You Know What I Hate About

ONLINE MERCHANTS? No foreplay. Not even a dry kiss on the cheek. They want to get straight to the hard pumping. Gimme your email address. Make a login. No, “I love you long time.” not even “Fi’ dollah!”

I don’t care if Spotify is the greatest thing since Toaster, why do I need to let them get their hooks in me to find out what the various offerings are and how much they’re gonna cost me?

As Rhymin’ Simon put it, “I don’t believe all I read in the papers/They’re just out to capture my dime…”

Papers used to cost a dime?

Yeah, Dolly. Disgusting, innit?

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