Hear ye, hear ye, my nemesis is about to speak!
He once reigned supreme but his sticky residue is now de-throned
For the foreign help desk at the electronics’ website
Is now a chat box with hours-long delays, okay, you win!
Just go ahead and try to get a new phone, I dare you twice, he warns
Your angst with paper stickers on produce that stick in your teeth
Can’t light a candle to the one you never see or can’t understand
Should the bot wizard become akin to a blood-thirsty human
About to challenge your mental stability as your life agonizingly slips away.
Go ahead again. Try to get your throw-a-way, $1,000-phone-on-a-20-year-payment-plan to work better, NOT!
I prescribe a lobotomy to cope since rationality isn’t a trait of a programmer abroad.
Think I am exaggerating? No, your turn is coming. It’s only a matter of time as they say.
One day we will all succumb to the Son of the Sticker Man, the Help Desk with forked tongue
Just bring your alcohol, chocolate, potato chips (family-sized bag please) and expect PAIN
And don’t even try to click over to a new window while waiting my dear friend. The torture will intensify with a prompt for password you don’t even know as you get blasted out of rationality again and again.
I suppose it all makes a flip phone sound really good about now, eh? JJ
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