After taking pity on me for being behind the times the powers that operate the universe have finally relented and granted me the gift of a smart phone. All they ask in return is my eternal devotion, a monthly tax and a blood sacrifice at every full moon.
Obviously I'm just kidding about the eternal devotion and sacrifices.
It's not an iPhone.
So here I am fully Androided up and supporting various edible-sounding softwares like . . . Gingersnap and . . . Icecreamy cake or something, all designed to sound fun sound easy to use, hinting that setting it all up is as easy as eating a snack.
Two weeks later and I think I've finally managed to attach my magic phone to an invisible internet tube with a blogging valve, so this is a test post to test out a post. Then after I've posted I'll check the test post, post-test.
This keyboard is touch sensitive, but if it doesn't recognise one of my key strokes then I still find I jab the screen really hard, as if I'm blogging on a 19th century typewriter made all of brass and moustaches.
In conclusion, I think we can all agree that technology has come a long way since moustaches, and I now need to discover if I can edit, preview and up- (or possibly down) load a photo.
The world needs to see the spider my 4 year old son drew on his magnetic sketcher.
I bet you're glad you stopped by now.