We really wish that Cortana, Siri and Google Now could sort us out when we drank too much, rain fiery vengenace on phone thieves and tell when we’re in a damn foul mood…
After reviewing the British Cortana, I couldn’t help but feel slightly unfulfilled. She may have a good ear for music and pop up with handy reminders, but can she save our place at the bar? Could she lift our spirits when we’re feeling down? Would she help us dispose of a body when we have one of our ‘funny turns’? (Actually, Siri’s your best bet there).
Here’s my top five features I wish my smartphone virtual assistant actually had…
Best birthday ever
My mates are a bit crap when it comes to birthdays. Even after non-stop sledgehammer hinting and elbow-prodding for a full month beforehand, I’m lucky to get so much as a mumbled ‘have a good one’ or a 20p card from the corner shop.
But with my cool new smartphone assistant, every birthday could be the most awesome ever. Surprise cake deliveries at lunch, surprise stripper orders at 3pm, and so on. Still, at least the current crop of assistants can direct me to that corner shop, so I can buy up all the birthday cards, address them to myself and then look like the most popular guy ever. Win.
Sense your mood
Perhaps as a result of my poor diet and irritable bowels, I find my mood often flips all over the place throughout the day. I’d really want my smartphone assistants to pick up on my mood, via tone of voice and frequency of cursing, and respond appropriately.
If I’m having a bad day, she could handle my vitriol with soothing, calm responses and perhaps suggest we go for a pint to talk it over. If I’m on top of the world, she could be as chirpy as she likes and maybe play some Katrina & The Waves to accompany my merry strutting.
Give spam the finger
Although modern phones already have call monitoring features and apps, which can effectively block annoying spam calls, it’s not enough. I don’t want my phone assistant to block those calls, I want her to answer and tell those PPI twats to do one when they try harassing me for the tenth time that day.
Salesman: “Hi there, I’m calling about your car accident…”
Evil Cortana: “Do one, you parasitic scumbag leech! I hope your underwear turns into a dozen hungry piranhas, you tedious pawn of greed and misery!”
Warn you when your phone’s being nicked
Recombu has already shown you how to catch a phone thief using apps, but my ideal smartphone assistant wouldn’t just alert me on the sly that it’s been nicked. It would go all Home Alone on the dirty thieving git, making sure they never touched another man’s mobile ever again.
To start with, the assistant could issue a stern warning to the offender, telling them politely to return the handset, or else suffer the consequences. If that doesn’t work, we progress into Operation Vengeance.
First off, the assistant would launch a full-on aural assault, playing dodgy tunes by Justin Bieber at full volume through the phone’s speakers. If that doesn’t shame the thief into ditching the handset, we step up to physical pain.
The next time the thief’s face is detected by the front-facing camera, the assistant would spray mace right into their grubby gurning mug. Or if she senses that the phone is in the freeloader’s pocket, she could redirect remaining battery power directly into the thief’s loins, effectively incapacitating them.
I’d also like the assistant to delete any incriminating evidence on the phone if she detects unauthorised use – dodgy bookmarks, embarrassing drunken photos etc.
Protect us when we’re drunk
Fair enough, the existing assistants can already plot us a route home when we’re steaming drunk. But as a raging alcoholic, I need an assistant that can figure out when I’m three sheets to the wind and react appropriately.
Stage one, diagnosis. Even if the gyroscope doesn’t pick up on me wobbling all over the place like a massive jelly tub of lard, she should detect other warning signs. For instance, composing an email to exes, or demanding a route to the nearest chicken shop.
She would then merely pretend to send all texts, emails and tweets until the following morning, when in fact she’s storing them away in the ‘sin bin’.
The following morning, she’d call my boss and emulate my voice, pretending to be phoning in sick with severe stomach cramps. She would then troll Facebook and other social media websites, automatically deleting any incriminating photos that may have popped up.
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