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"equestrian horsepuffs!" i fumed. "cantankerous bronies! thou art the steve of my metaphor." i slank backwards, my sword askimber.
the hosebeast replied: "if this is a medical emergency, press zero. if you need help with medication, press one. if you are calling about a referral, helium, or magnates, press five. if you callin' 'bout gen-o-ral in-fo-mation, press four. otherwise, please press zero." "treacherous wench!" i bellowed. "i did not fight in the battle of blackberry to be subjected to such prehistoric decision trees!" i slammed the receiver down, having none of it. this was clearly more than a mere robo-call attempting to confirm a physical i didn't recall scheduling: no, this was a dr. who episode waiting to happen. i ain't becoming no robot phone. you won't take me alive "YOUR CALL HAS BEEN FORWARDED TO AN AUTOMATED VOICE MESSAGING SYSTEM" holy shit, wat, the bastard phone has taken on a life of its own "AT THE SOUND OF THE-BEEFP[depfclatter" it didn't even have time to sing daisy before i tore it from its PSTN, RJ-45 moorings. "forward this, sucka!" i yelled, michael jordaning it into the laundry hamper. jesus saves, jordan scores on the rebound, yeahhhh and that's why i use skype, but i dunno for how much longer as microsoft has started sticking their penis into the cake mix. |
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| Posted by Reverend Tedward Q. Porktanker @ 2012-12-05 22:07:59 | |
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