"Yeah, I'm on the train...yeah...blah blah blah"

Mobile phones - they're not just for rent boys and drug dealers any more. Nowadays, people from all walks of life use them. Ignorant suit ponces. Pathetic spods who think that having the theme tune to Star Wars as their ring tone will make people think they're fascinatingly zany. Shit-thick bints who enjoy watching Friends, but don't actually have any. Snotty-nosed spoilt brats in playgrounds who are being groomed by their parents for an enriching career in Telemarketing .
And the technology is advancing at an alarming rate. Five years ago, if you wanted to demonstrate to people in the street just how much of a grip your boss had on your balls, or needed to bore the arse off an entire train carriage by telling your equally pathetic wife that, once again, you are on the train, just like you are every fucking day at that time, it was quite simply impossible. Nowadays, sad bastards on the cutting edge of pointless telecommunication can while away their husks of a life by destroying the English Language in an Orwellian manner, sending each other meaningless Prince-speak text messages.
But the greatest innovation has just begun, with the launch of Internet mobile telephony. For a mere Arm And A Leg, go-getting high flying twats with nothing better to spend their money on can receive a pathetically limited number of greedy corporate bastard websites with a vast palate of two colours, offering the kind of information that could be easily gleaned by looking at the newspaper of the person sitting next to you on the train, or by actually having a face-to-face conversation with another human being.
NISHLORD.COM's WAP (or whatever the fuck it's called this week) service is different. It actually gives mobile phone users the information they need - a constant reminder of what an annoying cunt they really are. Whenever the moment arises, a vital message informing you that no-one, absolutely no-one, is the slightest bit interested in what you have to say, ever, will flash up.  
Go on. Subscribe, and give me your money so I can spend it on records and toffees, you bastards.