the turnip ain't got no blood
and I ain't got no turnip guts
so why you still trying to drain
me dry , what kind of sick fuck
becomes a bill collector, and who
the fuck you think you're talking to,
you've got a lot of balls from the other
of the phone, and I bet this is like phone
sex for you, and I bet you jerk off
when someone cries into the receiver,
'cause, your existence is to threaten
faceless hard working citizens with
terrible consequences, and it's easy to tell
even without Skype, you are missing
a heart, and a soul, and any of the other parts
that make us human, and it's not that I hate
you, 'cause you are providing a valuable
service, a picture of what I never want to be
collecting souls
collecting souls
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
Re: collecting souls
hey Walt....Skype is a modern way of communicating, internet phone calls ....with pictures if so desired......Paul Simon sung about the 50 ways to leave your lover...this is one of them...ha
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
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Re: collecting souls
I'm thinking of all kind of anti-social things to add to the chorus against phone/phony bill-collectors. The problem is I'm beginning to sound like Donald Trump----at least to myself.
This poem addresses the thuggishness of bill collectors. However, like the poem says contact with the phone bill-collector provides a model of how not to be human or inhuman as the case may be.
Interesting read
This poem addresses the thuggishness of bill collectors. However, like the poem says contact with the phone bill-collector provides a model of how not to be human or inhuman as the case may be.
Interesting read
The Irish Sea Is Always In Turmoil, Even When Calm.
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