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We receive a lot of junkmail.
When I say 'a lot', I mean 'loads and loads' of it.
Tonnes.
The volume really is sensational.
Now, I realise that all I need to do is put some sort of sign/sticker out asking 'politely' to cease the endless stuffing of our letterbox that creates a virtual waterfall of useless information, promotional activity, and local food takeaway gumpf.
Alas, I'm too lazy to deal with the situation.
Every time I look at the front door there is a melee of activity in and around the postal portal and/or the immediate floor-level vicinity.
Every time I look at the front door I think I really should put some sort of sign/sticker asking 'politely' to cease the endless stuffing of our letterbox that creates a virtual waterfall of useless information, promotional activity, and local food takeaway gumpf.
We get a deluge of propaganda from local estate agents, blankly canvassing for business, asking us whether we're interested in selling our house.
This started the day after we moved in, and includes literature from the very people that we had just bought the house from, curiously requesting the possibility of us immediately selling the property that we had just purchased.
That prompted a strongly worded letter, after a period of continual bombardment:
"Surely you don't expect us to sell?...We've just moved in...and you helped us move in..." (pre-watershed, heavily edited version).
I was in the kitchen when I heard the letterbox rattle, again, and a biblical flood of paper noisily hit the deck alongside the welcome mat.
"Aww...will ye just PISS. OFF!", I shouted, louder than intended.
It was just the postman, delivering our regular mail, including some important documentation that I'd been waiting a week for.
I felt ashamed of myself for the slur, and apologised to him, under my breath, after he'd left.
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