Lose My Number
You are the telemarketers who have spoiled my great gig working from home with your nonstop calls on my land line, which I use for my job. Your daily spiels for debt reduction, political candidates and (mostly) home-improvement offers so overwhelmed me I stopped picking up for a while (God bless caller I.D.). But now I'm fighting back, engaging you in fierce arguments by first responding, "Oh, so this will be free?" after being told a crew will be in my neighborhood to do some kind of project. I put one of you on hold, then got you back on with the receiver posed just above the water line as I took a monster dump (with loud grunts). The other day, one of you asswipes from a solar company asked for my son. "Do you put solar panels on sailboats?" I asked. As you fumbled for an answer, I informed you my grown son lives on a tub docked 400 miles away. Before slamming down the phone on solar boy, I relayed a message that applies to all of you: "Stick my number where the sun don't shine!"
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