Another review of all smartphones ever

Divils.

The lot of them.

Since my last review of all smartphones ever, I acquired a new smartphone.  Last October.  Much shinier, much larger, and much more expensive.

Much tougher too, you’d imagine.  Was it shite tougher, ’twas no more sturdy than dandelion fluff.

The phone in question, is the OnePlus 3.  The Four, I like to call it.

It took it upon itself to also abandon me, six months in to our epic discovery of how handy technology actually is, just as I was cycling along appreciating the fact that it had actually lasted six months without a scratch.

I reached for my jacket pocket (waterproof and all, because I treated that phone like royalty hey), only to find that the Four had taken a leap for freedom the one time I hopped on my bike without zipping up my rain jacket pocket.

Off it went, not a shite given, and dived straight onto a busy Galway road, at rush hour, if you don’t mind, for fear it wouldn’t get run over and destroyed beyond repair.

Apparently the phone cover and ‘shatterproof’ screen protector were no match for the big ball of concrete which met the Four as its dream of freedom, as well as its screen, were shattered.

95% of the screen still worked, but it quickly gave up on bothering to display anything.  The lazy feck.

It has finally been fixed, almost two months later, and is generally just being class and fast and hi-tech as feck, so I haven’t spoken to a single human in person since I rebooted it, last night.  God bless phones and their ability to allow us to communicate, ha?

Divils.

A review of all smartphones ever

Update:  This post has been reproduced over on Ireland’s Technology Blog.  Exciting times for all involved.

It’s five months since I joined the world of smartphones.  (I’ve always been mad for the latest gadgets.)  I decided to upgrade from my Nokia 5310 Xpress Music.  There’s a good chance you made the very same decision, about 6 years ago.

On reflection, for me it was a poor decision.  My seven-year-old phone still works, and only has two cracks on the screen, despite becoming well-acquainted with the floor over the years.

My new phone, a Samsung Galaxy Core Prime, pales in comparison.  Though larger, it is much weaker.  Its screen lasted seven days before shattering, quite artistically, after the phone dived from my hand onto the floor, from a height of 1-2 feet.  “A bit of a soft lad”, one might say.  “‘Smart’, me eye,” others may conclude.

It has since been provided with a lovely protective cover and a solid screen protector, albeit a little too late, for poor wee Sam.

It needs charging every day, if used a lot; 36 hours on the trot would be a serious push for the cratoreen.

It doesn’t have buttons.  Well, just two, on the side.  Madness.

Its radio is just not as good as the blokia’s.  It doesn’t even work without internet.  Serious hey.

The alarm won’t go off, if the phone is switched off.  I have now had to become a crazy human who leaves their phone switched on, overnight, despite aiming to sleep.

Needing to charge the phone more than once or twice a week (ridiculous, really), and not being able to fire it across the room once I’ve the alarm set, make waking up hugely problematic.  At night, my phone stays near my bed, because that’s where the only plug sockets are, and no matter how far away I place it, I can either reach it without fully leaving my bed, or I can pull it within reach using the charger.  The result being that it is scientifically impossible to get out of bed when my alarm goes off.

There was none of that shite with old Blokky.  Alarm on.  Phone off.  Close the eyes and bam, throw the phone in any direction (gently, to avoid property damage).  Job done.  Who knew where the alarm sound would be coming from in the morning?  The only option would be to leap out of bed to find it before it woke the nation.  Bed exited.  Mission accomplished.