Wednesday 19 September 2007

Hello I want tech supports

Ok, what's your username?
..username? what's that?
it's the name you use to login
..the contract number?
no, the username for the website
..can I give you the contract?
I can't help you without the username
..I don't know it
Have you ever registered on the website?
..maybe, I'm not sure
what's your email address? and I can do a search
*numerous attempts to decipher incomprehensible email address, can't find anything likely*
why don't I just give you the username?



kill me

Tuesday 18 September 2007

Not Top Chop

NEVER EVER get your haircut by a fucking bald man, what the fuck do they know about hair?
how does "get rid of this thick mess around here but leave it long around here" (accompanied with all appropriate hand gestures) translate into "please make me look like I've just been assaulted by a crackhead with a pair of pink plastic scissors"
this is the main reason I went to a hairdresser who had english as their native language
I aslo decided to go a bit upmarket to one of the fancier looking places so I wouldn't get some half stoned mong who has deigned to divert his attention from his xbox for just long enough to shave one side of your head half the length of the other side

yes I know you're supposed to keep an eye on what he's doing but he did the back and the sides alright and then he was standing in front of the mirror and tilting my head and before I realised what the fuckwit was doing it was too late

seriously I haven't been this upset about a haircut since the time I was 10 and my mum cut the top of my ear off or maybe the time I had a haircut that made me get included with the girls in the school photo

I think I'm going to have to have a cry

Monday 17 September 2007

A cavalcade of morons

I've been trying for a while to get a proper tech job as opposed to a phone monkey one, I've just found a company that employees special needs children in their tech support so I'll apply there
well, whoever sent me this email must have some special requirements

"To: VMOS
From: Mongo the mongolian mongoloid
Subject: nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

Nuuurrrr,
I have a piece of paper with numbers on it, it has two numbers. The first number is not the right number, it does not work. What number should I use?
dsfojdsfjkningsdf
me want potty
"

well, alright, it's slightly abridged but it still contains the essential essence of the issue.
That's how I started the day, then just after lunch I got this genius

"Hello, I'm trying to register this thing and I've followed the instructions but now the website is asking me for a username and password"
{somewhat posh sounding english chap, sounds like he's about to cry for his mummy}

ME - "well do you have a username and password for this website?"
{I'm being polite even though the mere sound of his voice is enough to make me want to slap him and tell him to go change his own fucking nappie}

"yes"
{whaddya want? A biscuit}

ME - "Well, have you tried to enter that username and password?"
{well of course he has, only a moron would phone for permission first}

"no, the instructions don't mention that"
{this sort of person is the reason coffee cups have "contents may be hot" on the side}

ME - "Well, why don't you try it now then?"
{I'd accept "I'm sorry I have no arms as a valid excuse}

"Oh, I've forgotten my password, should I create a new account then?"
{would you buy a new car if it ran out of petrol? Well you might, I daresay you've worn the same pair of y-fronts since mumsy went swimming and lost the note that said "Keep head above water and breathe"}

and then I ended the day with delightful conumdrum

.. "Hello, I can't log in to my account"
ME - "What's the problem?"
.. "I'm using somebody elses' username"
ME - "have you tried using your own username?"
.. "Do you think that's the problem?"
ME - "I'd say it's quite likely"

Wouldn't be so bad if it hadn't taken TEN FUCKING MINUTES to work this out as the little fucker outright LIED every time I asked him a fucking question

These people are not anybodys role model

Friday 7 September 2007

Manky Feet Leechers

I was at a festival the other day and we went to see the Llanyfairathcramalamdingodongwhoopwhoopdatsdasoundofdapoliceisit male voice choir but they were ill so they called in a favour from their golf buddies the manic street preachers.
It was a pretty decent set, the Manics played their greatest hits and a couple of more obscure numbers. According to one official Manics expert (TM) who has been to see them seven times, it wasn't their best but still pretty good. But I don't want to talk about the music or the new guitarist who was hiding in the corner like a bold puppy, no I want to talk about Mr Nicky Wire.

Mr Wire pranced on stage like a bass wielding leprechaun sixth former, he minced up to a feather boa draped mic stand wearing very tight trousers with goofy red trainers and a black blazer with shiny little epaulettes, not quite the mychemicalromance hussar jobbies but getting close and he did pay tribute to the sartorial genius that is Adam Ant in another way.

He had flopy red hair, red like a jaffa cake muffin that you've just vomited up leaving a 20 foot streak on the side of a p&o ferry, although I'm not sure he had that in mind when he picked the colour. He had black eye liner and lots of black eye shadow which gave him a bit of a sad panda look although this was somewhat mitigated by the glittery warpaint stripes he had across his cheeks.

He spent most of the gig prancing, posing, strutting, leaping, gyrating and generally gymnasticating about like someone who is really too old for this kind of behaviour. A man of his age should really be having a nice sit down with some slippers and biscuits I mean the man must be about 40 or something.

But on the other hand he thinks the Killers are shit.

He's my new role model