Having had some success at repairing Palm's (two Visor Edges, a Tungsten T and a Tungsten E live on thanks to my efforts), I felt rather confident about repairing my sisters T3. "Is the screen broken?" I said. No. "Okay, so what does it do?". Nothing, she replied. It won't turn on. "And how long has it been broken?". Oh, about two weeks. Since I last visted New York. "Fine. Bring it round and I'll take a look."
The poor thing was soaking. It had been marinading in hair lacquer for a fortnight. The noxious liquid has seeped behind the digitiser and, when I dismantled it, I discovered that the circuit boards were covered in a thick fur of green and white corrosion. Palm T3? Rest In Peace.
Her iPod Mini was similarly soaked and damaged. As with the Palm, I tried to turn it on before dismantling it. Remarkably, it fired up briefly before shutting down with a hard disk fault. Further investigation revealed that the hard disk was fine - but that the hard disk controller was irrevocably broken. iPod Mini? Also RIP.
She wants to get an iPod Nano now. Should be okay if she keeps it in a condom to protect it from the noxious substances that it'll be sharing her handbag with. As for the Palm, apparently that'll be replaced with a Blackberry. Blegh. As for me, I'll be sticking with my Tungsten T (aka m550) - I brought it back from the dead, and it's now my faithful servant. Must be gratitude.
Having had some success at repairing Palm's (two Visor Edges, a Tungsten T and a Tungsten E live on thanks to my efforts), I felt rather confident about repairing my sisters T3. "Is the screen broken?" I said. No. "Okay, so what does it do?". Nothing, she replied. It won't turn on. "And how long has it been broken?". Oh, about two weeks. Since I last visted New York. "Fine. Bring it round and I'll take a look."
