Sent from my iPhone whilst dieting, a cosmetic enterprise divulged herewith to vindicate this effete 9-point-font

Sent from my iPhone relieving myself in a client’s water closet, clad head-to-toe in hardwearing mustard coloured corduroy, while finetuning pianofortes along the Cotswold Way; pitched perfectly- thus, forgo superfluous middots my dear confrère

Sent from my iPhone amidst a senior moment, so with all due respect Missy- overlook any spelling mistakes & spare me from grammatical criticisms

Sent from my iPhone iTyped with iThumbs: correspondingly, I’m implying one’s recipients sanction brevity, & furthermore, absolve my random spelling gaffes, or irregular punctuation

Sent from my iPhone as one melancholic constituent of an illiberal, self-inflicted Kafkaesque Concentration Camp, wherein fellow inmates doth foster conformity, stasis, & drudgery: this lame text transposes apathetic listlessness

Sent from my iPhone whilst flogging schtrops inside a NW-London eruv: it’s not just some unwarranted clever Dick legal trick, conceived to avoid rabbinical rules

Sent from my iPhone: metabolically struggling to project winning performances that will increase quarterly sales volumes by 20% in accordance with an inflexible corporate strategy; hence, excuse one’s justified anxieties, spelling mistakes etc.

Sent from my iPhone binge drinking Dr Pepper (without any valid prescription or exemption from tooth decay), what’s the worst that can happen?

Sent from my iPhone scunnered by 5-decades-of-wage-slavery: forgive self-pity

Sent from my iPhone having been curtly advised to place personal feelings aside whilst learning for a fact, that I’m not receiving bonuses I’d quite reasonably imagined I deserved; now, apparently, I need to envision our trading team’s big objectives first & foremost- so prithee, friend, tolerate these narcissistic tears

Sent from my iPhone- currently enduring trouble & strife, shackled & chained to my missus, as she tirelessly seeks ever more inventively onerous opportunities to break hard rock’s together- shoot me!

Sent from my iPhone whilst navigating from wife to girlfriend (via a stopover with concubines), onto one’s transgender lover: have a heart cock, do excuse brevity &/or insinuated STDs

Sent from my iPhone undefended as I have my undershirt lifted in the infamous Cock Ring Nightclub; excuse double-Dutch spelling (gasp my arse, how exciting)!

Sent from my iPhone while I’m being digitally probed-cum-prodded royally by Prince Hisahito of Akishino (this imperial boy’s a rough little bugger); pardon me for inscrutable Japanese sexting

Sent from my iPhone perched painfully upon a spinning fickle-finger-of-fate; so rhetorically, excuse me all over the place why don’t you?

Sent from my iPhone inspired by Bruno Manser: get naked FFS, camouflage your face, start blow-piping lumberjacks (excuse brevity, bad spelling, & punctuation)

Sent from my iPhone seeking portals to deeper connections with the essential sphere, & sentience of our planet; feel my extenuating material shortcomings, seen?

Sent from my iPhone during black mass at an agrestic coven- until next time: merry-meet, merry-part, & merry-meet again fellow pagan xx

Sent from my iPhone endeavouring to neutralise negativity by way of palliative creative catharses e.g., ‘meaning’ in the form of poesy, etchings, a jolly song or jig.

Sent from my iPhone riding a crested warthog, bareback thru dense spires of foxgloves: if this fugly pig’s day isn’t enriched, excuse one’s casual animal cruelty

Sent from my iPhone running naked across our neighbourhood common, closely pursued by energetic police community support officers (ignore typos, & brevity)

Sent from my iPhone while wanking excuse typos, brevity, & spilt spunk stains

Sent from my iPhone as I’m dishonourably discharged from my internship with a local coastal Edelweiss Pirates Group, excuse brevity, spelling, &/or punctuation

Sent from my iPhone at home alone, listening to Carmina Burana on full blast; my leggy wife Carla’s literally gone berserk, incinerated one’s candid apologia, before running off, & leaving me: does this condone typos punctuation or disorientation?

Sent from my iPhone reflecting belatedly on my wastrelsy & unforgivably bestial behaviour, increasingly concerned that an attendant, unmitigated public shame, shall long outlive my private trials & tribulations

Sent from my iPhone immersed in fever dreams, presently nailed inside a coffin buried beneath a chalk cavern near West Wycombe alongside supple sources of terror of unknown character, & extent, with only 9% of phone battery remaining, plus perhaps another hour’s oxygen (I know I don’t have to explain myself to you, but I feel rather inclined to do so)- if I ever do dig myself out, I’ll respond fully tomorrow: but for now- thanks for keeping me au-courant with your debauches. Please excuse absurd typos, farce, tragedy et al

Evan Hay exists in Britain & rather than follow spurious leaders – over the years he’s intermittently found it therapeutic to write out various thoughts, feelings & ideas as short stories to be examined, considered, & interpreted by clinical practitioners who may be able to offer him professional psychological assistance.

You can find more of Evan’s work here on Ink Pantry.