I just went to my scheduled 2PM appointment. Look, is the boss there?
What? You haven't been seen or heard from in days. How can you be at your appointment? Ooh, did you get abducted by aliens?
Yeah right, aliens are illegal. I heard that on the internet. What do you think I am, some kind of moran?
I'm not! Can I talk to the boss or not?
Not right now. She's on her way to meet with her lawyer and insurance agent. Why don't you tell me what happened.
It's this stupid smartphone you guys gave me.
The stupid smartphone we gave you made you disappear for three days? What, did you discover Candy Crush?
No. I just typed in the address for my next appointment, and then followed the directions.
It was fifteen minutes from your previous appointment. Did you walk? No, even that wouldn't take three days. Did you pull the van? Did you dismantle the van, carry the pieces over and reassemble it?
NO! I just drove.
For three days?

We've been calling you nonstop.
I can't talk on my phone while I'm driving. It's against the law.
Ugh. You couldn't have been driving the whole time, didn't you ever stop?
Yes, I stopped at five every day. I was told; no overtime.
Why didn't you answer your phone then? We called you a hundreds of times.
Hey, after five, it's me time. I don't answer the work phone when I'm off. I leave my work at work.
You are so stupid. So where are you?
At the address! And now nobody is here. And it's snowing and I'm cold.
It's snowing?!
Are you sure that it's not just sand, and maybe you're just drunk again?
No. I know the difference. If you get sand in your underwear it itches, if you get snow in there, it makes your junk all cold and then melts and people think you wet yourself.
Why would you put snow down your pants?
D'uh! To see if it was itchy. It's not. On an unrelated note, my man parts are tingly.
Oh my gaw, too much info. You are stupid and strange man.
Abe thinks I'm plenty smart.
Abe is your lucky penny. He doesn't think anything.
He told me you were going to say that. You're just jealous.
Of what?
His shiny beard. 
Well, I have news for Abe and you. You are not a smart man. You are an idiot. Smart men don't get lost for three days when they're only supposed to be going across town.
I just did what the dummy-phone told me to do.
The smartphone told you to drive to where it was snowing?
No. Yes. I typed in the address. 1321 Elm Street, Avila Beach, California., and here I am.
It was probably just an algorithm. It couldn't find the address you were looking for because you typed in something wrong, or whatever, so it found the closest matching address through some complex algorithm. It happened to me one time, it gave me the directions to get to the McDonalds in London, England, but I had the good sense to ignore the map.
Algorithm? How does a map use rhythm to tell you where to go? I didn't even have the radio on. That's stupid. 
No. You're stupid. I take that back, you're looking up at stupid. You're in the basement of stupid. You are sub-stupid.
No, I'm not. I just might be a little lost. Go outside, and see if you can see me. I'm right under the sun. 
We're all under the sun. You're not near here, it doesn't snow here! EVER!
Well, I don't know what to tell you. I'm here and I'm freezing. Nobody is home, and I don't know what to do.
Look down at your phone. Where are you? What does it say on the address thingy?
I told you, 1321 Elm Street... Detroit, MI.
You're in Michigan?
Is Detroit in Michigan? 
Then I guess so. Is that near where I'm supposed to be?
Close. You're only 2500 miles off. Give or take. Didn't you realize something was wrong when you had been driving for three days to something that was around the corner?
I thought maybe it was a shortcut.
I'm not entirely sure you know what a shortcut is. Never mind. Now we need to figure out how to get you home.  There's no way we can trust you to get back yourself. Maybe somebody can get you pointed back West. Can you ask somebody for directions or have them program our address in the map app on your smart phone?
No. I don't see anybody. Oh look, there's a guy. Hold on, I'll ask him. Hey mister. Are you done playing hockey? Strange, I don't even see a hockey rink around here. Anyways, can you help me with my phone? Just type in the the address for me. Oh I'm sorry. I didn't notice that you had a giant hook where your hand should be. Probably shouldn't play hockey with that thing, you could hurt somebody. It sure looks sharp. Oh I get it, you're not playing hockey, you must have been ice fishing and you were using that chainsaw to cut holes in the ice. Boy that chainsaw sure has seen it's better days, huh? Is that rust? What kind of lube are you using? It's all clotty and brown and icky. You should probably take that into the shop. You want me to come closer and see for myself? OK office, I got to go, this nice gentleman's going to show me how his chainsaw works, but then I'm sure he'll help me out.
Man, we lose more plumbers that way.