As a result of driving a convertible due west all week, the left side of my face has acquired a respectable tan. The right side looks like it's spent the summer indoors drinking BEER. I look like the Phantom of the fucking Opera. If it isn't sunny one the way back I'm going to have to start job-hunting looking like a twat.
Guess what? It rained nearly all the way back. Good job I didn't start looking for a job after all...
Now. Lloyds TSB Mastercard. How is it that your Babbage-Engines can block credit card payments
1 half-way through a three-week trip to Leftpondia, but don't notice two payments to the same company on the same day for the same amount
with the same fucking reference number? And the amount involved is non-trivial - the thick end of nine hundred and fifty of the
BRITONS' pounds. You are dicks.
Budget Rent-a-Car, you are equally culpable. You'd better give me a refund pronto or your motor-car might meet with a nasty accident come September.
Also, IKEA. Please get some Lindmon 120x155 venetian blinds pronto. You wouldn't want me to go to B&Q now, would you?
1 - except for hotels