Its official! Lancaster Uni has released a report that using cell phones is clinically addictive. People who use them, text each other with them, wait for messages, send messages become dependent. They take them everywhere – toilet, bed, bathroom, dinner – and keep texting and checking and become depressed if they aren’t texted. The process apparently is fuelled by fellow addicts. Texts fly to and fro faster than a Wimbledon volley exchange.
I find these characters rather annoying in public. They walk into my way staring at their gadget oblivious for my need for haste. I normally tell them to get the f***k out of my way before their next text is delivered from their rectum. They scarper. And then presumably text everybody about the only interesting thing that has happened to them all week.
I’ll confiscate my beloved daughter Annabel’s phone tomorrow and see if she needs medication to pull her through this cruel deprivation. I am fortunately not afflicted with telephone addiction. I don’t mind talking to people, enjoy talking to people but by and large I’d rather everybody who wants to talk, talk to people who want to talk. I’ve heard enough people talking to prefer silence. And in any case I can never find my cell phone. If I do find it, nobody calls me. So I reckon I won’t be requiring methadone or sedatives.
I shall let you know what happens to Annabel.
Tags: cell phone addiction