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 Introducing Dial-Me-Again, the cell phone carrier for people who ask little of their life and less of their phone provider. Our service is like being marooned on an island and throwing a bottle with a message in the ocean and hoping the sharks don’t send a note back to you that says, “You are so totally screwed.”  
 What differentiates us from other carriers is our devotion to sketchy customer service, leaching off T-Mobile’s network, consistently performing below the expectations you thought couldn’t go any lower, and blah, blah, blah. You don’t care. All you can hear is CHEAP, SAVE MONEY, NO MORE BIG COMPANIES, CANCÚN VACATION, BIG BOAT, RETIRE EARLY, CHA-CHING, CHA-CHING, CHA-CHING.      
 And that’s why you’ll come crawling to us. That’s why you’ll deal with our byzantine billing practices, scream at our two-person tech support team who learned English from a Toshiba DVD player manual, and spend more hours figuring out your voicemail than calling people. The altar of thrift is littered with the corpses of people just like you. It sounds dark now but by the end of your contract, you’ll understand exactly what we mean.
 Often you may wonder how to get reception on your bastardized device. It’s simple. Go to the middle of Iowa, orientate yourself to the star Betelgeuse, gaze at your phone as if it decapitated your dog, mash the power button fifteen times in nine-second intervals, shove a pen into the charging port, and massage your phone’s side in a counter-clockwise motion. Apologize for any wrongdoings you may have committed and promise to do better in the future. Compliment your phone in ways that are authentic and heartfelt.  
 After this, your phone may demand a six-hour update, or it may not—but it probably will. Unfortunately, this will destroy your hope and optimism when the update fails within minutes of completion and then ridicules you for even trying, like what Congress did to Obama.
 After the update fails, your only option is to hold your phone over a glass of water and to shout profanity. Or you can drive to wherever the person you tried to call is and talk face-to-face. We like to think of reception issues as an invitation to a more personalized form of communication.
 However, in an emergency—say you’re trapped in a house with a serial killer or beating off bull sharks in the lower Zambezi or have to have pizza—our phones are guaranteed to work. They are equipped with a “borrow someone else’s phone” feature, which works with your nearest social contacts such as Mom, your son or daughter, a friend with an iPhone, the businessman who looks like Mr. Smith from the Matrix, the woman who failed to notice when “some perfume” became “enough perfume to fumigate a two-bedroom condo,” and the guy who could probably find you some crack. Their phones almost always work, and you don’t have to pay to use it. Sounds like a good situation to us.
 Or choose to use your data and pop on the internet to send an email to 911. Something to the effect of: Sharks developing increasingly complex tactics. Cannot bail water fast enough. They have already taken Jerry. Send help soon. With our data limit, your emergency email should go through, depending on multiple factors we won’t go into here. 
 Of course, data goes fast, so fast you’ll wonder if you had any to begin with. Should your data limit expire, we’ll break into your house and plaster your car with bumper stickers advertising our phone service and then drain your account to an offshore bank where it will be used to buy lots and lots of big guns for bad people. Really bad people. It’s all in the terms and conditions, which you threw away. HA HA HA. JUST TRY GETTING OUT OF OUR CONTRACT NOW.
 At almost all times, you’ll question why you won’t pay money for an established phone service, but then—hand to God—your phone will work, and you’ll have a pleasant conversation with your aunt, which almost never happens. It’s those moments that our company stands for, those moments and skimming as much money as we can from this company before it careens downhill like a college freshman at a kegger.
 For a limited time then, we ask you to start your slow descent into insanity. Choose Dial-Me-Again. Choose it now. Choose it before the logic center of your brain kicks in. Choose it forever​.

​Read about how to be a communist dictator here. Because everyone wants to be a dictator. 
Would you forget about your nephew in the hospital? Maybe? What the...? What kind of person are you?
At least bookmark The Squid Weekly. Why? Because it's important.
Apparently more important than your super sick nephew. 

Shove it into their hands and shout, “I LOVE YOU."
Cram it into their Facebook feed.
They need this.