Best complain letter ever (apparently)

Fabulous Lettering
Classy writing

I’ve done a load of complaints letters, most of the ones from the last few years you can see on this blog. The one on the FHM web site I found is apparently the best one Richard Branson has ever received. It’s pretty good, but I still think my original one to Bradford Council when I was complaining about the council tax was better.

A shame it was so long ago I don’t have a record of it – but it did make the man behind the glass counter laugh out loud and we were told we didn’t owe any tax after all. After 3 months, one missed court appearance (which we’d been told had been cancelled… but wasn’t) and various legal threats.

Anyway: Richard Branson’s favourite complaint letter.

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Today’s random fact

Balance à tabac
Pounds?

One of those daft thoughts kicking around in my head ended up in a little bit of internet research this afternoon. Why do we (the Brits) abbreviate “pound” weights to “lb”?

It turns out, it’s from the Latin word libra, meaning “scales”. Which makes sense. It seems the Romans also used a unit of weight similar to our pound which they also called a libra. The Latin for “weight” is pondus, hence our word “pound”.

Told you it was random.

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Apologies and updates

LCCT at kuala lumpur airport
That's me, 3rd from the left

I’ve noticed the blog has turned into pretty much a review-fest over the last few weeks (when I’ve posted), but hopefully I’ll change this shortly. With being “stuck” in Myanmar, I’ve not been able to update so often and my brain-drainings haven’t made their way as far as a keyboard.

However, I’m sat in Kuala Lumpur LCCT (the budget terminal, basically) awaiting a flight to Oz. Hopefully while I’m there I’ll have a little spare time to whack some crap up on here as well as keep the Travel Blog updated.

Do keep the comments coming. Regulars will know I always do my best to reply! Even if you’re talking shit

Oh, and as an aside I do with the guy opposite me eating his McD‘s would do it with his fucking mouth shut. Fuck, what do Asian mothers teach their children? None of the children I worked with at Blue Dragon chewed with their mouths open. Yuck.

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Rambo 4

Rambo 4
Rambo 4

Rambo 4 is written and directed by Stallone, who’s wringing the last drops of headband sweat out of the second of his major franchises. After the sob story that was Rocky Balboa, he’s followed it with the imaginatively-named John Rambo. Rambo’s back and he’s still not a fan of being pushed. Not by inbred sheriffs, not by the Commies, and this time not by Burmese drug-manufacturing, Christian-kidnapping, young boy-buggering dictators.

The plot’s thinner and more see-through than a separated sheet of toilet paper that’s been dipped in water. Stallone’s performance is really pushing “special needs” and his diction’s just gone completely. I’m surprised it doesn’t include subtitles.

However, the action sequences (about half the film’s length) are about the goriest battle scenes I’ve seen since Saving Private Ryan. Obviously, as this film’s not “educational” or “historic” it gets a higher rating. And a jail term of 5 years for watching it, if you’re a citizen of Myanmar. I mean, it’s a bad film but it’s hardly criminal.

The stereotypes are all there. Thai people who play with snakes. Nice village people who run around and die. Bad soldiers who kill people for shits and giggles. An evil warlord who never fires a shot, but wears sunglasses and smokes a cigarette as he watches his minions do all the work for him.

Oh, and just for good measure we have a scene which implies he shags teenage boys up the bumhole. In case he’s not evil enough for committing genocide.

The climactic scene where Rambo kills him is about the cheesiest thing I’ve seen on a video screen. Seriously, it could have been filmed in Glorious Gorgonzola-vision. Wallace and Gromit would be drooling over it. It’s so gut-wrenchingly awful that it’s as if I’d stepped through a dimensional warp and I was watching a parody of the self-same film I was currently viewing. In fact, it’s so bad that Weird Al’s Rambo piss-take scene from UHF is completely bland in comparison.

But somehow, I don’t know how, I watched the whole thing. Time passed. I stayed awake (it was late and I was tired) and I got to the end thinking “I could watch that again” though preferably with Dolby Surround and a bigger screen than my laptop. It’s just so bad it’s in the “few beers and some crisps” pile for another time.

Although what, I think, edged it was watching it in Myanmar. Where it’s banned. And yet everyone I’ve talked to has seen it.

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