My blood is boiling. I’m on fire. Hide the knives!

I would like to think I’m not capable of murder, but if robo-calls were an actual person, I would slick my hair back into a shiny pony-tail, synch up my bolo tie and start chopping throats. If Steven Seagal can do it, so can I.

I want revenge! Bloody revenge!

I was downstairs and heard my phone ringing upstairs. Thinking it was an important call, I RAN TO ANSWER IT. I don’t run unless somebody’s giving away free cupcakes.

Robo-call. AGAIN! All that bouncing and heavy mouth breathing I endured flying up the stairs! For a scam! I can’t put my phone on silent because I’m expecting this call. And blocking them never works, they’ll just try another. This is the 10th time they’ve tried calling me in the past two hours, AND THEY’RE LEAVING MESSAGES!

DEAD! I WANT ALL ROBOS DEAD! (if your name is Robo, I’m so sorry – its not personal).

Remember the good ‘ol days when they were at least real people we could throat punch with our words? I recall when a woman with a thick accent told me all my computers had a virus. I let her believe I was falling for it, eventually saying “Here, take my credit card, charge whatever you want! Just help!” Delighted to help, she asked for my card number. “It’s a Mastercard, 5432-SUCK-IT.” Then she started shouting “FOOK YEW! FOOK YEW!” and hung on me and I laughed and laughed and felt so satisfied.

But with Robos, there is no satisfaction.

I haven’t felt rage like this since my sock kept slipping into my boot when I was at the mall.

I know there’s apps. They don’t work.

And now they’re texting, you guys – TEXTING!

Who is in charge? Where are our representatives?

Okay, I feel a little better just getting that off my chest. I need to go now, my phone’s ringing and I’m expecting an important call.

Forever yours,