Army of Dave Solves iPhone Reception Issues

So you’ve got your iPhone. Made to wait in a humiliating line outside the shop, enduring the ridicule of passers-by who do not yet require an electronic device to fill the void where their soul used to be.

But you’ve discovered that, when making telephone calls, the signal strength drops and you sometimes get disconnected. Once you’ve discounted the possibility that the other person has simply hung up on you because you keep banging on about your bloody iPhone, you can only conclude that there must be a fault.

Sure, Apple have begun shipping free cases but that would ruin the aesthetics and smooth lines of the design. Plus people won’t know that YOU’VE GOT AN iPHONE 4! Which was kind of the point of you getting it in the first place.

Ladies and gentlemen, worry no longer. What you need is an iGlove:

Army of Dave Enterprises’ top engineers have worked tirelessly through the afternoon and produced this ergonomically designed rubberised phone augmentation.

Designed to eliminate conductivity and contact with your phone’s aerial, you will be able to shout “I’M ON THE TRAIN!!!” with neither lost calls nor people wondering what kind of phone you’re using.

Available For the Left Handed:

As Well As the Right Handed:

Apple CEO Steve Jobs had this to say about the iGlove:

“Who are you? How did you get this number? You’ve done what?! I’ll get in my private jet, fly over and kick your limey ass. Well, I would do but my plane doesn’t work in the rain. It’s not an issue, though. All planes don’t work in the rain.”

Steve Jobs, Yesterday

Available direct from Army of Dave Enterprises for £14.99.

Army of Dave Enterprises. The Future Is Now!

UPDATE:

The iGlove celebrity endorsement has flooded in:

Yes. Pretty Bloody Chic. So will they all be wearing them in Shoreditch soon?

Bugger.

Have You Seen The Queen’s De Niro Impression?

It’s Fucking Awesome.


Queen To Attend Buckingham Palace Garden Party

The Daily Mail Embraces The Internet

While looking around the Daily Mail website (I know. I know.), I stumbled upon this interesting item:

Internet Explorer 8? Customised for MailOnline, you say?

The problem is, it all works fine until you try and look at something other than the Mail’s website:

Daily Express Hits New Low

Now the Express is claiming that people from Poland employed as cleaners can give you cancer!

Oh. Wait. They mean like Mr. Sheen don’t they?

Sorry. I just see the word “Polish” on the front page of the Express and immediately assume that they’re being offensive about people from overseas.

Carry on.

A Young Man’s Guide To Musical Theatre

I’d like to write a musical one day. Possibly involving a Zombie Chorus Line. The only obstacle standing in my way is my complete song-writing ineptitude.

Musicals have a bad reputation amongst men of my generation. It’s possibly something to do with the suspension of disbelief. We sit there muttering “Why has some mentalist started singing in the streets? What’s going on? How does everybody else know the bloody words? If that happened in London you’d just try to not make eye contact”.

So I’ve compiled this handy guide to the important musicals:

Wicked

A prequel to The Wizard of Oz’, it deals with the Wicked Witch of the West’s descent into evil because she’s green’n’shit. Basically, it’s “Revenge of the Sith” with show tunes.

Oliver!

A bunch of unconvincing mockney wankers run around doing blags. A massive influence on the work of Guy Ritchie. Responsible for my fear of movies with exclamation marks in the title, like ‘Moulin Rouge!’ and ‘My Dinner With Andre!’

Jersey Boys

Documents the formative years of  a young Jim Bergerac.

Les Miserables

A cult classic where the audience like to dress up like Jean Valjean and hookers and throw brioche at the cast. Actually, I might be confusing this with ‘The Rocky Horror Show’.

Cats

The Better Half has seen this one and she assures me that, disappointingly, nobody attempts to lick their own bollocks. Apart from bored audience members.

The Phantom of the Opera

Famously starred Frank Spencer. The spectacular climax features him roller-skating through the Opera De Paris while carrying a giant blamanche. With hilarious consequences.   

Joseph And The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat

Joseph’s dad buys him a really cool jacket and his envious brothers throw him in a giant hole.

Christ on a bike, I was jealous when my brother got an AT-AT for Christmas but I didn’t sing a fucking song about it. And an AT-AT is much better than a coat. Technicolour or otherwise.

Grease

This one is awesome purely for Olivia Newton-John’s trousers. I was six years old and I had feelings I felt guilty about but didn’t understand why. (See Also: Princess Leia in the Gold Bikini)

Mamma Mia

A woman goes on holiday and tries to figure out which of three men is her father. Because in the world of Abba, Jeremy Kyle and DNA testing do not exist. Destroyer of a thousand karaoke nights.

Starlight Express

The smash hit, record breaking musical about singing trains. Wait. What?

Hang on. I’m just going to look at Wikipedia….

Yep. I shit you not.

Singing. Trains.

Exactly how much crack were Stilgoe and Lloyd Webber on?

I hope that this has been of use.

Dave Is Being A Film Snob

If you know me personally, you will be fully aware that I tend to cry like an eight year old with a skinned knee during films.

Particular highlights include bursting into tears while simply describing the funeral scene in “Cry Freedom” to Kid A, borrowing a stranger’s tissues while watching “Philidelphia” (I can’t be bothered to look up how to spell it correctly) and – well – simply sobbing for the entire duration whenever I watch “It’s A Wonderful Life”.

The BBC news website has an article on males crying during films here. It’s quite interesting.

But my favourite bit is this comment:

As a man who “gets something in his eye” at the end of Terminator 2, even I demand that Mat gives his bloke licence back.

‘Mrs Doubtfire’ and ‘The Santa Clause’?

AND HE WATCHED THEM AGAIN?!?

Once was enough for me. I put it to you, Mat, that you weren’t crying over the emotions the films brought to the surface but more the fact that you realised that this was at least 6 hours of your life you were NEVER GETTING BACK.

“I still can’t watch them”.

Neither can I, Mat. Neither can I.

Because they’re rubbish.

When he says “fortunately the situation they had never happened to me”, I presume he meant losing a custody battle rather than dressing up as an elderly woman or becoming Father Christmas?