The Phone Conspiracy.

Hello.
I think there is a conspiracy to stop me watching friends and talking to Bev and me writing on my pretty babbling blog.
THERE IT IS AGAIN! ITS BLOODY RINGING AGAIN!
EVERYTIME I TRY TO SIT DOWN AND WRITE IN MY PRETTY BLOG. The Phone starts ringing.
Aaaah! I'm just happily typing along and then suddenly, from deep in the evil of downstairs.
RING! RING! PICK UP THE BLOODY PHONE!

WHY MUST IT INCESCENTLY, CONSTANTLY RING. I PUT IT DOWN IT RINGS AGAIN.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Phones, are very rude. It's like walking into someones office and shouting SPEAK TO ME NOW! SPEAK TO ME NOW!
So anyway. That's the conspiracy.

Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go set fire to the phone and listen to it sadly ring as it melts into the Ringing Abyss.

Sam.
Phone Burner.

Update: Right after I wrote this, I sat down to talk to Bev and the phone rang again.
It was one of those messages that are pre-recorded - so I shouted as much abuse as I could before throwing the handset back down. And ran upstairs to hide from the evil, phone.

Note for the fire department or anyone who thinks I'm dangerous: The phone was never on fire. Honest. The phone came in that colour, yes, Ash Black in melted phone style.