MMoM

Whilst I am still very much mellowing in my melancholy moment of madness I have decided to find something to make me smile. A quick google search for “funny email correspondence” brought me to this result. Now, instead of making me laugh it brought forth the feeling’s I consistently have about “people” as a whole. Slightly ignorant, racist and of course cocky, some think they are funny. Others direct their stupidity towards those, whose only concern is to try and help resolve the situation.

In the link we see an email directed towards a police station in the UK. The complaint being that it is very difficult to get through to someone on the phone and the complainee, let’s call him fuckwad to keep his privacy and well being at their uttermost. So Mr Fuckwad decides to email a police station to complain that a bunch of kids or teenagers are playing ball against a fence outside his home. He describes the youths as “walking abortions” and you can already tell he’s the kind of old, grumpy, self serving, self centered, unrealistic, stuck up twat that writes to his local newspaper on a weekly basis to discuss the decline of this country. He probably fought in a war that ended 10 years before he was born, and his sister is friends with the queen.

After a lengthy rant about a simple matter he ends with what can only be considered a rude and peremptory closing of the email.

Here’s where I’ll quote you the professional and polite, also helpful email from his local PC.

“Mr Fuckwad,

I have read your e-mail and understand your frustration at the problems caused by youth playing in the area and the problems you have encountered in trying to contact the police.

As the Community Beat Officer for your street I would like to extend an offer of discussing the matter fully with you.

Should you wish to discuss the matter, please provide contact details (address / telephone number) and when may be suitable.

Regards

PC ???

?????????????

Community Beat Officer”

Let’s dissect the email. First line, a polite greeting to Mr Fuckwad. The hero of this particular story.  The second line and indeed first paragraph begins and ends nicely clearly underlining the issues that were raised in the original complaint and reiterating that the responding PC has taken the trouble to read the dribble coming from Mr F’s mouth as he salivates onto his computer keyboard whilst touching his sister. Ok that bit didn’t happen but he might as well be some inbred hick by the pleasure he takes at his inconsistent and obtuse email where he is clearly attempting some form of humorous writing.
The second paragraph in the response introduces the respondent as the local PCSO. Ok so the email is being responded to by the correct person, someone who understands the complaint and also understands the area and the person he is responding to. Our responding PCSO finishes by simply offering to contact the emailing Mr Fuckwad at a convenient time via the telephone to arrange a face to face meeting where they can discuss the matters that have been brought up and hopefully resolve the issues satisfactory.
So, instead of acknowledging the very polite response and arranging a suitable time to have a much closer and personal resolution to the initial, very minor issue. Mr Fuckwad decides that he is too clever for this simple PCSO and will respond with scorn and sarcasm. I wonder why he has such a bad life and consistently fails to achieve. Karma’s a bitch.

P.s I’m lying in bed typing this by candle light whilst drinking chocolate horlicks. It seems to be a killer equation and only time will tell if it has any exceptions.

Naked Wireless

I recently brought a Bluetooth headset for my IPod and as is only natural have taken every opportunity to walk around my flat naked wearing only my headset listening to some nice misc. Very nice.

There’s no real purpose or thought behind this post really. I’m sitting on the train and feel the need to write. I#’m slightly scared of the swan song….
Writing my last entry without realising would be even worse. But Im happy and relaxed and for once my mind is not running in circles constantly. 2 goals, both achievable. 1 love. Very nice 🙂

Now for the running commentary –

Hopefull a fat person won’t sit next to me…..

6:57 – Sidcup station, large man, pink shirt. Fuck! Terhe’s a gap between us but if some fatty sits down next I’ll be stuck between a wall and a fat person.
Music – Jack Johnson

07:00 – New Eltham Station. Skinny lady, beige coat, metro. Some lttle boy on the front – apparently a 12 year old kiler. What a little bastard!!!. I’m slightly nervous at how close people are, that they could read this. I need some kind of “Don’t look at my screen” shield.
Music – Dirty Pretty Things

07:03 – Mottingham Station. I’m safe. All the seats in my area are taken up but I’m snnoyed that I managed to pick a seat in front of the old lady who would drop coffee by my feet.
Music – Dirty Pretty Things

07:05 – Lee Station. I’ve just realised this train stops more frequently than busses how do I manage to ever get to work on time.
Music – Linkin Park

07:06 – I’m bored of this commentary, going to read.

No – Thank you!

I’m not an idiot – far from it thank you very much. So if I’m standing there behind the till when I have just paid for my Newspapers would you stop looking at me like an idiot and saying “Thank you”, how about you listen the first time when I ask for a receipt – “Waht?!?!” is really not the best or politest answer when you miss what someone says – you brain dead moron! Your working behind a till, I know its early morning and your tired. I work on a reception desk on Saturday’s, I work in IT support the rest of the week, I’m working 6 days a week and then some, so. Basically don’t act like you struggle to get to work in the morning. How difficult is a smile and a little politeness. I don’t want your respect or your undying affection. Just some half decent service. So, No – Thank You! stop repeating the same thing until I get the picture and leave. GAhhhhhh

So, Jade Goody is Dead.

I’m probably going to be really disrespectful in this post so look away now if you have a sensitive stomach, heart or mind.

Now that the disclaimer is out of the way let’s revisit my journey to and from work these last couple of days. Let’s paraphrase the news and overal lets hear the pub gossip – again and again. What do I hear and see but….

Imagine sitting on a train and looking up, looking left, looking right. All you see is Crazy frog’s sister. Much like Crazy frog I can’t wait for this craze to die out.  I know she died of Cancer and everything, I feel a passing sorrow for her and her family – Like I do for anyone I don’t feel a direct connection too. But to treat her like a heroin poignantly reminds me of the total ignorance of this country. The slavery and dependance on the media. In the truth of it a gobby little cow who managed to make money for being a gobby little cow. Suckling on the teat of sympathy and ignorance that has made this country great. I mean wow – a role model to look up to.

“Oh she’s so much like Diana” – Really? Our royal family have gone down the pan.

“She’s done a lot of good for people” – What?
Anyway – like an annoying ringtone I wish this annoying Crazy Jade fad would fade into obscurity like she should of done the first time the nation saw her on TV

Fat People and Train Seats

Now I don’t mean to be rude. But when I’m sitting on a train, reading my paper or my book – Maybe listening to my MP3 Player just minding my own business. So now anyone that travels on public transport knows that it’s difficult to get a seat at the best of times. So I love it when I actually find a seat and plot up, cosy my head in my hood and nap until I get home.

So, when a Fat person sits next to me I get really upset.

2 reasons really – the seats are small and hard to get. It’s for this reason that I hate it when a fat person literally wedge’s themselves between me and another person – practically forcing my off my seat and onto the floor. I mean come on – “Did you pay for two seats you fat bastard? What? No? – then move the fuck over or loose some weight!” “Stop killing your heart with grease and donuts!” “Stop growing so many folds of fat that you constantly sweat – so much so that you are soaked and lubed up enough to slide into a seat half your size without even a grunt.

I wouldn’t mind a fat git having two seats if they pay for them! – Here’s a novel idea – Ban fat people on trains, make them walk. They will lose the weight and then can come back on the trains.

Rant over