No Cable for Bozos

My propensity for records and vinyl, NOT VINYLS, i’m not 16, is finally displayed to its full extent. The handmade shelves and hand painted shelves have been completed after about 10 days and the music looks glorious in its slender, mainly black with the odd cabbage coloured record thrown in for good measure. 

I ordered some speaker cable because the arrangement of speakers has changed and so new cable was needed. I’m ashamed to say I went to Amazon, purely because they told me it would be here today, before 10pm. Guess whet, its 11;38 snd i’ve still no fucking cable. The stereo has been dismantled and remantled in its new home on the superb shelves, its old home covered in Photographs and ornaments, I think thats whet they’re called, so there was no going back, the bed had been made but the pillows are missing (the cables). 

Mysteriously the DPD van came into our close, parked up at the top end for a minute, I could see the lights shining down through the rain, thinking he’s going to come down, I ready myself for cable delivery; looking busy, a man with important things on his mind. But the lights swing around and the van drives off. A minute later I receive a message from Amazon telling me there has been a problem with the delivery.

“I put it to you Bezos that there is a problem with you sir.”

Within an hour he’s stepped down as the despotic king of shops. Who’s laughing now Bozos? 

But I still don’t have my cables, so I really couldn’t care less, he’ll probably have to get a job pushing trolleys around B&Q carpark next week.

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