The weekend… almost… there…

A thrill a minute

Today I have mostly been copying files from one server to another over a ropey connection. Who needs TV when you have the “little blue bar”? GASP as it moves one more pixel to the right after 5 minutes, HOLD YOUR BREATH as it seems to have stopped, GROAN as the connection drops and you’re back to square one.

It’s almost, but not quite, on a par with watching your washing go round in the machine. It just lacks that “is it just the light, or have I put a red sock in with the white wash?” thrill.


It really makes you realise why we’re all obese when you start looking into things. I spend about 30 mins on an exercise bike over lunch. I have just noticed that the calories I burn off are about the same as those in the 200g low-fat yoghurt I just ate. To burn off all the crap I eat, I’d need to stay in the gym from 8:00 to 4:30, and go to work over lunchtime.

What a fucking surprise

After finally getting the PO to promise to redeliver that package today… no post. At all. Sarah sat in until midday, went out to the shops, came back and nothing.

As I need the contents of the package before next Tuesday at the absolute latest, and I’m away for the weekend, this basically means I have to get up at 6:45 tomorrow to drive into the middle of Bradford and shout at some useless cunt until they cry.

I’d write a letter of complaint, but I’d probably get the same form letter back that I received last time. Assuming my complaint letter actually gets delivered.

The fucking useless fucking fuckers. I really can’t get over in words how PISSED OFF I am right now.

If I turn green and start shouting *HULK SMASH*, please don’t get in my way and start wanking off about copyright infringement. I’ll rip you limb from limb and feed you to the nearest postman.

How fucking pointless?!

An 11 year old has been banned from driving for a year… despite not legally being allowed to drive anyway. I mean, that’s like banning a 5 year-old from brothels for a year. Or saying that George W Bush isn’t allowed to sit MENSA exams. It’s more pointless than a box of snapped pencils.

To make it worse, the court “imposed three penalty points for driving without a licence and six penalty points for driving without insurance”. Now, this is a little paradoxical. He’s been given penalty points for not having a license. These penalty points go onto his license. Which he doesn’t have. Which is why he’s getting points on it. More paradoxes than 10 series of Dr Who.

Can’t we just break his legs so he can’t reach the pedals?

Mail and silly women

Royal Mail in “are shit” (again) shocker

OK, on the 23rd, someone attempted to deliver a package. Now, several points. The little card says they tried to do this at 10:30. This is shit, as Sarah was in then. Secondly, they’ve ticket the box that says “too big for your letterbox”. This is also shit, as I know what I’m waiting for. It’ll be in three small Jiffy bags, each of which will fit easily through the door.

What we’re dealing with here is a postperson who can’t tell the time and hasn’t figured out how those awkward rubber bands that hold things together work.

So I call the number on the card to arrange redelivery as Sarah’s going to be in one day this week. It rings… and I get the standard BT message that “your call cannot be taken at this time”. Bugger. So I ring back, and it’s engaged.

A-ha! Someone’s on the phone! So I keep hitting redial until it rings again. And rings. And rings. And BT message.

So I’ve left a voicemail. It’s currently 8:30am and the sorting office is open until midday (hence why I can’t collect the packages from them but we’ve been through this ages ago if you go digging through the archives). What are the odds I’ll actually get a call back before they shut? And, more to the point, even if they do who reckons they’ll actually redeliver on the day I ask them to? Because, funnily enough, I have no fucking faith in them at all.

I’ve also just noticed the little tagline on the note from them: “with us it’s personalTM“. Well, that half-sounds rather Mafia-esque and scary. And half-sounds like a laughable lie given I’m getting a generic BT answering service…

It must be great running a monopoly. You can be as utterly shite-awful as you want with no worries or repurcussions.

Update: I kept trying to ring them and finally got through at 11:53. Seven minutes before they close for the day. I’ve asked to have the package redelivered on Thursday. I fully expect to have a little card through the door tomorrow saying they couldn’t deliver it.

Silly girl

Just swapped a few texts with Louise. She’s heading to London for a couple of days (first class on the train, natch) and some guy was chatting her up. Or in her words, “I’m trying to read my book and this guy won’t stop talking to me”. So he wasn’t exactly off to a flying start.

Then it was, “Now the sob story about his breakup with his girlfriend. Which means he doesn’t like blondes, prefers brunette. Surprise!”

It got better, “I told him I’m a nurse. Now he’s going on about all his little sports injuries. He says he has a big scar on his lower back and he’ll show me it if I go into the toilet with him!”


As they neared London, “He’s gearing up to ask me out. I can tell.”

Finally, “Bingo – he’s asked if I want to have dinner at his posh hotel tonight. I told him I didn’t think my boyfriend would be too happy. He looks crushed! Aw, bless!” Two hours of his time wasted (well, he wouldn’t shut up despite her hints) only to get blown out of the water. And yet she’s still sympathetic about it. You wonder why she’s such a good nurse?

The thing is, this makes no fewer than four people who’ve asked her out in the last three weeks. The others were a patient’s relative and two new doctors. Plus all the retards groping her in a nightclub recently.

And yet… she chose me.

Silly moo. Joke’s on her, then!

Out of date news. Olds, then.


OK, y’all. Now I’ve finished my coursework (woo) and have a little bit more spare time, here’s a bit of a catch up on what’s going on in my life.

I’m still incredibly busy. I have a new housemate (Sarah) who I’ve known a couple of years. She used to share with a couple who started to split up and things got messy so she moved out. The place she got of her own didn’t work out, so she needed somewhere in the interim and knew I had a spare room so… She’s a really nice lass, but not as “blonde” as Kim so I doubt there’ll be as many funny stories to tell!

She brought a lickle kitten called Ed with her when she moved in. KK isn’t massively keen on this, but has learned to deal with it remarkably quickly. My only major issue is that Ed’s still doing the “litter tray first, ask to go out second” order of business and as a result my bathroom smells of stale cat piss. This is improving, but will take time.

The other major news, and main reason for lack of spare time recently, is that I’m seeing someone new (well, if 2 months still counts as “new”) and she lives in Newcastle. As a result, I’ve been up and down there every weekend, plus we went on holiday to Scotland a few weeks ago.

She’s called Louise, she’s a nurse (yes, she has the uniform; no, she won’t wear it “outside of work”) and she’s bloody wonderful, not that I’m biased in the slightest.

The down side to this is that as of October 9th, she’s going abroad for 18 months. So I am going to go from having no free time due to visiting her, to having no free time due to excessive masturbation. And from working spare time and extra hours to save up and go to New Zealand next year to visit her. Twice.

At least it gets me off my arse to go and have a holiday (or two) next year. This means I also get the chance to visit Belinda and Elaine, who live in Brisbane and who I’ve not seen in years. Unfortunately, I’ve already had the time off work confirmed (it had to go via the Board as I’m taking more than 10 days for obvious reasons) and one of my mates has arranged his wedding for the first weekend I’m away. I can’t change the dates without waiting 3 months for the next board meeting… Arse.

Shitty fucking medical staff

My little cousin (she’s just gone 4) has to have an operation next month to sure a bone problem in her ankle. My aunt noticed it quite some time ago, but every paediatrician, doctor and health worker she mentioned it to checked it out and said “na – nothing wrong with that”. Until recently when a new neighbour (a doctor herself) spotted it in passing and asked why they’d not had something done about it.

Now, this one little incident seems like a bit of bad fortune on the part of the umpteen useless bastards who were pointed towards the problem. I’d now like to bring into question the abilities (or lack thereof) of the inept, useless bunch of utter cunts who didn’t spot another problem she had when she wasn’t even a year old. Her hip wasn’t developed properly so she had no control over one of her legs. Again, my aunt noticed this – Louise (same name as my g/f) would kick one leg while she was having her nappy changed, but the other would just lie there.

Again, this was pointed out to the GP. Who waved it away. Then a paediatrician. Who fobbed it off. And another paediatrician. Who said it was nothing and that my aunt was just being silly. Until one of the nurses my aunt knew spotted it and had it sorted (result – child in bandagy thing for about 6 months, holding the joint together). And my aunt was asked why they hadn’t had this dealt with sooner as it would have been easier and less distressing for the little kiddy.

Needless to say, aunty went ballistic.

How the fuck do these people have jobs? At best, they’re unobservant. At worst, they’re criminally negligent. Were it my kid, I’d have sued them for malpractise, though is this possible when they haven’t done anything – even though that’s the problem? While I confess that I’m going to feel worse as this is my little cousin I’m on about, but what about all the other kids who go to see them? Louise lucked out, partly due to my aunt’s persistence with other people and partly out of luck. What else have they missed, even when it’s staring them in the face? How the hell can these people be allowed to carry on working, especially with children?

Am I over the top here?


Now for the hard part

As of 3:03 this morning I have no more coursework to do. That’s when I submitted my last assignment.

OK, I resubmitted it at 10:00 after a work colleague recommended re-doing the conclusion, but it’s in and done. No more coursework. This is going to be weird.

The worst part now begins. Waiting several months for the mark to come back, and I have no idea when that will be. I just need 40% and i was lucky with my project to get that exact mark. Fingers crossed I’m as lucky this time round, too!

Off to Newcastle for the weekend to get very drunk indeed. Which won’t be hard tonight as I’ve had less than four hours’ sleep. Mind, having two fillings at the dentist’s ought to wake me up. Assuming I don’t just not off on that big, comfy seat.

As I type this it’s just gone midday (bye-bye coursework deadline), and I’m finishing at 2:00 to get to the dentist. I have two tasks on my “to do list” and both require input from other people. I will put money on the fact that I will get neither set of input before 1:30, therefore making it impossible to do the jobs I have to do before I leave.

Just a typical Friday.

Bizarre pricing

I was just checking the Royal Mail’s airmail prices page and noted a couple of weird things. First off, I thought it was meant to be cheaper to send printed papers than other items in the post. It seems this is the case… but only within Europe. Send to anywhere else in the world and paper costs more to send than the equivalent weight of blancmange or whatever. So I’m guessing you just lie about what’s inside.

Even more mind boggling is that it costs more to send a letter than the equivalent weight of printed material or a small packet. So if you’re writing a very large letter… put it in a box.