After a marriage break up you suffer a bit of a lack in confidence in your romantic abilities, but you get back on the bike (the metaphorical bike, not a woman) and return to the dating scene. I’ve met some lovely women but so far any relationships I have had have been as serious as a Carry On movie – without the hanky panky and Barbara Windsor cupping her bare ample bosom.
So today I was rather exctied when I received an early Valentines Day message on my mobile phone, in the form of an animation which talked about boxing up flowers and hugs and wishing me a Happy Valentines Day. Thinking it was some kind of e-Card I eagerly checked to see who sent it, hoping it was someone in particular.
It was from Telstra.
Fuck you Telstra. Why are you wishing me a happy Valentine’s Day for? Do you want to fuck me Telstra, like you did when you sent me that $545 bill after forgetting to bill me monthly?
Why do you get a person’s hope up that he might be up for some booty only to find it’s some cruel spam thought up by some cunt with a ponytail named Lance, who wears a suit made from fibres not known to nature.
That’s the lowest of the low Telstra. Cruel bastards!
First published at Club Wah, February 12, 2009
Ducking Cynthia 