Cell-Phone Ditty

O, I do sincerely hate the AT&T store,
A visit there always makes my asshole sore.

They rob you and rape you and, o! how they hate you,
For interrupting their coffee-break, at eleven-o-two.

They hit you with charges and extras and fees,
They'll stomp on your balls while you're down on your knees.

And they know that they've got you for two more long years,
As they shove bluetooth headsets and such in our ears.

I tried to avoid them by shopping on E-bay,
For a refurbished Treo, way back in the day.

But it liked to shut off and take frequent naps,
I thought it would pass, just a phase now, perhaps?

But, no, the phone showed it had a mind of its own,
And it died a few deaths in a constant dead zone.

So I'm back to the store with tail between legs,
While for a small bit of lube my raw asshole begs.

And while I've got a sleek, cool new friend on my belt,
My dignity and pride has sustained a nice welt.