I broke eleven iPhones in a year

Unlike cats, iPhones don’t have nine lives.


I currently trot around with my 11th iPhone in my back pocket. So I feel it is important to remember the devices who lost their lives at the slip of my hands.

I imagine that the way a father feels when he holds his tiny, precious child for the first time in his arms is exactly the same as that overwhelming love and joy you feel when you get a new iPhone.

As you smile at the device resting in your hand, you look at it and think this time, yes this time, I'll look after you. But the novelty wears off, and as time goes on, you become more and more reckless.

Blessed am I with insurance, for few devices have lived with me for longer than 5 months.

RIP to the one that fell down twelve flights of stairs

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Imagine your phone falling through this. Yeah I don't.

Like Bolt I shot around the corner and arrived at the top of what can only be described as a concrete mountain. Conveniently the architects decided to leave a gap under the bannister of the stairs, just large enough for an iPhone to slip through. That's exactly what mine did.

From the top, looking down I watched my child plummet relentlessly to the floor. Gravity taking its life. Tears fell.

RIP to the two that went down the toilet

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Apparently this is quite a common one, but also one that is hard to explain to the insurance companies.

Drunkenly stumbling into a toilet cubicle of a dirty night club I innocently pulled down my jeans to do what anyone does in the loo.

Yet, before I had the chance to sit down, a strange noise (*plop*, to be specific) was made. Both confused and dazed I turned around to inspect.

There, floating in the toilet water, was my phone. To my surprise it was still working when I fished it out, until I decided to plug it into the wall and charge it. To put it politely, my phone had a seizure that night.

RIP to the victim of the hair straighteners

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Hot. The straighteners are very hot. Somehow or other this iPhone managed to catapult itself from my desk and land directly on the irons of my straighteners.

A sizzling noise and a lot of cracking. It was, at the end of this scenario, completely unusable. Thank god Christmas was only two weeks away.

RIP to the ones that have no cause of death

There is no information to disclose here, other than I went on a few nights out and I woke up a few times phoneless.

RIP to the victims of the streets

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By the motions of my arms, three or four phones have flown out and teleported from one end of the street to another; only to shatter into fragments of glass.

iPhone number eleven has recently been provided by my sibling after iPhone the tenth lost its life during my intense training to become Rocky (my housemates have boxing gloves, it seemed like a good idea).

Thanks, EE. I don’t know what I'd do without your insurance.