Wednesday, 3 April 2013

"Please hold, your call will be answered shortly..."

Isn't it ironic that I've been paying money for a phone call by being on hold for a good 20 minutes now whilst trying to pay a bill?  Like they don't take enough of my money already, they purposely drag out the call to drain the rest of my bank account and kill my brain cells by playing awful music down the phone. I do not have time for this, nor patience. And they wonder why I have an attitude towards them when they finally do answer. What happened to 'customer care'? Absolute bullshit. And now to top it off, Adele has just started playing... KILL ME NOW.

Friday, 4 May 2012

Falseadvertising-alitis

I've been struck down once again by an evil influenza virus, and my head feels as though someone has poured petrol over me and then lit a match. As much as I feel like shit and my brain has melted, it's got me wondering: when this virus was first discovered, what the hell earned it the nickname of a 'cold'?! Surely it would make more sense for it to be called 'makesyourfaceswellandkillsyourtastebuds-alitis'? If the person who invented the 'cold' nickname was still alive, I would take their sorry ass to court. But instead, I'm going to sign off from here and bury my head in a bucket of ice.

Sunday, 11 March 2012

Relocation Relocation

So tomorrow we're moving house. I'm normally ridiculously poorly organised and all over the place, but in this instance I think my organisational skills have far exceeded my expectations considering I was only informed of this move 4 days ago. However much I try and big myself up though, packing has been a complete nightmare. I never have enough storage, let alone bubble wrap, and I just know that when I arrive at our new accommodation I won't be able to find anything at all. It's almost like my stuff gets sucked into a parallel universe  and there's no way to get it back. What's making it worse is that my dad has taken it upon himself to be as unhelpful as possible, by sitting on the sofa watching TV whilst I run around like a headless chicken trying to get everything sorted ready for the man with the van to come and pick it all up. No wonder people say moving house is one of the most stressful occasions in life. I couldn't agree more.

Monday, 20 February 2012

Giving my life up for lent.

With Lent being just two days away, I'm thinking about giving up Facebook for 40 days and 40 nights. People who know me will know I'm a complete addict, even though over recent months activity on my newsfeed has significantly dwindled. Will I miss it? Probably. Will not being on it cause me to fall behind in social happenings? Probably. But if one positive is to come out of this, it'll make me feel like I have an actual life, not just a virtual reality that revolves around reading awful statuses created by supposed "friends".
So let's see how long it takes for my very little willpower to crumble and for me to click straight back on to the book with a face.

Thursday, 16 February 2012

Postal mystery.

In November, my friend Jade stayed at my house after a night out. She left the next day and forgot her phone charger, so I said I'd send it to her through the post as obviously it was a necessity and I wasn't going to see her for a while. As promised, I sent it to her and she sent me a text to say she'd received it and thank you. I didn't think anything more of it. However, a few days ago, I arrived home to find the charger on the floor, having been posted back to me in exactly the same envelope that I'd sent it in, with a sticker on it saying "this item could not be delivered because it was not called for." Confused by this, I rang Jade to see if she had any idea what was going on. She said she still had the charger at her house, and had been using it since I sent it back to her. I honestly have no clue how the charger could be at her house but also have been delivered back to my house at the same time. Obviously it must be a simple case of phone charger cloning, or some sort of alien conspiracy. Either way, Royal Mail have some serious explaining to do.

Tuesday, 7 February 2012

Uneducated Britain.

According to the Government, us Brits are meant to be incredibly intellectual, a lot smarter than our American cousins. So how come every time I go on to a social networking site I always see at least 5 people making the same grammatical error - 'your' instead of 'you're' and vice-versa? It's almost like people aren't bothering to continue with the English language skills that they learnt for 12 years at school and are instead choosing to piss me off with awful spelling and grammar. I can't even describe how much it annoys me when I see 'there' when it should be 'their' and so on. So people, please make sure you remember what you learnt at school and stop making ridiculous mistakes, because it just makes grammar Nazis like me go nuts and write stupid pointless blog entries like this one.

Monday, 6 February 2012

£47 just for the pleasure.

Having hated going to the dentist ever since I can remember, today's check-up made me nervous to say the least. I knew exactly what was going to be said -Bla bla bla, "you need to have that tooth removed otherwise it'll get worse" bla bla bla. I had previously cancelled an appointment to have the tooth in question extracted just through pure fear, as all I could imagine was being chained to a chair and being tortured like I was in a Saw movie or something. Googling 'tooth extraction' isn't helping my nerves either, as I refuse to believe anyone who says it doesn't hurt! I'm now £17 poorer after today's 10 minutes of mouth-fiddling, and apparently having the tooth taken out will rob me of another £30. It's alright for the receptionist to sit behind her desk and whisper sweet nothings, but she probably gets her dental treatment for free after giving the dentist a blowjob or two. The NHS in this country is absolutely atrocious.