Mister Murphy,
under your reign I have endured day after day of rain filled washing, run after run of just missed buses, unknown amounts of just missed phonecalls, and subsequent trips and downright humiliations as the phone is silenced the moment my shadow touches it.
I have acknowledged you and given you your due, I have laughed it all off and never once complained.
Even when my trip to Glastonbury was scuppered by the slip of a typists finger, and i’ll never get that chance again, I was on the guest list for crying out loud!, I laughed it off and didn’t give it another thought. Your latest tricks however have not been so laughable but I haven’t cursed you or even lost my cool. Not even when the bible flew off the top of the fridge and bonked me on the head.
I’m glad you have found things so funny but I have had enough now.
I wish to complain now, you have hidden my coffee and I can’t do a thing without it. I have given you many years of good service and I think your treatment of me is absolutely despicable.
Please return the coffee, before I make a law of my own!
Regards
Where’s my coffee?