Hello, How Are You Today?...Click...Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

I am on a list somewhere - and I want off it!!
I'm not sure how I got on this list but, over the last six months, I have been getting anything up to 10 cold sales calls on my landline every day. The final straw came today when I heaved myself off my sickbed for the third time to answer the phone, only to discover it was yet another arse trying to flog something.
I am still feeling as rough as a badger's backside and yet when I answered each time, sounding like Lee Marvin singing on a third normal speed, the dimwit at the other end opened with the same lines each time:
Pither (in barely comprehensible Wanderin' Star croak): "Yuurrgh."
Dimwit (usually with Asian twang): "Huurrlloooooo Mrs Pither."
Pither: "You tryin' to be funny?"
Dimwit (unperturbed): "How are you today Mrs Pither."
Pither: "'Ow do I sound, clothears? I feel bloody awful."
Dimwit: "Good, I am glad to hear that.I wonder if you could spare me a moment. This is not a sales call."
Pither: "You're lying, intcha'?"
Dimwit: "Oh, thank you Mrs Pithers. Can I ask you if you have a mortgage?"
Pither: "No, course I don't. I'm independently wealthy and always pay cash for my houses. Now, let me crawl away and die. I suggest you do the same."
click.....brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
I have now decided not to answer the landline. If anyone important calls about anything other than my mortgage, gas supply, life assurance or to tell me that I have been chosen from literally thousands etc. they will leave a message I can pick up later, I assume.
This has just got to be down to my soon-to-be ex-wife. She just can't stop replying to bloody surveys, whether over the phone or when posed by those gits who insist on accosting you in the street, clipboard in hand.
I have to admit, however, that she was responsible for one priceless line after I decided to wind up one of these cold calling reptiles. He called to try to flog me employment protection and so, fed up with his breed, I arranged for him to call round - on a day when I knew there would be no-one at home. He rang again subsequently to say that he had got no reply at the front door and I apologised, explaining that my grandmother had been taken ill and I had rushed her to hospital (she died - in 1972!!!). We rearranged another appointment and once again he arrived to find no-one at home - my wife and I were away on holiday. His follow-up call duly came, I apologised once more, put forward some fatuous excuse and fixed up a third appointment at a time when I knew again that there would be no-one at home.
Clearly exasperated at his time being wasted on a third fruitless visit, the said reptile phoned once more to ask what had happened and STB EW, by chance, answered the phone. I overheard the conversation. This will sound as though it is made up but I swear it is true. The conversation went like this:
STB EW: "Oh dear, I am sorry about all this. Was it a man you spoke to?"
Reptile: "Yes."
STB EW: "Did he sound middle-aged?"
Reptile: "Yes."
STB EW: "Oh heavens, I suppose he said he was Mr Pither?"
Reptile: "Yes, he did, why?"
STB EW: "I can only apologise. That must have been Randolph. He's not allowed to answer the phone. He's very naughty."
I actually applauded when the phone went down. A classic. We never heard from the reptile again.
The trouble is, great tactics like that are time consuming and I really just can't be bothered anymore. So, cold calling salesmen and women can just ply their infuriating trade in Grantham from now on.