Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Hey, Predictive Text!

You fucking suck!

Or, if I hadn't corrected you, "Your ducking pucker"!

Over the years, I have had my phone in my pocket right next to my no-no bits, I've answered it post-coitus, and I've even sent a text message on the toilet.

But even with these levels of deep intimacy, I have yet to figure out the intricacies that make up my phone's predictive text function.
Ok, I'll admit it. I like to swear. A lot. perhaps it's not so much a fondness as a nervous tick. I digress.

When I choose to express my discontent for a grade I have received from my post-secondary professor, I feel that it is not some software application writer's decision how I express it.
No matter how you slice it, "That's apricgq haven't medication a ducking a!" just doesn't express my fury like "That asshair gave me a fucking B!".

Because, let's face it, folks, there is no such thing as an apricgq. They went extinct the same year as the entaidbag.

No one, nowhere, wants to "Dual" your "Aunt" all night long, nor are they interested in seeing your "Thus" shake like a "Solarmid" picture.

Sigh. I guess I'll just have to go back to Multi Tap.

That's what she said.