Voicemail is a recorded and electronic system supplemental to the telephone, which allows individuals to communicate in the instance that they are unavailable to answer the telephone. Voicemail also has the capacity to automate, and to act as an electronic medium to list information and make transactions (to a limited extent). The latter of these functions is almost always dependent upon interactive messaging systems, in which dialing numbers create voice "commands" which the computer-based voicemail systems can then "respond" to. This has created its own small technological subculture of authentications, (password setting/protecting) networking and accessibility (phone numbers specifically dedicated to automated and interactive voicemail systems, most omnipresently with banks) and, of course, spam. Voicemail is an option on virtually every telephone medium and connection.

A more consistently reliable source for unambiguous facts whether or not you would like to admit it is telling me that Televoice International innovated the idea of voicemail and coined the term in 1980. I don't mind being the middle man.

A common example of a typical voicemail message:

"Oh, come on. You mean to tell me you've never seen somebody watch muted porn while listening to Disney soundtracks and unreasonably masturbating before? I bet even you've done it once or twice! Now where's my car? And where am I, as a matter of fact? I have no idea where the hell I am right now, but things seem horrendously awful and fucked up here that I'm forced to assume I'm in Utah. Or maybe Yemen. Either way, it's not hell because there's no way hell would be this fucked up! You bitch! What about our children? That we might have had. What about my darts throwing record? First place every Saturday night at the bar every saturday for 7 years! I don't know what fucking day it is but whatever it is I'm pretty goddamn sure that I won't be able to make it to the bar this Saturday! There are...fucking...Buzzards and Dreadful Crows everywhere, and it's goddamn sand and dry dead green shit that just decided to be green out of spite even if it makes its living by fucking DYING! I haven't seen any people yet but I'm absolutely sure this describes them too! But here's the bottom line, bitch! You signed the fucking prenup, so unless I get this call back from you in the next 15 minutes, I'm filing for divorce and I'm gonna be fucking screaming it at the next English-speaking person I see until I annoy them and frighten them into helping be get home so I can kick your balding skinny ass and get a divorce so I can kick you back out on the--"

"To review this message, press 4. To replay this message, press 5. To --"


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