Embarq, the newish provider of our cable/phone/internet service, sucks the twisted dried-up nipple of a menopausal, disease-infested, three legged, halitosis-laden, flea-ridden, bile-spewing nanny goat.
Embarq, the provider of our vital services, is the embodiment of the sickening essence of frustration that is distilled from many months' worth of irritation into a thick sludge of homicidal rage, oily with impotent anger, festering with the boils of customer-service-induced sweating fits, greasy and hot and a nasty shade of puce that can only result from liberal application of vast infusions of practiced condescension by its clueless employees.
Embarq - you are a limp-wristed dictator, holding our services in your meaty pale palms as you laugh with derision through your wobbling lips at our repeated questions on our bills. You don't care about fairness, for you are the king, the dictator, the monogarch, our only option, and so we must suffer you or perish, withering, in the desert that is technology service provision our here in Tarnation. Oh, we are on the fringes of your malevolent rule, that is certain, and we pray for the day the Time Warner Cable rides in on the massively endowed white steed of rescue and we can shitcan your satellite dish and shitty channel selection and trigger-finger billing department and impotent counter help at the local "store."
Embarq - you fill me with rage, because today I paid you an extra godawful amount of money just to shut you the hell up about our nonexistent late fees and threats of yet another unjustified cutoff. I hope you're happy as a laughingstock of a lie-soaked hyenaspawn feeble-minded despot can be. That money is coated with a liberal application of my acrid ire, and I pray that you CHOKE on it.