"I swear that big grumpy box is eyeing me up. It wants to eat me. Why am I attractive to cold cardboard carton creatures? Perhaps it's seeking revenge for my recycling or refuse efforts, I've crushed a few of it's mates I suppose, burned others. Either that or it wants to package me up, smother me in Prime labels and bar codes and send me of to an address in Glasgow instead of the lawnmower and plant food that the family there are expecting. Like the Velvet Underground's "Gift". All in all I'm uneasy, agitated and bordering on total paranoia. Amazon, I quit!"
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