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This is a question Mobile phone disasters

Top Tip: Got "Going Underground" by The Jam as your ringtone? Avoid harsh stares and howling relatives by remembering to switch to silent mode at a funeral.

How has a mobile phone wrecked your life?

(, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 12:14)
Pages: Latest, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, ... 1

This question is now closed.

Phone woe
My mobile rang the other day, and the lady on the other end wanted to speak to Julie. This was somewhat alarming, as I don't know anyone called Julie.

I have taken the matter up with Oftel, the telecommunications watchdog. Just what the blinking flip do Vodafone think they're playing at?
(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 11:29, 5 replies)
i regularly text my dad telling him that i want him to pound the shit out of me and make my arse like a japanese flag because it gives me the horn.

Then i say my mates nicked my phone and they sent it.
(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 10:53, Reply)
Sorry, wrong number.
A friend of mine worked in a train company office dealing with guards. After a major incident when calls were coming in so thick and fast it was impossible to get an outside line she decided to use her own mobile to impart some information to a guard. He evidently gave it to other guards.3 years later she still gets the odd call from a guard wanting the control office, not always at a sociable hour either. From that I learnt not to use my mobile for company business apart from ringing the office.
(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 10:27, Reply)
Chinese mushrooms
I made an accidental mistake on putting my mates number in my wifes phone.

Sean is a bit of a lunatic, and appreciates calls when lunacy is happening if he is not there first hand.

I grew a load of mexicana cubenis mushrooms - very cool they were too! So one Saturday afternoon we decided to brew a load up and while away the afternoon. Mexicana's aren't like english shrooms - they are a lot easier on your mind, and shorter lived. But you laugh a lot.

Whilst giggling our asses off at nothing, suddenly - lets text Sean. "The mushrooms are coming aaagggh i think they have got us hahhahahhh "

About 2 minutes later the phone rings. It says sean. "Hello mate, hows it hanging" is met with "What you doing" "You no bout mushroom" "What you say abou mushroo" SHIT. phone down. WTF? We looked at each other and after a few minutes thought - well done Sean. The fake chinese accent was great. very funny. lets ring him again. Chinese lady starts screaming "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT MUSHROOM" "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT MUSHROOM" "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT MUSHROOM"

Fuck. phone down and quite a few hours of confusion followed before i realised i had mistyped the number. some poor random chinese lady had been receiving quite a few odd late night texts. She can't have understood any of them as they make little enough sense to those involved. She didn't think we needed help though - what if they had got us and she simply did nothing. I like to imagine the crimewatch reconstruction even now.
(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 9:59, Reply)
Little fact
I work for a telecomms company and so far i've learned that
It doesn't cost a network operater (o2, orange ect) anything for you to be able to send a text but they still charge you 12p for it.

I should probably learn more about my job.

ohh and if your phone is stolen and then you block it people can still use it abroad as it's only blocked for networks in the UK.
(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 9:54, 13 replies)
Russian roulette texting
For some reason (probably because it's been bounced drunkenly off the floor more times than I can count) my mobile is very unpredictable... for instance it will send a text meant for one person to 5 random people from my address book!!!
This might seem harmless enough (and is occassionally funny until one drunken night when sending my chap a vodka fuelled message full of horn which went something along the lines of: "My pussy is aching for your cock, I want you to bend me over the counter top again and fuck me hard until I squirt all over the kitchen floor"... a few minutes later I get a reply, smiling to myself I quickly open the text anticipating some glorious filth from my fella only to have received a text from my mum.... "I don't have a cock, and if I did I wouldn't be using it in the kitchen! I do hope you have been using dettol afterwards" !!! Oh the shame, it made sunday lunch interesting the following day!

On another occassion after sending a text full of bitch to one of my mates all about how another friend of ours is a slag *insert lots of spite at this point* blah blah blah, pressing send and then realising that text had not only gone to its intended recipient, but also my dad, my nanna, and the (ex) friend of whom the text was referring!!!!! I got several replies not least of which from that 'friend' but the best was from my nanna who simply wrote "I could have told you that years ago, her mother was the same" lol

I still use the phone daily, it adds a touch of excitement to the day and I like living on the edge (although I have now removed all work related numbers from the address book..... well I'm not totally stupid)!
(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 7:17, 3 replies)
Very late but...
I just remembered one of the happiest moments of my life. The day I realized 'Cock' and 'Anal' can be spelled using the exact same keys on a phone.
(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 4:40, 3 replies)
A long long time ago, in a galaxy far far away...*wavy lines*
I used to work in a call centre as I have said several times before on here, anyhoom, I left an important doc on my desk, so rang the work mobile to get the manager to look after it. Not thinking put my phone in my pocket and went out on a date with my flavour of the month. Copious amounts of alcohol later, I stumble through the door with Lee, 5 seconds later we're at it like rabbits, stuff olympic gymnasts would be proud of!
The next morning feeling extremely satisfied, but hungover to hell, I was thanking the Lord Dog Almighty I wasn't in work till 2.
Get ready.
Go in.
Everybody is staring, pointing and sniggering.
So I ask the lad next to me what the hell was going on, 'have a good night last night eh?'
By this point last night was a hazy nightmare away, I'm wondering what the hell I had done while i was out, when my manager comes up to me.

Manager: This is not going to be easy to say.
Santa: What isnt?
Manager: I am taking it you had a lot to drink last night?
Santa: Yeah, why? what the hell is going on with everyone today?
Manager: There was a...voicemail waiting for us on the works mobile this morning. Do you know anything about it?
Santa: Oh god I didnt ring up last night saying how much i love everyone did i? (has happened before)
Manager: No. This was more of an...intimate nature.
Santa: huh?
Manager: Im going to play it for you.
*hands me phone, I listen, tears filling my eyes, face growing redder than a letterbox*
Manager: see?

On that voicemail was about 5 minutes of unedited, porn quality soundtrack. My Phone was in my pocket, We hadnt got fully undressed,Id not locked my phone, and had redialed the last number.
I was so happy I had already booked from the next day the week off. Humiliation didnt even cover it.
Moral of the story? ALWAYS LOCK YOUR PHONE!!!!

Length? Actually quite surprising!
(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 3:51, Reply)
Sending texts to the wrong person...
We've probably all done it at one point. Sent a text to the wrong person.
This is one of those, except I didn't accidentally text my girlfriend telling her how I was going to dump her next week or anything.

Allow me to recant...

It was a couple of years ago. I was not long in Uni and had made a few friends. One such friend was of the female persuasion, a nice girl called Dee. Dee and I were very much "just friends". There never has and probably never will be anything between us and that's sometimes the way some things should be.

So anyway, at one point Dee got with some guy called Pete. They hadn't been going out long (and as it turns out, didn't last very long either, but that's another story) so nothing had "happened" between them.
One day, while a few of us were in the Living room watching TV, at around 11pm at night, her phone went off. A text!
She picked up the phone, smiled and showed it to me. The text message read "Good night sweetheart xxx".

"Awwww!" I thought to myself, what a lovely message from Pete. Now, sadly Dee isn't the sharpest knife in the spoon drawer, sometimes, so when I took the phone from her, she didn't think much of it. I, being a mischievous little cunt, thought it would be funny to spice things up a bit, on her behalf of course.
So I hit "Reply" and typed out what I thought was a perfectly reasonable response: "I Want to bone you". Oh how I giggled to myself, with Dee being somewhat shy it would no doubt put her in a bit of a situation that would require much explanation. Oh this would be so much fun! So I hit send.

It was at that point the phone displayed the following message, much to my horror and shame:

"Sending to MUM".

Oh no. That wasn't Pete, after all. Of course it wasn't, her mum texts her good night almost every night! I knew this! For some reason, for a brief period of time, this little nugget of obviousness escaped me.

I did the only reasonable thing I could think of. I said nothing and passed the phone back to her.

Her mum visited a couple of weeks later. That was awkward.
(, Thu 6 Aug 2009, 0:35, 2 replies)
I have a Blackberry that is fail
It wasn't always this way. Back in the mists of time...ok a few months ago...I bought it as a PAYG orange phone and hacked it to work on BT - no not vodafone or O2, BT! This would now house the shiny sim card that came with the previous mobile I had as part of my broadband deal.

At first all was great, surfing the worldwide interwebs in parks, in shops, running, jumping, climbing trees...you get the picture. I LOVED MY NEW SHINY CRACKBERRY. But alas I grew greedy. I was only allowed a 10mb allowance and repeatedly exceeded this, so I phoned BT and asked them how much it would cost for unlimited data. A mere £4 per month later and a promise that it will be activated in 15 days time, I can scarcely contain the anticipation growing inside.
The 15th day arrives, I receive a text from BT asking me to restart my phone so the changes can take effect - yes it was from BT, it wasn't hacked by someone else, I've called them several times to clarify this - I go to boot up Operamini...'click here to start the connection test'. Hmm...never done that before. And that's all the internet I get out of that. I try the inbuilt browser 'please check you are connected to wifi'.

Several months of trying every permutation of changing the data settings to allow data using GPRS, wifi etc...and the best I get is a cracking signal when I'm near a wireless router and the inability to send picture messages. It's a good job it's pretty to look at or it would have gone the way of 8 nokia's in 2 months. ALSO, despite its amazing word learning abilities for most words I've used over and over, it still reverts to vent when I call someone a cunt.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 23:23, 1 reply)
Actually, the phone saved my life
This is a photo I've just sent to my wife.

(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 22:55, 5 replies)
My mum called...
(this was years ago) to see how I was, we had a nice chat, had not seen her for ages. Then she went quiet and said "you left a message on my phone last night. I could hear you buying 200 pills and shouting at someone and haggling the price. I thought you stopped all that!"

Well, I had no answer, but, from no on, when I speak about things that I wish others to not hear about, I check my phone is not calling someone. Even to this day (10 years later)
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 22:34, Reply)
Tom Baker nearly read my filth!
A couple of years ago, when I still lived with the parents and was still a student, I was upstairs while they watched something pointless about family trees and was enjoying a textual relationship with a gentleman which this evening had taken a turn for the filthy (OK, so it did this every evening, but this evening was especially so). Replying to his latest description of what he would prefer to be doing, I hit send and put my phone down... just as the house phone bursts into life and chirrups merrily. Shit.

In what at the time was a very unusual move (Stalker Boy was still calling me fairly regularly to try and emotionally blackmail me into letting him talk at me for a few hours, or as he put it, "meet up"), I ran down the stairs, barged a bemused parent out of the way and launched myself at the phone.

"Good evening, are you the homeowner? We'd like to talk to you about the great offers we have on PVC windows this month!"

I've never enjoyed telling a cold caller to piss off more!


Another, similar tale is a lot shorter and once again involves me doing something naughty involving my phone and being away from the object of my affections. A couple of Christmases ago, I was dragged kicking and screaming back to my parents' house to spend the festivities with them, and away from my then-boyfriend, who I missed terribly and who missed me equally, so much so that we spent hours each week and tons of credit on texting and calling, mostly "I miss you and my family is doing my head in". One evening, after the parents have gone to bed at the unusually late hour of 10.30, the conversation under my duvet (my parents are strangers to privacy) turns to "I miss you and I'm horny... would much rather you were here so I could do this...". This reaches a satisfactory conclusion some time later, at a whisper from my end, and we both go to bed.

The next day, my parents go to town and return to the house with a leaflet, which my father pushes into my open hands saying "This is for you!" It's a leaflet for mobile phone tariffs, and emblazoned across the front is the phrase No More Dirty Talk!

Don't try and tell me that was a coincidence.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 22:08, 3 replies)
The correct (ab)use of technology.
Back in the day when vodafone was selling cheap phones on PAYG, my younger brother was a bit of a phreak (phone hacker) and managed to find the backdoor into everyones voice-mail (2222) - or rather the default. He spent a weekend listening to the messages ...

... not to be outdone, I worked out a rather nice scam

A friend of mine just bought a new phone, he came around for the usual sunday joint (we're NOT talking meat) and brew (NOT tea). Around 10pm, I said to him "have you registered it yet ?", "no", "You know they give you £15 for registering it - but being the weekend it should be automated ... try this ... ". Long story short, he registered it 3 times using thier automated system, and once again on Monday morning.

3 days later, he bangs on the door "I got over £60 in credit!". Great, so we set to work on using the credit for our fiendish amusement.

I had one of them "text to speech" programmes on my system, typed out a few amusing lines with appropriate pauses and told my friend "Right, dial up Max" ... he did. Phone to the speaker and in a male, american voice;

"Hi max",
"er hello",
"Remember me ?",
"Erm, no - who are you ?",
"I'm the guy who took you up the ass that night you was passed out, want to do it again sometime bigboy" ?

The phone went dead, and we all laughed ourselves stupid until we could repeat the process another 3 or so times using variations of voices.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 22:02, Reply)
My mobile phone has only brought me happiness
It lets me phone home, it gives me messages from my friends, and it has a nice picture of Mr Bump on it which makes me smile.

That said, you can't get away from stupid ring tones, people speaking too loudly, others listening to music on tinny headphones, idiots using them in the quiet zone of the train at 7 o'clock in the morning...

It's everybody else's mobile phones that are ruining my life.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 21:11, Reply)
Not worth it
I was in the park with my little lad and he was having a good splash in the paddling pool. It was a nice day, the sun was shining and he was a very happy lad, smiling away. So, I decided to use my phone to take a picture to show the Mrs proof that I was a complete tool of a father.

Phone out, couple of pictures later....

A middle aged couple come wandering over and politely ask me to stop taking pictures of my son because they were concerned that their daughter (who was also playing in the pool) might end up on one of them and *~shock~* the pictures may end up on Facebook or worse - the Internet!

Anyway - a short discussion ensued and I ended it with the line "Well I wouldn't want to wank over your daughter - she's not that special"...

What I hadn't realised at this point was most of the parents were watching this discussion and the park had gone silent at this point.

Needless to say I had to make a quick get-away and bundle a semi-naked, wet child into my car.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 20:39, 8 replies)
Having the first verse of 'Gareth Brown Says' as the ring tone on your phone and forgetting to set your profile to 'meeting' at work is not a good idea. That is all.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 19:06, 1 reply)
Well I'm addicted to this.

But I don't think I've ever sent a drunk text.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 18:51, 5 replies)
At 15
My first phone was a Telital gm210e from tesco in 1998 the year pay as you go got cheap. It introduced me to the world of prank calls. The number was 07788843822 and about once a month I'd dial my number but change the end digit to a 3 and so on. I used to harass guy number 9 every time I got drunk and tell him that military intelligence were monitoring our phones with similar numbers. I wonder if he still remembers that?
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 17:41, Reply)
The phone rings in the middle of the night....
Not so much a disaster, but an odd call all the same on Saturday night.

The call came up as 'Private Number' on the screen - so it could have been a chum of mine who usually withholds her number. It being 1:30 in the morning, I decided to answer in case she was unwell (which has been known to happen). Instead of my cheery and cheeky friend, it's a male voice.

Him: 'Is this the sex line?'

Me: 'Huh?'

Him: 'Is this the number to ring about sex advice?'

Me: 'No.'

Him: 'So this isn't a line for sex advice?'

Me: 'No, not for advice.' *

Him: 'Who is this?'

Me: 'I'm a private individual. What did you want?'

Him: 'Well, I'm getting married and want some advice.'

Me: 'I'm not an advice line.'

Him: 'I don't want to marry a girl who isn't a virgin. So I want to know about if she bleeds or not, whether that means I can tell if she's a virgin.'

Me: 'I'm not an advice line, but I can answer that.'

Him: 'You can?'

Me: 'Yes. These days it doesn't mean anything.'

Him: 'Why not?'

Me: 'Everyone's built differently. A lack of bleeding isn't a sign a girl isn't a virgin, it just means she didn't bleed. Some girls are built like that.'**

Him: 'So if she doesn't have sex for two or three years, will it grow back?'

Me: 'No.'

Him: 'It'll never grow back?'

Me: 'No.'

Him: 'OK, thanks, Bye.'

And off he goes. He's not rung back for more advice so far.

* I am a contact number for a sex-related group, usually to filter out oddballs, hence the qualification.

** FFS, 1:30am is not the time for gynaecological conversations with total strangers. I know there's more to it, but not in these circumstances.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 17:39, Reply)
As a youngster at uni
I had forgotten on which particular day my mother's birthday was on. I have trouble because my parents have birthdays on the 15th and the 16th of two consecutive months (they don't have two birthdays each. Keep up.)

I did the clever thing and phoned to deliver best wishes on the 15th, only to be told that her birthday was the following day. I admitted to my confusion at this point, however a few of my mates were in the room and thought they'd better take the piss.

In mid-sentence and without covering the phone or even moving it away from my mouth I decided that the best course of action was to point at my mates and pretty much bellow "FUCK YOU!" at them. As I did this I realised my mistake and desperately covered my mouth as fast as I could in an effort to prevent the sounds escaping and getting into the phone.

Needless to say this failed and spurred my mates onto new heights of laughing at me. Mortified, I returned my attention to the phone where I could now hear my mother sniggering down the line....
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 17:20, 1 reply)
Not the sharpest utensil in the inappropriate cooking device.
A colleague at work recently performed the most comprehensive ruination of a mobile phone it has ever been my fortune to witness. It began with a simple accident that's happened to many of us at one time or another, but ended in unmitigated disaster. As this is really quite a dull story, I shall present it in the style of 24 to add dramatic tension.

10:17AM: Our hero is using the ladies when disaster strikes! Perhaps she is playing a sneaky game of Tetris, perhaps she's merely an oaf, but her mobile slips, somehow, into the toilet bowl. Panicking, she swiftly retrieves it and returns to the office. SPLIT SCREEN: Our heroine looks distraught. A colleague points and laughs.


10:21AM: The mobile is still dripping, but this does not prevent our brave heroine from switching it on to see if it still works. Nothing. Undaunted, she connects the phone to her charger in case "the water drained out the battery, innit?". Upsettingly, electrocution does not ensue. SPLIT SCREEN: A dripping mobile is wired up to the mains. Our heroine is worried. A colleague looks on in horror.


10:26AM: Drying the phone is suggested. It is disconnected from its charger and carefully wrapped in a paper towel, then placed on top of a radiator. SPLIT SCREEN: The forlorn bundle sits atop the radiator. Our heroine looks on anxiously, but not without hope.


10:29AM: Our heroine has a plan! Having decided that her phone is not drying quickly enough (perhaps she has a call to make, a call of vital importance to NATIONAL SECURITY) and with the stealth of a ninja, she retrieves her phone and sneaks off to the kitchen. Carefully unwrapping the moist paper towels, she gently places her phone down, seals the door and sets the timer. Of the microwave oven. The microwave explodes*. SPLIT SCREEN: A colleague, alarmed at the noise and smoke, rushes for the kitchen door. The wreckage of the microwave exposes the blackened and ruined corpse of the phone. Our heroine falls to her knees, an exhausted, grief-stricken expression on her face.


Credits roll.

*Sparks, then breaks.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 16:50, 11 replies)
T'was the night before before Xmas
and the jolly bosses at work had laid on a free bar at a council pub over the road. With me working in my home town and with Xmas being the season for giving I invited a few of my mates to come along and I'd go to the bar and furnish them all with free booze.

Everything went according to plan until the free bar was running out and we decided to go to one of the other many council pubs in the area. The only problem was I was in full work regalia (shirt and tie) so needed to get home, changed and out again faster than MJs final heartbeats.

I had the idea of calling mother (I was a wee slip of a lad at the time) and get her to do the necessary ironing so I could head straight back out on the razzle dazzle. Full of booze and eager to make my mates/work colleagues laugh, after I'd made the arrangements with mother and she'd hung up I said "And then I'm going to put my shirt on and shoehorn one right up your arse".

She hadn't hung up.

I went bright red.

My shirt was immaculately ironed.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 16:34, 2 replies)
Serious problems
As I bought a 1st gen iPhone which was about as reliable as a glass dummy. Replaced it with a Sony Ericsson C902 which again, has been shocking.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 16:28, 2 replies)
Dog and Bone
I worked in a vets where one of the vet nurses proudly told me this story.

They'd operated on a dog to remove a mobile phone that it had errantly swallowed. As the vet was stitching up the site he looked away, the nurse slipped her mobile phone underneath the dog and the other nurse rang it. Cue a very confused vet and two giggling vet nurses.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 15:04, 3 replies)
Predictive Text and Sizeable Choppers.
Well, once upon a time I'm going out with a lovely young filly called Sue (none of that is true, her initial was V and she was a cunt).

Anyway, Sue was quite an attractive girl and not particularly shy, but she was somewhat self conscious of her teeth. Not that they were enormous, I mean she could eat and talk to people without lacerating passers by, but they were largish and she had a lower front tooth that stuck out a tiny bit. I thought it was cute at the time, but this is before I found out she was a manic depressive with a growler like Brian Blessed's chin and the personality of a freshly raped Smiths fan.

Anyway, now that the build-up is much larger than this story justifies, I sent her a goodnight text one evening. Something along the lines of "Had a great night[lies], see ya tomorrow honey xx".

Honey being the word I'd like to focus on here. The word which requires a key sequence of 46639. A key sequence that's also used for the word 'goofy'. Which alphabetically is earlier in the selection sequence than honey.

She withheld what little affection and niceness she was capable of mustering for ages after that. Interestingly, she had a similar response to this when I told her the thing about her growler, but at least I meant it that time.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 14:48, 10 replies)
Stand and deliver
"Gimme mo money, mo money!" said the gangsta with the gun as I stood petrified on a beach in Jamaica, having already emptied the contents of my pockets twice.

I was so scared a little sick came out.

"Mo bile?" I said, smugly, before his horse shot me in the face.

Won't make that mistake again.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 14:00, 1 reply)
Emergency which service.

Many years ago I used to work for BT taking 999 and 100 calls.

Rather often the BT caller ID lookup would fail. So if you called in a 999 call we’d have no idea what service centre to connect you to, from your number as the number needed is different for each location. Most of the operators learnt a decent amount of connecting numbers by heart so you'd live. And the back up system was a basic page of text you'd have to scroll down for ages!

However, if you called in from a mobile and didn’t know where you were. You were about as fucked as you could be. We'd have to go off and get a big book binder of mobile mast numbers and connect you that way. It was rare to get mobile 999 call and the system being down and the mobile look up system being down. But when it all was it would take 10 mins to sort out.

I filed a report on the BT bug reporting system about it. I used lots of swear words. About 30mins after I pressed send I almost got the sack but when you've just dealt with a call like “How’s the neck bleeding? Or “Can your baby still breath?”. They had to agree it was shite situation to be in!

I've been at the other end of some very nasty Mobile phone disasters which i'd rather not have to think about again (thanks!).
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 13:27, Reply)
Serves me right for having such a shite ringtone..
The Headmaster came to see me to tip me off that the head most scary OFSTED inspector was coming to see me teach my super loopy 12 year olds. Much sleep was lost, many hours were spent cutting up sorting cards and devising super cutting edge teaching resources and most importantly I rounded them all up and warned them that this was a very important lesson, that I wanted them to try their very best and that if anyone dicked about I would cause them intense physical pain with my bare hands and go round their houses and kill their pets. The day dawned and they all...bless them..behaved themselves, asked questions and generally did me proud. Until five minutes before the end of the lesson when MY mobile phone in my pocket begins to blare out "Something kinda oooooh" which sparks the whole bloody class singing along. I leap across my desk to retrieve the phone from my jacket pocket, turn it off and bellow "QUIIEETTTTT!". The whole class go silent apart from one lad carrying on the conversation he'd just started with his mate.."...well I'd definitely shag Cheryl cos she looks well dirty" Luckily the inspector was a nice bloke, I begged him not to tell the Head and swore I would never forget to turn my phone off again ever, nothing more was said and I still got a good report.
BTW if you are a teacher make sure you delete anything even remotely dodgy on your phone..one poor lady scientist dropped her phone in the playground and by the end of the week the whole of Year 11 had seen her giving her chap a lapdance. Ouch.
(, Wed 5 Aug 2009, 11:50, Reply)

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