Happy With Predictive Text?
How often does predictive text get the better of you? I’d like to say “never.” But for some reason my phone comes up with the weirdest things. I’m happy to laugh about it of course. But it’s hard to imagine how happy recipients feel when they get such bizarre messages.
“Okay I’m ready to roll. Let’s find a nice place for lunch before noon” became “Okay on trade rickroll. Less fibs are nice. Phew for lungs but doin.”
“Don’t know what’s wrong with my phone. Just keeps acting up” translated into “Don’t have ways wrong. Sort phone. Ohhh hussylips to avoid.”
And “Hey that’s a great idea. Haven’t played Pictionary in ages” turned into
“Tara geet. I hart players picturikub in shreds.”
But it gets worse. Sometimes it is truly embarrassing. Like when I mentioned Terri and Helmut in a text last week my friend wondered what “terrorist genital” meant. I’m happy to say they understood. In part, because my friend once had a phone like mine too.
So I have to ask you, are you happy with your predictive? Do you sometimes get into hotwater because of what some indifferent phone does to your text?
Ruth isn’t happy. She and the boys reckon it’s me not my phone. But I have no way of proving the slurving of my curds hess nuffing to dooh with me. Except to invite you to test for yourself. Get your phone now. Do it. Send a text. But do it fast, looking elsewhere as you do. Now look. What do you get?
Of course you’ve probably got a good model. Mine is the cheap and cheerful kind. Called the Happy Peanut 2000 or something like that, it came with complete instructions in Mandarin. But I’m happy to the back teeth that it has any features at all. Firstly, the battery life is incredible, lasting nearly a week. The backlit screen works well and and I’m happy to report all the buttons work. What else? Oh yes, it comes complete with the all impertinent feetcha ov preductive tixt…
Now you come clean. Are you happy with phone’s predictive powers?
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