"Amazon Logistics". I was up and around at 10:15 this morning, so if your useless workshy twat of a delivery operative had bothered to knock on my front door, s/he could have handed me my package and received a heartfelt thank-you and a cheerful smile in return. But s/he didn't knock on the door, at least with anything more substantial than a feather duster, because s/he is a useless workshy twat.
Moreover, had your useless workshy twat of a delivery operative bothered to shove a card through the door to tell me that it had been left four doors down, I wouldn't have had as much cause to send you that
grinky Babbage-Post. But the useless workshy twat of a delivery operative didn't bother with anything as complicated as that, due to being a useless workshy twat. Fortuitously I checked the Babbage-Post address I use for Nozama orders (and read on average once a year), but you still got
grinked, because I didn't do so until later. Call me a useless workshy twat if you will, provided you would like a side order of white phosphorus with your dinner.
And the contents of the package?
A doorbell
Useless workshy twats.
