I love the phone. I am addicted to the phone. I love Caller ID and changing my answering machine. I get so excited when I change my answering machine that I feel like printing up flyers and littering them all over bathrooms and stuff just to see who will call me and how they will respond to my lunacy. I wish I could litter them in New York so that I could hear some rude stereotypical New Yorker messages. Too bad littering the flyers 3000 miles away would be a tad bit hard.
You know what else rules? My phone number was accidentally printed on a whole shitload of flyers (it was a typo, heh!) for this place called the Private Industry Council that helps people train and get jobs like truck-driving and technician work. So I get all these people looking for jobs saying, "That message is very unprofessional... I don't know what you guys are trying to pull." Anarchy. That's what I make with my machine. This one time I even got a message saying, "I don't know who that message is intended for, but you need God in your life, honey. I hope you find him, and bless you. Amen." It made my socks rock and roll!
I am a phone number whore. I don't care who has it or abuses it. Except it sucks when my voicemail fills up and my machine just hangs up on people. Then they get mad at me and go, "God Damn IT!! I tried to call you but your mailbox is full!" But then I just feel extra special because it means a lot of other people had to fill it up in order for it to be full. Ah yes, FUN!
Now I am ecstatic. Someone call me! I'll clean out my mailbox!
It's full right now *evil grin*