Saddo saves the world

"God, you know some sad f******," says Bad Lindy, who has battered her way in to show me her pick of the year giblet texts, which she's thinking of turning into a calendar.

"I don't know them," I say.

"Then why are they writing to you? I mean, listen to this." Bending over the screen, with a faint sigh of regret that she's wasting a prime view of her derriere on such a meagre and ungrateful audience, she reads out my latest Freecycle messages:

"'Offered, backpack. Not clean, not new and not waterproof. Would suit slightly grubby indoor and gullible hiker.' And what about this one -
'Offered: Builder's buckets. All at least half full of dried in plaster or mortar but only one has a small hole. Also available, broken fax/answering machine. May be fixable if you understand the instructions which are in Japanese.'"

She looks at me. "These are people who seriously think that they're going to light up the life of some sad b****** by offering them a bucket you can't even throw up in? You tell me what sort of saddo is going to reply?"

I regain control of the keyboard and delete a couple of messages.

"Not you. Please tell me you didn't."

"It's supposed to be good for the environment," I say, sounding, even to my own ears, like the saddest saddo on the block.

"What, you're telling me that getting in your car and driving off to collect a load of rubbish you end up throwing out for good a week later is going to save the world?"

"So they say."

"If you're serious," says Bad Lindy, "the sooner we're all dead, the better." And pausing only to seize the computer, type, "Get a life, c***," and 'reply to all,' she and her giblet texts head off to brighten someone else's day.