My newest gadgety distraction
3:07 p.m. Thursday, a coworker walks into my office bearing a padded envelope with my name scrawled across the front in gigantic Sharpie. I raise an eyebrow; I wasn't expecting a package. My first thought: anthrax. My second: bomb.
I decide to take my chances, so I tear open a corner, and drop a palm-sized device into my hand. What the hell?
It was this: ^_^
A color Sidekick! Last October, I hosted a LAN party at my new house. One of the guys (an ex-Effexor junkie gone clean) had promised me he'd send over his old hiptop when he got home. After six months, I'd totally forgotten about it. And here it was, resting in my hand.
I swear, I heard choirs of angels. It was frickin beautiful. Of course, he didn't send a charger ... or any instructions ... or even a note. (I've noticed this is something peculiar to guys. Every hard drive or mobo or video card we've traded out with our long-distance buddies shows up in a crazily duct-taped box -- usually not even the box the product came in -- with no manuals or anything.)
Anyway, after work, I went to T-mobile to add the Sidekick to my plan. That's when I encountered Small Problem #1: T-Mobile stores don't carry home chargers. So, in lieu of waiting a week to order one from their Web site, I bought a car charger and plugged it in. Then I drove around the 'burbs long enough for it to power on ... which is when I hit Small Problem #2: There was a frickin' security code to get into the system. And I didn't know it.
I pulled over and tried the obvious combinations: 123 and 000 and 666 and 404 (remember: this belonged to a techie). I did the math in my head. A three-digit combination ... 10 digits ... that's only 1,000 possibilities. I roll my eyes and start: 111. 112. 113. 114. And that's when I notice that after three tries, it starts to time you out for progressively longer periods before you can enter another combination. Oh, brother.
Well, to make a long story slightly shorter, after five hours, I gained access to my Sidekick. ^_^ It has its own e-mail address (katesink[at]tmail[dot]com). You can also AIM me at LemonKitty. Just let me know who you are, because I tend to block with a vengeance.
I've found decently priced Sidekick cameras and AC adapters at eBay, so chances are I'll pick them up in this week and start photoblogging, a la Logik (a.k.a. Mr. Sizzlepants). But I'll do my moblogging here instead of at Hiptop Nation, because it's just less confusing that way. ;-)
Oh! One more thing. When I was searching around for Logik's moblog, I came across the cameraphone noodle fortune-teller and the cameraphone boba fortune-teller. Take a photo of your boba (in Memphis, try Chang's Bubble Tea -- two locations) or your noodles (My buddy Sam suggests the incredibly ramyun Bowl Noodle). Then e-mail your photos to bedope ... and in 24 hours or less, fortune-tellers will predict your future based on the shapes of your food.
So, what's the verdict? Is cameraphone food interpretation crazy or inspired? Talk amongst yourselves.
3 Comments:
Just don't make the same mistake Paris did: Keep your topless photos somewhere they can't be hacked, okay? Be safe!
hee hee.
Topless photos!!! Topless photos!!!
Me have family member that am always takeing topless photos of people. We no let grandmaw have camera no more bacause she just going to take topless photo of sombody. Me think that am waste of film when picture of person no show head.
:]
I don't want to be a jerk, but I'm pretty sure that there are 59,049 combos.
You got into yours faster than I got into my cell phone, by the way.
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