Technology: Telecommunications Issues

I never answer my house phone.  Why?  Because anyone we want to talk to calls me or the redhead on our mobile numbers.  Since we never use our house phone, I had thought to disconnect it, but then I realized that, for $25 a month, I had a decoy number that would attract telemarketers (Do Not Call List ?...yeah, right.), political groups, alumni associations (how do those fuckers keep finding me?), pollsters, etc.  Any form that I am required to fill out that wants a phone number gets the house number.  Any douchebag who asks for my number, in those social situations where "Bite me" is an inappropriate response, gets my house number. Stockbrokers calling me with a "hot stock tip"? Buwuhahahaha! "Damn! That sounds awesome...but I need to read the prospectus first.  Overnight it to me and then call me tomorrow at (house number)."

Of course, I have an answering machine, so when these undesirables call, they get a message telling them to leave a message -- I'm thinking of changing it to something really smarmy (We're Very Sorry we missed your call and You Are Very Important to us, so Please, Please, Please leave a message and we'll get right back to you...WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER, YOU LOSER!!!  This last part won't be in the message.) -- and I dutifully hit the "Delete All" button when the display flashes the "Memory Full".

The other advantage of this strategy is that it turns my house phone into an entertainment device.  Here's the scenario:  I'm at home, I'm bored, and the phone rings.  I look at the caller ID and see that it's my alma mater.  I answer:

Me: Hello.
Earnest Student Volunteer:  This in MaiXiang from Small Eastern Technical School calling.  Can I talk to Dr. Wrath?
Me:  Dr.Wrath?? You've got a lot of fucking nerve calling here, missy!
ESV:  What? Why? What?
Me:  This is Squirrely's brother.  He never got over that Stonehenge Day incident at Small Eastern Technical School and dissolved himself in a vat of acid yesterday.  All that was left was his IHTFP t-shirt, which was polyester so the acid had no affect on it.  It was horrible and in all the papers out here.
ESV:  Oh, I am so, so sorry.  That is awful...
Me:  Oh, cry me a fucking river, chickie.  I've got 500 gallons of acid in the garage here that used to be my brother, the EPA pounding on my door, and I don't know whether to call a funeral home or a toxic waste disposal unit....[click]

Or:

Me:  Hello.
Telemarketer:  Sir...I wanted to let you know that we have a special on cleaning carpets this week.
Me: Well, that's fucking awesome, because we have 35 cats and pretty much gave up on the litter box thing two years ago.  How soon can you be here?
Telemarketer:  [click]

$25 dollars a month...I'm just saying.