Listen, people, the Dada and Beat poets had nothing on Google's visual voicemail. Like Gertrude Stein's ghost in the machine doing automatic writing, I propose this decoupage of unintelligible yet adorable ebarf, to wit:
Hi Susan, presentable shape again.
Dude are you. Yeah the could please all.
Can I speak to her as a hosting speak?
Take off like that dude issue, W W W dot now.
It is spillway just want to see if no a hold of you.
I think it's I remember what the anyway,
So if you got my message questions, so you're not.
Have a good news. Lovely blues.
Drink to that.
