Tag Archives: idiots

Thick and stupid people, uncultured people and the average joe…

10 May

No imagination

How I long to tell 90% of the people I unhappily co-exist with that their presence in my world does nothing but annoy me, and little but bore me poop’less.

Talking behind my back

Just recently while in conversation with a current work colleague who had enjoyed an evening in the company of another truly thick and dimensionless ex work colleague of mine the ‘new’ work colleague proffered an opinion based on information gleaned while drinking cheap beer in a local ‘Social Club’ (for that replace with ‘people with nothing on their minds but where to find the cheapest pint in town Club’) that there was … and I quote ‘no way I could have had enough time to do all the things I ‘claim’ to have done in my life.

What do you do all day?

I have always felt that I have done very little of worth with the time I have spent thus far on our planet; though I have written for and led as the frontman a well received rock band, collected music to the point of being invited to lecture a University course on popular music, danced in one of England’s greatest revival Morris Dancing sides, have got a degree in fine art, had countless jobs of varying descriptions, managed to breed and teach myself how to design websites virtually at the same time. I have toured the UK on one occasion with another band that was signed to top record labels and appeared at Glastonbury a number of times, that Paul McCartney championed.

I had the joy to grow up in an North American city and have met some famous musicians related to the music from that city. I have organised and run a three-day ‘Hippie’ festival. I have suggested songs for inclusion in popular films. I have a friend who won an Oscar only a couple of years ago. My wife worked on some of the top Soaps and long running Dramas in the UK and continues to keep in contact with many of those involved…. the list of incursions into ‘doing stuff’ and ‘being mildly interesting’ goes on.

The thing is…. why does this piss me off so heartily?

They’re thick, dumb, plain, boring and capable of little else but the imagination it takes to watch the Television every night, so why does it piss me off to be so judged by one (or two) of their ilk.

Because…  it takes someone as truly ignorant as they to have the balls and the confidence to make such a statement; that they are so self secure in their knowledge in the world and the truth that it holds (for them) that they can form opinions such as these and spout them out as truths makes me bloody angry.

Frightened

And what really gets to me is how scared it makes me feel, when I stop to think that it is they that are the majority, the average, the common man and the inheritors of this world’s future!

Ignorance is bliss

Ignorance must truly be bliss, because having the intelligence to know what a bunch of assholes 90% of those I have the misfortune to rub up against in my daily travails are is something even I might trade with ‘mildly entertaining’ for ‘ossifyingly boring and stunningly ignorant’, just in order that I might go through life believing that I am not surrounded by twats. An option to be taken as infinitely preferable should you wish to remain un-irritated by their presence in your life.

God I despair.

TNT – incompetence bomb explodes in my face

12 Dec

A friend wrote to me today, in frustration regarding his experiences of dealing with TNT a UK courier company, both generally and recently during the light frosting of snow that England received:

I run the parts department of the local depot of a large Swedish truck manufacturer. We rely on an overnight delivery service to get urgent parts to keep the wheels of industry turning. TNT provides this service. Or rather doesn’t bother their arse to provide this service…

Twats in the snow

Two Thursdays ago we had some inclement weather, it snowed a bit. Ok it was a bit heavy, it took me 15 minuets longer than usual to drive the 16 miles to work, mainly due to the fucking incompetent twats who had no business getting their cars off the drive in conditions that they did not have the skills to drive in.

TNT are contracted and paid rather well to deliver our parts overnight from our UK warehouse in Milton Keynes to all local depots by 9am 6 days a week. Actually we pay for a before 8am service but incredibly the incompetent fucks can’t print a before 8 sticker!!!!! (Worse still OUR head office let them do this).

After 8s

It is rare that we ever get what should be, a before nine service, but we are used to this and take it in our stride. I usually call the nearest TNT branch, 25 miles away by speedy dual carriageway at around 9:15 to ask where our deliveries are. The litany of excuses is, as always, unbelievable.

No Chance Mate – the oft heard call of the ‘common lesser acne spotted jobsworth’.

Any ho on this particular Thursday when yet again they hadn’t delivered, in a kind of snow laden Blitz spirit, I gave them the benefit of my considerable doubt and waited till 10:30 to call and ask politely if we would be getting a delivery. “No chance mate” came the response from the customer unfocused grunt on the other end of the phone.
As it happened on this particular Thursday it wasn’t too big a deal to not get our parts as none of our customers came in that day and out of 15 staff only myself and four others made it in. Some of them driving past areas were those that “couldn’t” make it in lived! But that’s a whole other rant….

Get yer fucking finger out TNT

On the Friday the weather conditions had improved a bit but TNTs attitude had not…”No mate we can’t even get out of the yard”. So one of our guys got into a perfectly ordinary van and drove to the local TNT depot, collected our parts and returned without any issues.

Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be (Mamas and the Papas)

By Monday morning weekend rainstorms had removed all trace of the snow completely…

Monday,

Saturday’s deliveries arrived… hooray.

Tuesday

Friday’s deliveries arrived… What the fuck! Where are Monday’s orders??? I decided to cut out the lazy wankers at the local branch and went straight to our national account manager at TNT. An hour or so too-ing and fro-ing on the phone and he was “going to get it sorted”… Useless fuck couldn’t sort a deck of cards with an instruction manual…

Wednesday

Tuesday’s overnight orders arrive… still no sign of Monday’s… oh and a delivery for another of our branches arrives with us! We can tell it is for them because there are two fucking labels on it saying so…back on the phone to our account “manager” This is getting boring.

Thursday

Mondays deliveries finally arrive… hoo fucking ray. Ahhhhh… but where the fuck are Wednesday’s overnight deliveries?? I’ve got Mr Useless Fucker’s number on speed dial now. This conversation makes my week… Apparently according to this guy who runs a multi million pound national contract and probably gets paid three times my salary –  ‘it was very snowy in Scotland and the north of England which is why their branch in Surrey didn’t function’. I asked him to clarify this given that there had been no snow on the ground since the weekend and the outside temperature was currently 8°C. Needless to say his answer didn’t satisfy me.

Friday

We get three separate deliveries from TNT everything that is outstanding arrives…almost……..  just two items from one of the new consignments are missing, which, as I have painfully learned is fucking outstanding from such incompetents.

Don’t Phone Me I’ll Phone You

21 Oct

Here to ask the question, why should we have to suffer cold calls using our own phone lines?

Telecoms, the Mickey Mouse Operators!

Why the hell should you and I be expected to run to the phone every 5 minutes in order that some desk hugging word gargling call centre operative can try to sell us funeral cover, windows, cheap mobile phone contracts, gas, electricity and a whole host of other products and services. And why do we say politely ‘no thank you’ and put the phone down for the umpteenth time having had our time wasted by these bastards, without getting angry enough to tell them to ‘Fuck Off and Die’?

They rely on our good nature

I’ll tell you why, yet again we, the general average approximate public are more polite than they, the not too well-defined, out of focus but they’re out there everywhere ‘inconsiderate bastards’, (remember the owners of shitting dogs topic / see below?) and for some reason we refrain from telling them to go get a pineapple and shove it up their salesman’s portfolio alongside the tonne of bullshit already residing in their lower bowells.

And we pay for the privilege of being hassled!

And here’s the biggy, we pay the line rental on the very thing that they utilise in order that they may invade our homes with their sales pitch. It’s like we’ve bought a bucket, fixed it to the front door, someone unrelated to us (the buckets true owner) has written ‘TOILET – use Freely’ above it and now everyone is shitting in it.

AND we are asked to continue paying for providing this service that is nothing but an inconvenience to us.

Ring Ring

When Alexander Grahame Bell invented the phone, I’m sure he did it for our convenience and not for the convenience of companies who want to sell to us and at the same time annoy the crap out of us, and terrify old ladies, getting decrepit old folks out of their chairs to answer the phone to someone in Bombay (sorry Mumbai) who wants to sell them a load of old shite they don’t require in an accent that sounds like an alien from Venus with a mouthful of an whole bar of Cadburys Dairy Milk about to go chinward..

X Directory – Do Telecoms pay us when they should?

If someone suggests you go X Directory in order that you avoid this situation, tell them that’s not the point, and it doesn’t guarantee avoidance of the situation, unscrupulous companies will still phone you once they have your details and will pass them around to each other for a fee….. the real point is that these companies pay the Telecoms providers for the opportunity to sell to us, often at greatly discounted rates to them for the large amounts of calls they make; and yet do the Telecoms companies pay us anything for the inconvenience?

Pay Me No Ring Me

Do they give us a reduced bill because the line rental we pay fully for is being utilised for this nefarious purpose. No they do not. And why not? Without our compliance in this dumbass game they wouldn’t have a service to sell. It is we the public that create this opportunity and the Telecoms companies and Sales companies that exploit it.

And we still politely say ‘No Thank You’ every time one of them rings.

What fools we are.


However it’s really easy to get rid of cold callers, my advice is – shout like a madman down the phone line calling them something truly obscene and put the phone down, works like a treat, until the next one.

Trying to apply for a Royal Post Office Job

19 Oct

Stupid Shit

I have been engaged in applying for a job delivering letters and parcels for the Royal Post Office here in the UK, the online process had taken me about 2 hours when I got to a section where I HAVE to take two tests within 48 hours before they will consider my application, I tried, they didn’t work, due almost definitely to lack of forward design in browser compatibility, I tried the latest versions of the three most popular browsers and nothing…Nada, fuck all but the subsequent baldness resultant of pulling all my remaining hair out.

Unemployed and looking for work, any work, even this!

The only thing making this service the ‘ROYAL’ Post Office is that it appears to have skill at high quality ROYAL fuck up creation, a skill of course for which the British are renowned, if not worldwide, then definitely within the confines of its own shores!

I HATE this sort of time-wasting shit, I just want to apply for a job and only need to talk to someone with half a fucking brain! It’d be way cheaper too if they considered employing someone to answer the phone instead of developing this sort of shitty online third-party software. Particularly if they paid them a similar wage to the one they propose giving me as a Postman. Dumbass shits.

Here’s the email I just sent them:

Dear Sirs,
Your online test process does not work and I cannot take the online test for sorting, having taken a good deal of time to apply and fill in the application form this is of the utmost frustration.
I am worried that my application will not be looked upon favourably (or at all) because of this situation. I am currently trying to apply for a position of casual postman at Blah Blah Blah in Blah Blah Town.
To begin with your test did NOT support a browser and version that it says it supports, and then when I changed to an alternative browser and it was supported and seemed to work while using the practice test it then refused to work when I came to do the actual test.
I really think you should let your service provider know this and get them to act quickly, it is of incredible frustration to have spent as long as I have applying only to have this happen, I have worked as a web designer and I know what I’m talking about.
Please please alert those that need to know that I would like to take the test, but having now tried three browsers all with up to date versions I am left unable to do so.
In your application form process you ask a question similar to this one ‘If you noted areas where improvements could be made, would you:
A – Keep quiet about them?
B – Write them on a pice of old paper and eat it? or
C – Tell your colleagues about it so efficiency could be improved?
I would answer C and so I’m telling you, politely, that your online application process, service and tests need improving.
In the meantime perhaps you could help me by telling someone at your end that I’m trying desperately to apply for this job?
Yours Sincerely,

ME

Further crappy service No1

It’s worth mentioning that I did get a reply to my email the following day, with…. urmmm, absolutely nothing in it, which was helpful! This now leaves less than 24 hours for them to sort out the problem and for me to take the test. Assholes.

Further crappy service No2

So the following morning hours before the deadline they finally send me an email which again tells me it’s down to me and not their online software… TWATS; the only thing of any use that they say is, ‘Try A Friends Computer’ to see if that works. I mean how low-fi is that for technical advice!!!

Anyway, so I do and so I finally finish a 3-4hour marathon of applying for a job that pays just over minimum wage for walking around in all weathers… I’m wondering who’s the biggest idiot Royal Mail or Me..?

Me quite obviously!

Because that wasn’t the end of the story.

I attended the job interview having successfully negotiated the application assault course (I’m determined that way) only to discover that the job was for 12 week short term contracts with NO guaranteed hours within that contract. They hadn’t been clear in their online job description.

The ‘Job’ (and I use that term as loosely as I can) basically amounted to – ‘we may call you to come in to work at anytime we please, maybe for an hour every three months, or maybe for 12 hours a day for three months, or maybe not at all, we just don’t know yet, we’ll have to wait and see, but you will be tied into this contract for at least 12 weeks.’

Are you guys fucking with me?!

I proffered the opinion that they weren’t offering me a whole hell of a lot for my effort (to date) and the loyalty they would then require within the 12 week contract and though my interviewer was pleasant enough I stated in as polite a way as possible that this whole situation was a fuckery beyond belief and left.

Finding work in 2010 is like being shit on, not pleasant (in case you were wondering)

When the government tells you that there are jobs out there to be had, they’re not lying, but when that job amounts to fuck all of fuck all for fuck all money, then pretty much, they are. The mealy mouthed sons of bitches. I don’t mind working, I like it in fact, but I’m not about to let some nob end of a concommoglobocorperation shag me in the arse as well as pay me minimum wage.

Employers Market

See as soon as the wheels of business that are turning are the buyers’ in the market they’ll shag the fuck out of you and expect you to smile about it. Bring on the revolution, that’s what I say.

Townies Trophy Mums 4x4s Red Moleskin Trousers

13 Oct

I’ve lived in the South of England for 35 years and in the last couple of decades an invasion of ‘Townies’ has led to countless off-road moments on the back lanes around my own little corner of England’s ‘Green and now Unpleasant Land’.

This unpleasantness has been largely due to the increased prevalence of 4×4 Land Rover, Porsche, Audi and Mercedes’ drivers of the female gender taking one child to school in a vehicle large enough to conquer Eastern Europe in.

These are the same middle class turds who give lip service to environmentalism by having solar heating and recycling their dead bottles of Chablis, but nevertheless drive one small child around in a vehicle that has a bigger carbon footprint than Mauritania.

This problem is not strictly gender specific, but unfortunately for those of us aware of our misogynistic tendencies, it does tend rather to be Women who seem to have poorer spatial awareness and too many times I have stared at a trophy wife’s good looks as she has sailed past me oblivious to the space she is taking up on the road. Again and again I’ve been forced into the hedge like the country bumpkin these haughty shits no doubt consider me to be.

These are the same haughty shits who have upped the housing prices (to the point where I can’t afford to do anything but to throw rental money down the sink) by moving or having a holiday home here in the first place; and they’re forcing me off the road, the property ladder and out of MY countryside. I feel trodden all over.

To the Townie I say:

On the weekends when you’re not running me off the road, you’re turning up at the now über expensive Gastro Pub that was once just simply my local and talking loudly about Noah’s fucking Montessori education and Arabella’s Summer study break in Switzerland.

You take over the whole once idyllic pub beer garden with your twat’ish self-righteous views that no one but you and the BNP are interested in and with your loud super confident plum filled gob you dominate, the beer garden, the road, and the property market. And while you’re doing this I have to take out a loan for a pint of Guinness just because you lot moved into the area and the pub thought it would take the piss out of you by charging £14.50 for Burger and Chips.

 

Fill with one or two twats

 

And finally, Men; when you’ve got home from your job in the City and you’ve popped out to the local shop, the shop that once sold essentials but has now gone all ‘Deli’ with it’s Wholemeal Rye and Kibbled Wheat with Gravalax of Salmon sandwich price tags, why do you wear those fucking daft Red Moleskin Trousers, what is that all about?

Not content with annoying us all at the pub with your loud views and the sports car you left awkwardly positioned for EVERYONE else out in the car park you make sure to wear the ‘laid back, but really actually I’m monied’ badge of moronic mutual recognition and twatish self-congratulation. This makes you visually stand out in much the same way you do when you open your mouth in your Country Cousin’s company.

Then again, come the revolution, at least those red trousers will make you easy to spot. Much like the spotless 4x4s, the new shiny clean Hunter Wellies, the woven country baskets, the Aga servicer’s van outside your house and the fact that your kids dissapeared off of the face of the Earth after they left the jolly little local C of E Primary school. As always, it’s take take take with you people.

We know who you are, and we’re watching.

 

'Excuse me my good man, do you know where this road goes? - Well lady I've been livin' round y'ere for 50 years and it ain't never gone nowheres yet..

 

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