Author: Mosh

From last night

For those who don’t check the comments, the **** came home around midnight. At roughly 12:45am the stereo went *right* up again. By the time I was banging on his front door, it was off. His other half opened the door (he couldn’t be arsed getting out of the sofa) after coming downstairs in her dressing gown to get him to turn the stereo off.

She then had a go at me for reporting him for domestic violence.

You know, **** it. Next time I see or hear a crime being committed I’m going to turn round and walk off if it’s not going to affect me. I just don’t need some 23-stone skinhead beating my head to a pulp because the police collared him and said “see that guy over there? He just told us he saw you mug a little old lady. Oh, and here’s his address.”

Net result, I didn’t get to sleep will almost 2am. Cat woke me not long after 5:00 and I was so wound up I couldn’t get back to sleep again.

Today, the council rang me back and they are sending some details out about what I can do (whoopee), and I spoke to the letting agent for the property who are sending him a letter regarding the terms and conditions he signed (and is now in breach of).

The police will be getting a letter shortly, once I have an address I can write to. I think I know which station it is, but I want to double check.

Charity raffle

Every few months I get sent raffle tickets to sell for a few of the charities I donate to. The PDSA are one of them, and a fine cause they are too.

Obviously people who are more willing to donate are those who have a sympathy for the cause being supported. Thus, I have discovered a good way to get rid of the tickets quite quickly. You walk up to someone you know like animals and show them the tickets.

“PDSA tickets?”

“Well, I don’t know. It’s not quite pay day.”

“They’re only a quid each. And you can win £12,000.”

“Nah…”

“You like animals, yes? You’ve got a cat?”

“Oh, yes. I love animals.”

“Well buy five tickets or I’ll kill a hedgehog and post the corpse through your door.”

“Have you got change for a tenner?”

Works every time.

Hip hip hooray

Let’s start with something to pep us all up. John Tyndall is dead. OK, that might not mean a lot to some of you. Let me rephrase it. The racist piece of **** who formed the BNP, insisted the Holocaust never happened and who was due in court this coming Thursday on race hate charges has kicked the bucket.

1 down, 2524 more to go (in Bradford West based on the recent election results anyway). Rot in hell you pathetic, insecure piece of ****.

Not so good

I got home this evening to hear the sounds of Ibiza nightclub life in my living room. Right through the wall courtesy of the toerag next door. It was louder than it would have been with my own stereo turned on.

So I popped next door. Banged a few times. Door opens… eventually. He’s still in the living room, three of his mates answer. One of them looms at me. “What?”

“Turn it down. I’ve got work to do and I need an early night for an exam tomorrow.” (which I don’t, but hey)

“But it’s my birthday.”

“Big whoop. What do you want? A cake? Turn it down.”

“I don’t have to. The police won’t do anything. And anyway, you’re allowed one party night a year and you can have the stereo as loud as you want and they won’t do owt. So **** off. It’s my birthday, you know what birthdays are like.”

“Well that’s crap, and you know it. Turn it down. Now.”

“**** off, you ****.”

Back home, ring the police, get through to a nice chap at Bradford north who informs me that it’s the council’s job – it’s a civil matter so the police can’t prosecute. He gives me some numbers and asks if it’s a regular occurence.

“Semi-regular. It’s either his flipping stereo or he’s battering his girlfriend loud enough that I can hear it.”

“Domestic violence? Oh, we can certainly look into that.”

So I gave him the details. Oops. Just kind of slipped out.

Aaaaanyways. I left the house for a bit as I was about to consider trying to get the little **** to punch me so I could call the cops and get him done for assault. An hour later and my mobile went. It was a nice policewoman who informed me she was on desk duty due to being pregnant. She apologised for not getting someone out to see him, but they were slightly short-handed staffwise due to something I’d read about in the papers tomorrow but about which she could tell me no more.

Strange.

Well, she spoke to him (they must have looked the phone number up from the address – cool) and apparently he was all apologetic and sorry and it won’t happen again and… etc. Bollocks, basically. She also said they’d had a word with him about slapping his girlfriend about. He denied it. They got her contact details (as she wasn’t in) and spoke to her.

She denied it.

Apparently they “have had some loud rows recently as they’re stressed with the pregnancy and his working nightshifts but he’s never hit her.” Unfortunately, they have to go with what she says, which I do understand. Unless I hear them at it, call the police and they turn up to find her with a shiner (or she complains herself), their hands are tied.

Incidentally, I thought the boys in blue would be subtle about this. Erm… no.

I got home.

“Hey, what’s this about you telling the police my mate’s been doing violence on his mrs?”

For ****’s sake.

I denied everything. I told them not to accuse me of something of which they had no proof. “I’m not accusing you, I just asked why you did it.”

I really hope one of his birthday presents was a ******* picture dictionary. Stupid ****.

And of course the stereo was on full belt. So I called the police again who said they’d give him another call or try to get someone out. I don’t know if they did, but I had another go at them after that as it was about 325 miles (give or take) past a ******* joke by then.

Birthday boy: “why is it my problem if his stereo is pumping bass through your wall.”
Me: “It’s not, it’s his. But you keep opening your mouth to tell me it’s your birthday when I’ve already told you I don’t care.”
BB: “Well, ask him to turn it down and he will.”
Me: “I’m trying to, but you won’t shut the **** up for long enough for me to do it.”

It kind of degenerated from there.

Thankfully they all ****** off out about 10:30. After yelling at each other something involving my cat, removing heads and sucking the blood from the corpse.

Needless to say, folks, anything happens to KK in the next couple of days and his ******* corpse will be nailed to his front door and I’ll call the police and turn myself in.

I await their return sometime after kicking out. Again, needless to say if I get woken up at any point before my alarm goes off there will be ******* murder.

Sleep tight, one and all.

What a waste of money

I can’t believed thay actually funded a study to prove that praying for a sick person is pointless. What an utter waste of money. I could have told them it was a crock for half of whatever they spent. You may as well stick your thumb up your arse and sing Yankee Doodle for all the good it’ll do.

OK, fair do’s. Praying’s slightly more hygenic.

Where do you get a job like this?

I want a job writing reports. I mean, you pick any old random subject that’s so blindingly ******* obvious what the answer is… and then tell everyone that answer. And then they pay you.

Today’s “kick me in the bollocks and call me Shergar, I’d never have known” report is that the UK is under increased risk of terrorist attacks because of its involvement in the Iraq and Afghanistan mess and because we cuddle up to the US.

Well, **** me backwards through a hedge. I’d have to have been living in Saddam’s little hole in the ground for the last 10 years not to know that.

Next week: “honey comes from bees”, “circular wheels are more efficient than square ones” and “George Bush is a useless ****”.

Users… good grief

On the phone to a nice young lady in an office today trying to resolve a networking problem. I needed her to log out and back in again to force some changes I’d made to her login script.

Me: OK, can you log out of Windows and then back in?
Her: I’ve closed Word, and Insight. I’m not in any Windows.
Me: That’s fine, so you’re clear to log out.
Her: *pause*
Me: Just log out of Windows – like you do in the evening.
Her: Oh. Well. I’m not in any Windows any more. I closed Word.
Me: *gesticalutes wildly at phone and mouths “aaargh”*
Her: Shall I just restart the machine?
Me: Yes. That’ll have the same effect, just take a little longer.
Her: OK *click as she hits the power button*

Uuuurrrrggh.

Babette who sits opposite told me a classic quote from her mum. Her and her stepdad just got a laptop and her mum wanted to know what time the Internet opened each morning. “Mum… keep away from the laptop”.

Three main topics today. The first one’s for some advice.

What do you do…

Let’s take a hypothetical situation. You’re at home in your thin-walled house when you hear a horrendous noise like something’s just fallen off a wall. After a bit, you pin it down to noises coming from next door. Doors slam. Things get rattled. Voices get raised.

Amongst the many things you hear is the following conversation:

Female: “Don’t hit me! Don’t hit me when I’m pregnant!”
Male: “I don’t even want the ******* kid.”
*slap*
M: “Bitch! Don’t ******* slap me!”
*sound like someone planting their fist into a side of meat*
F: “I’m pregnant! Don’t ******* hit me when I’m pregnant!”
M: “You mean nothing to me! Get out of my house.”
F: “Get out of my way – I want to go upstairs”
M: “No. Get out of my house. It’s my house, I can stand where I want.”
F: “Just get out of my ******* face! Don’t hit me!”

etc etc.

And let’s just say this sprang from a situation where F refused to give M a “blowie” and he stormed off to get more beer without saying where he was going.

Utterly hypothetical, of course. Because I didn’t see a ******* thing.

So the question is… if someone were in the situation where they heard such noises, what can they do? Sensible suggestions only, please. I’ve already rattled through a “wish list” in my head.

Racism is soooo easy

I was nattering to a good friend last night and the conversation turned to recent events in London. She has decided that all “Paki’s” should be kicked out of the country because they’re potential bombers, and in fact should never have been allowed here in the first place. The people who are currently under suspicion of setting off the bombs “aren’t even British” as far as she’s concerned. Even though they were born here. “Not proper British”, apparently.

Her argument? Would she be French if he parents were on holiday in France when her mum gave birth? Erm… slight difference. These people have parents (possibly even grandparents) who moved here and settled down. They were born in the UK, and held British passports. They grew up in the UK. Schooled in the UK. Worked in the UK. Paid tax in the UK. I’d say they’re as British as me. If you’re going to nitpick, at the very least they’re as English as me. My folks are Welsh and Scottish.

I pointed out these are four people out of a Pakistani/British population numbering in the tens or hundreds of thousands. And she wants to deport all if them for the acts of four idiots? Yeesh. Why not jail every doctor in the country because Harold Shipman killed some old ladies? There’s about the same ratio of him to other doctors.

It is so easy to fall into the frame of mind that the BNP would be grinning about. This is what those terrorist ******* want. Separate everyone. Divide our societies. Make us suspicious of each other.

They are in the minority. They’re staining the names of many, many good people. I have no problem with Pakistanis, Indians, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists or any other bugger. I have a problem with people who are ******* – whether they’re Pakistani *******, Indian kids with an attitude, Muslims who drive their cars past schools too quickly, white guys who mug grannies, chavs of any race who beat up their girlfriends…

Scum are scum – what they look like and what faith they are (or aren’t) has absolutely **** all to do with it. Nobody is “guilty” of being the wrong colour.

And finally…

Well, they always use that on the news for the lighthearted story at the end. Well, this better put a smile on your chops. Anni‘s mom went into hospital recently for an op to get rid of a cancer. Today she went home… and the test results show they annihilated the whole sodding thing. No remnants. No spread. Clean bill of health.

Now all of you go to Anni’s page and give her a hug. Now. Go on. She really bloody needs them after the last couple of weeks.