Well today is no better.... the red glow bouncing back off the mirror means I can't see the stubble... and shaving by touch has resulted in quite a few nicks
... which is some feat with an electric shaver. 
Anyhow, mrs starkers seems to think that if I fess up to what I did after being so vehement, the red face might subside enough that paramedics down the shopping centre first aid room won't be rushing to get the oxygen mask on me next time.
First off, I need to explain that I was placed under extreme duress when very valid reasons were given as to why I should concede.
Well here goes nothing.... I bought myself a mobile/cell phone.
Now before you bastards go calling me a weakling woos or a turncoat on my own principles, I put up a determined resistance and employed various evasive manouvres before finally caving in. I mean, when I've made up my mind I stick to my guns and neither hell or high water with budge me... usually. However some certain people know how to persuade me otherwise...
For example, mrs starkers was at the phone shop counter looking at the available options for me, and I decided that I needed to go to the toilet, where I hid for a while hoping she'd give up on the idea. No such luck! She got one of the security guards and told him that I might be loitereing in one of the centre's male toilet facilities and that he should return me to her immediately, which he did while giving me some rather peculiar looks.
When it was decided that I should have a basic $29.00 unit connected to Vodaphone, I threw a tantrum, stamped my feet and sobbed uncontollably fo about half an hour. Hmmph, I figured the store clerk would call security on me for a second time and have me ejected, but again, no such luck. She recognised that I was old school and was understanding of my fear of the new technology. Shit, I even got down on the floor and performed several 360's on my shoulder, but I probably looked more like a disabled breakdancer with a nervous tic than a tantrum chucker, so I gave in and bought the fucken phone.
Okay, bullshit aside, I was convinced to get a mobile phone because we have been spending way too much calling Bianca down in Tassie and we wanted to reduce our communications costs to put OUR money to better use.... and unlimited text and voice using Vodaphone to Vodaphone will certainly do that. I have mine,Shaunna has hers and Bianca picks hers up on Monday when she returns from a camp.
Up until now, we have had to ring Bianca using our landline to ring her mobile because Telstra [our major telco] won't use the fully functional landline already present at her address because they didn't installt it. No, they want her to spend $360 to put in 10 metres of cable to a property she neither owns or intends to remain at... and without Telstra's co-operation, none of the other telcos can provide her a service.
Also, my son and his partner are with Vodaphone, as are some rellies of Shaunna's, so it makes sense that we opt into the same network and plan to take advantage of almost unlimited contact.
So why do I need a Vodaphone mobile if Shaunna already has one? Well we're not always together and if I need to remind her to pick up some bread or milk on the way home, I'm nor racking up the landline bill. Also, if Shaunna is out and incommunicado for various reasons, and Bianca [or others] need to get in touch cheaply, there's now a second option,
Oh, and if anyone thinks I've abandoned my safety concens, I have taken precautions while using my new mobile. First off, before I even use it, I don a protective wetsuit with a thermal reflection barrier and full-face mask. Then I use a 4 metre stick when I need to push any buttons; and thirdly, I put it on speaker phone and stand on the opposite sidse of the room... to be sure, to be sure.
You lot mightn't place any credence on any of this cell phone antenna radiation doing queer shit to peoples brains, but I'm not taking any chances.
