I just read that a sixth-former at my old school is representing South Wales in the Miss Great Britain competition. Where the hell were the beauties when I was in school?
Archive for the ‘life’ Category
How times change
Friday, February 24th, 2006Chinese Democracy tracks hit the net
Thursday, February 16th, 2006If I was to say I had 2 tracks from “Chinese Democracy” by Guns N’ Roses (over a decade in the making) on my playlist, you’d probably call me a liar. You’d be wrong. God bless CD leakers.
Here is an abridged version of what I’ve been up to lately:
Saw the Superbowl with a bunch of friends from halls. Unfortunately, the owner of the bar acted like a self-indulgent prick who kept giving his own horrendously one-sided commentary, given he was a Pittsburgh Steelers fan. (And I was supporting them too, thanks to a £20 bet)
Saw the Wales-Scotland rugby match with a friend I went to school with, which was nice.
I have to make a presentation about a database I’m working on. Snag is, I haven’t done anything yet – in fact, thanks to a slow moving tech support group I don’t even have the server to play with yet. Unimpressed.
Work is plodding on. I suppose I’d enjoy it more if I had the certainly of a permanent job, but thanks to the glacier-like progression of grants within the funding system, I still have 3 weeks to wait until I know either way.
Generally, life is a little boring. Need something like a lottery win to spice it up. Having said that, I did win £32 on Euromillions last week. (I bought a ticket despite the fact that – according to the bookies - Elvis Presley is more likely to crash a UFO into the White House then you are to win the Euromillions jackpot. I think I believe them.)
Male, 21, seeks mail.
Tuesday, January 17th, 2006I just finished a three-page epic complaint letter to the head of the Royal Mail Docklands delivery office, owing to the fact that the gimps he employs can’t do anything right. In summary:
- They lost 2 special deliveries in as many months worth several hundred quid
- Postmen never buzz to see if anyone’s in before leaving a “sorry, you were out” card (especially if you’ve taken a day off because you knew there was mail coming…)
- Put recorded items in your mailbox without obtaining a signature
- If they do leave a card, the phone number of it doesn’t work and the identifying details of the delivery are omitted, rendering the mail near impossible to trace
- Etc.
I don’t have much luck with mail or couriers.
the good – Fedex (though hideously expensive), Special Mail Services
the bad – Initial City Link, Parcel Force, DHL
the ugly – Royal Mail
The postman always rings early
Saturday, January 7th, 2006
I was roused from my sleep by “the postman” who “had a parcel” for me. In my momentary lapse into dysphasia I mumbled something about being there in a minute (or at least I thought that…) and staggered into the bathroom, where I put on the first thing to hand – an ill-fitting old dressing gown belonging to the missus.
When I (finally) answered the door I discover it’s no ordinary mailman, it’s Louise’s Dad, delivering some DVDs I had ordered. And laughing heartily at my choice of morning attire. Nothing like a generous helping of humiliation to wake you up in the morning.
The accompanying photo is the stack of DVDs I acquired over Christmas. Some might say I went a bit overboard. They’re probably right.
Fluid dynamics
Friday, January 6th, 2006You know the scene in Dumb and Dumber where Harry is on the toilet?
I arrived at work late today.
That is all.
2005: The Year In Review
Monday, January 2nd, 2006The last year was a bit hit-and-miss – the relief of finally obtaining my degree (and other things) seems to have been offset by poor luck later on in the year. Must be karma.
The Highs:
- Most important of all: Getting my university degree (possibly the most relieved I have ever been)
- Bagging a fantastic job at UCL
- Dad winning a top-of-the-range computer in a competition run by Computer Shopper magazine
- Dad then giving me the computer as a graduation present
The Lows:
- Two aunties dying within days of each other before Christmas
- Some junkie burgling my parents house and making off with thousands of pounds-worth of jewellery
- The Missus losing £600 she’d paid upfront for a Tiny/Time laptop
- The ex-landlord fiasco (though it had a happy ending after many tense weeks)
Maybe 2006 will turn out to be middle-of-the-road and plodding. We’ll see. Here are some predictions of things that definitely won’t be happening in the coming year:
- I become a millionaire (but it won’t be for lack of trying or desire)
- P2P file-sharing is destroyed by the MPAA and RIAA, once and for all
- I join a gym
- The Northern Line goes a whole day without disruption or delays
- I go a week without being targeted by a charity mugger around UCL or Tottenham Court Road
- I use the “I’m busy”, “away”, and “on the phone” status messages on MSN honestly. (Who does?)
Ugh. Back to work tomorrow. I have to spec, order, and set-up a web server. Which I know fuck all about. I think I’ll be pestering my friend on 7th floor to help me out… I’m not looking forward to actually getting up in the mornings again.
I hate Costcutters
Thursday, December 1st, 2005I fail to see how Costcutters got their name. Are they being sarcastic? Every time I go into Royal Victoria Dock’s Costcutters, going to the counter follows this pattern:
- Pick up item, slowly.
- If the item has a price label on it, grimace and type said amount in. Glance up and glare at customer for getting an item at a reasonable price.
- If the item doesn’t have a price on, jabber something to someone in a back room in a language that I don’t understand, receive an equally unintelligible reply, then type in a price that far exceeds any sane cost for said item.
Case in point: I like Bird’s Eye Veggie Fingers. (There’s probably an obscure sexual pun to be made there but it’s too early in the morning to find it.) One day I bought them without a price tag on, and upon checking the receipt afterwards found I’d paid £2.50 for them. The following week it had on a price tag of 99p.
They are scum.
Mr. Popular
Monday, November 14th, 2005Double-post today because I accidentaly lost the beautifully-worded post I wrote earlier.
I managed to sell 97 of my old Playstation games on eBay over the weekend. This is pleasing. Posting them, however, isn’t.
I got to the post office earlier when only three people were ahead of me in the queue. Unfortunately for subsequent customers there were only two people serving the customers, with one set of working postal weighing scales between them, and I had 30 jiffy bags of PS1 games to send. I was not a popular guy, judging by the glares aimed at me, soundtracked by sighing and huffing of pissed off people in the queue.
By the time I left the queue stretched out the door and around the corner and easily had about 30 or 40 people. Fuck ‘em. It’s my right to post a shitload of mail if I want to.
Oh, and I got new shoes yesterday. Inexpensive but functional. Slip-on, not laced – because I’m lazy.
How hard is it to deliver a letter?
Wednesday, November 2nd, 2005I just got offered a Jaffa Cake by some guy in my office I’ve never spoken to. He’s got one of those Jaffa Cake tubes and is currently touring the office offering delicious orange jelly and sponge treats to all. That brightened up my day.
Then my day got overcast and pissed down raindrops of misery on me. The Royal Mail (should be called the Royal Fail) have lost a special delivery containing concert tickets. Despite the fact that it’s supposedly “tracked” and “a signature is taken from the recipient”, the peasant woman at the other end of the phone told me that because they didn’t get the letter back when it went out for delivery last Friday, they presumed it was delivered. Never mind taking a signature, nor the fact that I got a card telling me “we tried to deliver an item but you were out”.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Special Mail Services refused to hand over a letter to my fiancee because clearly she isn’t me. Never mind she answered my door, with access to my chequebook and all my utility bills as proof that I do actually live there. They think they’re Top Secret, like the Men in Black or something.
The Missus tried calling them up to arrange a redelivery and the guy answering got all flustered and was like “I can’t even discuss this with you” then refused to talk to her about my mail. I mean, she shouldn’t even know it exists, right? Like Area 51. Right, so you’re boss is going to neuralise you, take you to Area 51 and let the greys thought-rape you to see how much you know about Mathew Browne’s classified documents. Dude, it was just a letter.
Every delivery firm, be it couriers, the Royal Fail or Special Mail Services, are all Cunts. They should all hand over their businesses to the pizza delivery boys of Caroline’s Pizza. They always get it right.
Victory in sight
Tuesday, October 18th, 2005I got a call from my solicitor this morning saying that my **** of an ex-landlord has agreed to settle the legal claim out of court. Of course, there is still scope for him to still be an idiot about it – such as not telling the court the case is over, or refusing to pay the settlement amount – but hopefully this whole mess will be officially over very shortly.
I am so relieved.