I have a sticker on my mailbox at home. It’s very clear, it’s in very good condition.

And it says “No Junk Mail”.

That, to me, seems to be a very simple message. Nothing difficult about it. Nothing too challenging to comprehend, I would have thought.

Yet, despite that message’s inherent simplicity and clarity, those lowlife, greedy little real estate agents in Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs, seem to place themselves above their respect for the people whose hands they are reaching out to for sales, and ignoring that message.

I’ve had a couple of them tell me that their leaflets are not junk mail. Pardon me? That is not your call: I decide what is junk mail, and any and all marketing and advertising material, not personally addressed to me, falls within my definition of junk mail. Want to argue with me? Fine; I’ll remember your rusde and disrespectful attitude when I come to need the services of a reputable agent.

You will not be on the very short list!

I’ve even suffered the experience of one stupid estate agent sending me her unwelcome market material, and then rudely arguing with me that it was not junk mail. After speaking with her senior management, she relented … to a point. Sadly, she is a very slow learner, and clearly not a mental giant: having recieved my complaint that she had ignored my “No Junk Mail” sticker, she then delivered to me … her own personalised version of a “No junk Mail” sticker.

A couple of points to be made here: I already was in possession of the appropriate sticker. Were this idiot paying any attention at all, she would have noticed this – it was the point of my initial complaint, and thus it should have been immediately evident to her that sending me one of hers was not exactly a smart move.And especially sending me her personalised version, with her contact details and butt ugly photo of herself on it.

Of course the subtext was that I did not want any of her marketing materials at all: which part of that was not exactly clear to her? All of it, it would seem, because she also gave me her personally emblazoned post-it notes. A prime idiot of the lowest order.

Anbd so it transpired that, six months later, this poor excuse for a life form still fills my letter box with her crap. She blames the the people she hires to distribute this rubbish.

I don’t buy that: take responsibility for your actions, you little piece of brainless excrement. if your contractors fail to perform the job they’re contacted to do, don’t fucking pay them, you idiot. Maybe that will make them – and you – take notice that it’s high bloody time that you paid a little respect to the people in your prospective sales catchment area.

In the meantime, go to hell. You know my address, and you should take heed: I will not let you get away with this.