I went to see the fireworks display in sydney last night
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.
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.
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.
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.
Love is not the greatest emotion ever. With it’s trixy ways and incredible likeness – Lust has moved to the fore. We now have to contend not only with Lady luck but the formidable temptress of Forbidden Lust.
Talking from experience, I hear “No” and take it as an invite, a challenge, a goal. The power of denial takes hold to such a degree that the confusions between Love and Lust become so entangled that they are undistinguish-able.
I’m certain that we all want what we can’t, shouldn’t have. But I think I have it slightly worse. It’s in my nature particularly strongly to want to be with someone else. To share happiness, joy, and kisses in the dark. Holding hands could lead to a walk down a dangerous path. For the wrenching emptiness is crying out to be filled. This forced separation that I have put on myself, this wall, where I block all my natural instincts in favour of healing a heart, too many times broken.
This stupidity of keeping a distance from anyone I might get close to is seriously battling against my self constraint and logic. Those emotions and thoughts that all tell me its wrong. In words – My Head is once more doing battle with My Heart. And losing, all I really want is that connection, maybe even the certain tingling and warmth that can only be felt from a lovers embrace.
I was having a conversation with someone this morning and got really really incensed. I was actually insulted by the ignorance of what was being said. Asked what I was doing I told them that I was reading the 6th Harry Potter book, again. To my utter dismay and shock I got a reply along the lines of “Why bother there’s a film coming out for that soon”
Surely anyone that has ever picked up a book, read and article or even seen a newspaper know that there is nothing more powerful and influential than the written word. Surely people understand that a book is so much more involved and exciting. It lets you delve into a whole new world, where your imagination can go wild. Where as film’s are their primarily to make money. They have limits on how long they can be and as such can never contain the twists, turns, plot lines and intrigue that books can. With amazing character buildup, so much so that you almost know the characters personally. Every thought, every whim, every desire in their hearts and minds is open to you and there is nothing stronger and more exciting and fun then that.
Plus, Harry Potter is a good fun story.
EDIT: A post in response to this blog. Judge for yourselfs http://thoughtblender.wordpress.com/2008/10/21/rather-watch-movie-than-read/
My friend got taken into hospital last night, emergency due to a suspected appendicitis. I was very tired and drunk, I was asleep in fact when my flat mate told me. (He’s dating her) so I ended up falling back to sleep and not even remembering in the morning, turns out he had been up all night fretting, as soon as I even stirred just to feed my fish and slump back into bed he was knocking on my door.
So I’m in the kitchen sorting out some bit’s, apparently my friends mum is coming to pick us up in a short while so we can go see her. My flat mate is up in his room on the phone to his manager explaining the situation. Continue reading