I hate phones. I want to smash all of the world’s phones and make a delightful phone soup out of them. Then I’d feed it to assorted people who wont stop calling me, and when they’d say, “What is this delightful soup made out of?” I would reply, “PHONES.”
And then I’d run away before they could think of a response.
Then I would hire someone to run messages back and forth to whoever I’d like to talk to.
Or maybe I’d just be a hermit.