Is it too much to ask that old women cover up a bit more? Obviously not all old biddies need to wear more clothing. Some already look like they're dressed for a polar expidition even during the height of summer. Nope, I'm just talking about the ones who believe that they're still sexy and want to show it off to the world. A quick message to all those old bats.
YOU'RE NOT SEXY, COVER IT UP. YOU'VE JUST REDUCED THE CHANCES OF ME GETTING AN ERECTION AGAIN. YEEEEAAAARRRRRRRRCH!!!!!!!!!
Frankly, I have absolutely no desire to look at some wrinkly, saggy, liver-spotted old cleavage. Being male, I have an inbuilt reflex to stare at tits. It's just hard wired into the brain. Tits are generally great. Sadly, the tits-seeking part of my brain occaisonally hijacks my eyes and sends them in the direction of the dried up old bosoms. This is despite years of trying to train this reflex to only seek out young, pert, smooth boobs. Hmmmm, boobs. But I digress. It is easy to get distracted while thinking of breasty-dumpling though. Hmmmm, Boobs.
I can't remember where I was going with this. Hmmmm, boobs.
Oh yeah, old women PUT 'EM AWAY.
Conversely, young attractive birds, please can you wear stuff that's more revealing? I know that it's not been the best summer ever but do you realise just how much better service you'll get in this Post Office if you wear a bikini? Ideally a really tiny one. Finally, if you are female, young and attractive, can you make an effort to get served by me instead of any of my colleagues. I'm sure I have to serve a disproportionatly large amount of total munters while the top totty goes to a colleague. Arsebiscuits.
Thursday, 21 August 2008
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
What, you haven't got any mail? What do you expect me to do about it?
I get a fuck of a lot of people ring me up and moan that they've not had any letters for the last two days and could I please look into it for them.
No, I can't look into it.
This is for several reasons. Firstly, your mail might be delayed somewhere else. Secondly, How am I supposed to track your mail? Royal Mail handles approximately 17 BILLION letters a day*. Only a very few of these are tracked with bar codes throughout their entire journey. The rest of 'em, forget it. If it turns up, great, if not, there's no way it's gonna be traceable.
Finally, I can't be arsed mainly cos you've pissed me off by moaning. So fucking what if you've not had any mail for two days. Who gives a rat's arse if the last time you went without mail for two days was back in world war two. Big fucking deal. I can pretty confidently state that the mail you would get is gonna be junk mail anyway.
Usually, I'm polite enough on the phone and say that I'll look into it but as soon as the phone goes down, so does my fat arse onto my chair.
This recently has in one case not been the best policy. Someone bitched and bitched and bitched at me about not getting any mail. After a bit more bitching, the even summarised their bitching in a letter and sent that to me as well (I shredded it immediately). I assumed that it was the usual case of some mail being a bit delayed and thought it best to ignore.
This turned out to not be true.
One of our relief postman is a total prat. He'd somehow managed to confuse the customer saying "I'm going on holiday for a bit." with "I'm moving forever please return all of my mail." and then put an unofficail note into the frame where the mail for that address is sorted.
Even worse, some other postmen completely ignored their training (Thou shalt not pay any attention to hand-written notes in the frames unless they hast been signed by God Almighty (or a manager)) and started returning this guys mail.
Fortunately, one of the two posties that are actually on the ball (if you're reading this, then you're one of 'em) spotted this note and binned it.
So, the moral of this tale is "Fuck it, it'll all work itself out without any effort from me".
* Very approximately, statistic may have been made up on the spot.
No, I can't look into it.
This is for several reasons. Firstly, your mail might be delayed somewhere else. Secondly, How am I supposed to track your mail? Royal Mail handles approximately 17 BILLION letters a day*. Only a very few of these are tracked with bar codes throughout their entire journey. The rest of 'em, forget it. If it turns up, great, if not, there's no way it's gonna be traceable.
Finally, I can't be arsed mainly cos you've pissed me off by moaning. So fucking what if you've not had any mail for two days. Who gives a rat's arse if the last time you went without mail for two days was back in world war two. Big fucking deal. I can pretty confidently state that the mail you would get is gonna be junk mail anyway.
Usually, I'm polite enough on the phone and say that I'll look into it but as soon as the phone goes down, so does my fat arse onto my chair.
This recently has in one case not been the best policy. Someone bitched and bitched and bitched at me about not getting any mail. After a bit more bitching, the even summarised their bitching in a letter and sent that to me as well (I shredded it immediately). I assumed that it was the usual case of some mail being a bit delayed and thought it best to ignore.
This turned out to not be true.
One of our relief postman is a total prat. He'd somehow managed to confuse the customer saying "I'm going on holiday for a bit." with "I'm moving forever please return all of my mail." and then put an unofficail note into the frame where the mail for that address is sorted.
Even worse, some other postmen completely ignored their training (Thou shalt not pay any attention to hand-written notes in the frames unless they hast been signed by God Almighty (or a manager)) and started returning this guys mail.
Fortunately, one of the two posties that are actually on the ball (if you're reading this, then you're one of 'em) spotted this note and binned it.
So, the moral of this tale is "Fuck it, it'll all work itself out without any effort from me".
* Very approximately, statistic may have been made up on the spot.
Thursday, 7 August 2008
The macines are taking over...And they don't like gypsies.
Every so often we have a slight technical hiccup. Invariably, this is due to the PCs that the till software being ancient. Seriously old. So old that three or four years ago, the ram in them was doubled to 256mb. They run on Windows NT 4.0 (remember that?) so they're getting slower and slower and less and less reliable as patches and upgrades to the software we use clog up the systems. Joy!!!!
However, the problem we had last week was due to our broadband connention to the banking system. Everything was working fine for a while until one of our regular gypsies came in to get some cash from her dole scrounger account.
Her request for some booze money was denied. It wasn't the usual denial due to the wrong number or not enough money in the account. It was due to our connection to whatever server runs these accounts. We tried again just to make it appear like we give a shit (we don't, not for certain characters anyway) and it was refused again. We told her to come back a bit later and things should be back up and running by then. It wasn't as if she was in that much of a hurry cos the pubs weren't due to open for another hour.
Not long after, a pensioner wanted some cash from his account. We weren't sure whether it'd work cos they need the same connection. To our surprise, it worked fine and we were able to pony up some dough for him. For the next hour or so it worked fine and we were able to process banking transactions.
Cue the return of our favourite gyppo. As soon as she tried her card again, the system decided to go belly up again. Immediately after, another of our "travelling*" community came in for some more undeserved benefit cash. This was also refused. Smiles and giggles were supressed our side.
Five minutes later, everything was working fine again.
The only sensible conclusion to come to is that the Post Office computer network has finally attained sentience and has a grudge against gypsies. I can't wait until killer Post Office terminals from the future are sent back to kill the resistance leader before he's born. Or something.
*Very few of these "travellers" actually do any travelling at all. Until they start getting final demands for bills, parking fines or court summonses or similar. Then they tend to travell rather sharpish. In ther interest of balance however, not all of them do this. They just stay where they are, not get into trouble and scrounge far too much money off the state. Lazy bastards.
However, the problem we had last week was due to our broadband connention to the banking system. Everything was working fine for a while until one of our regular gypsies came in to get some cash from her dole scrounger account.
Her request for some booze money was denied. It wasn't the usual denial due to the wrong number or not enough money in the account. It was due to our connection to whatever server runs these accounts. We tried again just to make it appear like we give a shit (we don't, not for certain characters anyway) and it was refused again. We told her to come back a bit later and things should be back up and running by then. It wasn't as if she was in that much of a hurry cos the pubs weren't due to open for another hour.
Not long after, a pensioner wanted some cash from his account. We weren't sure whether it'd work cos they need the same connection. To our surprise, it worked fine and we were able to pony up some dough for him. For the next hour or so it worked fine and we were able to process banking transactions.
Cue the return of our favourite gyppo. As soon as she tried her card again, the system decided to go belly up again. Immediately after, another of our "travelling*" community came in for some more undeserved benefit cash. This was also refused. Smiles and giggles were supressed our side.
Five minutes later, everything was working fine again.
The only sensible conclusion to come to is that the Post Office computer network has finally attained sentience and has a grudge against gypsies. I can't wait until killer Post Office terminals from the future are sent back to kill the resistance leader before he's born. Or something.
*Very few of these "travellers" actually do any travelling at all. Until they start getting final demands for bills, parking fines or court summonses or similar. Then they tend to travell rather sharpish. In ther interest of balance however, not all of them do this. They just stay where they are, not get into trouble and scrounge far too much money off the state. Lazy bastards.
Friday, 1 August 2008
Stupid things that people say.
"I did put the right number in."
This is often said just as some one's debit card transaction/cash withdrawal has just been refused due to the wrong PIN being entered. Obviously, model of tact and politeness that I am, I always say something along the lines of "well, it is easy to catch a number twice" or some such crap like that. What I'm really thinking is slightly different.
"No you didn't put the right number in. If you had, I'd be handing over your cash/receipt and saying goodbye instead. You may have put the right number in but you did it wrongly. You twat. I don't care how much whiny bleating is now going to come out of your cakehole, you got the number wrong and no amount of your pointless noise is going to change that. I'd much rather that you'd got the number right first time then you'd be buggering off instead of fucking whingeing at me and wasting valuable oxygen. Try your number again and then please FUCK OFF!!!"
This is often said just as some one's debit card transaction/cash withdrawal has just been refused due to the wrong PIN being entered. Obviously, model of tact and politeness that I am, I always say something along the lines of "well, it is easy to catch a number twice" or some such crap like that. What I'm really thinking is slightly different.
"No you didn't put the right number in. If you had, I'd be handing over your cash/receipt and saying goodbye instead. You may have put the right number in but you did it wrongly. You twat. I don't care how much whiny bleating is now going to come out of your cakehole, you got the number wrong and no amount of your pointless noise is going to change that. I'd much rather that you'd got the number right first time then you'd be buggering off instead of fucking whingeing at me and wasting valuable oxygen. Try your number again and then please FUCK OFF!!!"
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