A Dead God Will Fall Out of the Telephone

Why I hate telephones:

1) Bad news always comes via the phone.
2) The infernal feline attention grabbing ringing of the damned device.
3) The eternal possibility of a call in the middle of the night, bringing, inevitably, fatal or near fatal news. This has now happened to me 4 times I think.
4) The truly horrible, insistent, witch-on-crack like ringing itself.
5) Whoever it is, wants you now.
6) When really I'd rather speak to them at another time.
7) The disembodied voice at the other end is just that, a voice.
8) Phones make my bowels move.
9) Most phone conversations are ghastly, one dimensional affairs.
10) Since I last had friends, it now seems that people surf the web, check their texts, take other calls and generally do loads of stuff while they are supposedly chatting to you. What the fuck is this? Are you such a fuckwit you can't talk to another human being for 2 minutes without checking your fucking mobile? Jesus.



The title of this post is taken from a poem by Ted Hughes.