stellauk
Posts: 1360
Status: offline
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Yesterday morning, around 8.20am I'm woken up by the sound of my entryphone buzzer. I go and answer. 'Hello?' 'Ah hello. Is that Mr B?' 'No, it's Mizz B.' 'I'm sorry?' 'It's Mizz B. I'm transgendered. Who is this?' 'It's Television Licensing.' 'What again? How can I help you?' 'Our records show Sir that there's ...' 'Look, I've already said I'm transgendered. My first name's Stella. Call me Stella, okay?' 'Okay Sir..' 'No you listen Sir, and listen carefully. You are from the Television Licensing people. My gender identity is none of your business. Once again my name is Stella. You were saying?' 'Sir if you will let me finish. Our records show that there's no television licence registered for this address. And I've come to find out why.' 'Simple. I don't have a television.' 'And no equipment which can receive live television transmissions?' 'Well I get voices in my head. They might be from the BBC. My doctor says it's mental illness. Do I need a licence for the voices in my head?' 'No Sir.I'm afraid..' 'Well then, as I explained to the previous two visitors and in writing about half a dozen times I do not own a television. And I will repeat myself once again I am Stella, Mizz B, not Mr B.' 'But sir, our records show that you are Mr B.' 'Yeah right, and my records show that you are a bunch of f*cktards. Clear now?'
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Usually when you have all the answers for something nobody is interested in listening.
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