Author Topic: The RANT thread (often contains fruity language) (Read 3002478 times)

Cudzoziemiec · « **Reply #18525 on:** 06 February, 2015, 01:04:06 pm »

As mcshroom said, used to get them at my parents' address, cunningly tucked inside a magazine. I've no idea who lives there now, maybe they're still receiving them, just as the old landlord in Poland is probably still receiving a Rose catalogue.

Feline · « **Reply #18526 on:** 06 February, 2015, 01:48:46 pm »

I don't mind the odd alumni newsletter, but the begging phone call I was unimpressed by.

It was a few years back now, and I told them that since I was still deferring my student loan repayments due to low income and trying to raise my kids on a budget, paying towards someone else's kids university education wasn't high on my priority list. I think the student making the phone calls to earn some extra dosh had probably been under the impression that all university graduates are loaded. They sounded slightly shocked.

Kim · « **Reply #18527 on:** 06 February, 2015, 02:32:39 pm »

I never got any begging letters, but then they never had an address for my parents.

Otto · « **Reply #18528 on:** 06 February, 2015, 05:56:29 pm »

Souhern trains.... You are a shower of incompetent rancid cunt-monkies

That is all

Torslanda · « **Reply #18529 on:** 07 February, 2015, 11:00:47 am »

^^^^

Less of a rant, more of a penetrating analysis . . .

citoyen · « **Reply #18530 on:** 07 February, 2015, 03:46:40 pm »

Cunt-monkies? That's a new one!

Southeastern trains are also cunt-monkies. I was working late on Thursday but was aware there were planned engineering works affecting late night trains between Faversham and Whitstable. However, I didn't think it would be a problem because the national rail website promised there would be a replacement bus service.

There was no replacement bus service. I had to wake my wife to ask her to collect me from Faversham. Eventually got home around 1.30am.

Definitely cunt-monkies.

ian · « **Reply #18531 on:** 08 February, 2015, 12:24:20 pm »

I'd have got a taxi and sent them the bill (I often have, they pay).

Yeah, to Southern. They're prime knobjockeys to be sure. Special shout out for First Capital Connect (praise be that you don't have to use that shower of shit) and Network Rail. I know your trains aren't going via London Bridge. According to your timetabling machine, you apparently don't quite know this. Might it be easier for me to get the bloody train from Blackfriars to East Croydon and change, you think, rather than get the train to East Croydon, and then – erm – back to London Bridge so I can a train that stops at East Croydon. The clue is the 'stops at East Croydon' bit.

Pickled Onion · « **Reply #18532 on:** 08 February, 2015, 01:50:09 pm »

Quote from: billplumtree on 03 February, 2015, 01:35:33 pm

They (them, the bastards) have just sent me an email reminder.
[snip]
But no:
Click on the I Still Don't Need a Licence button embedded in the email
Get confronted with web page: click *another* I Still Don't Need a Licence button (didn't I just do that?) then Continue
Next page: enter name, phone number, postcode, email address, 10-digit reference number in the email, before continuing...
...er, hang on a minute. You emailed me - you already know all this stuff. If you'd pre-filled the form via the email link, I might have considered it, but as it is you can just fuck right off. Bastards.

Standard "being safe on the internet" advice is never, ever, click on a link in an unsolicited email.

citoyen · « **Reply #18533 on:** 08 February, 2015, 03:56:34 pm »

Quote from: ian on 08 February, 2015, 12:24:20 pm

I'd have got a taxi and sent them the bill (I often have, they pay).

I considered that but my experience of trying to get money back off those bastards is that it's more painful than it's worth. Is there a set procedure for reclaiming taxi fares? Might be worth trying next time (there inevitably will be a next time).

citoyen · « **Reply #18534 on:** 08 February, 2015, 04:11:12 pm »

Just got home from a very pleasant 80km ride with a friend, only marred towards the end when we came across a father and son standing by the side of the road with their bikes. Stopped to ask them if they were OK and it turned out the kid had just been knocked off by a road sweeper whose driver was obviously in such an urgent hurry to get to his road sweeping assignment that not only could he not wait until it was safe to pass, he then couldn't wait to check if the lad he'd just tried to kill was OK. The fucking fuck.

Luckily the boy was unharmed, save for a slight tear in the knees of his tights. They were just waiting for the police to arrive so they could give a statement. It was a Serco truck, presumably on council business, so with any luck they will be able to track down the culprit and throw the book at him. Though I won't be holding my breath for a result on that one. The father seemed more shaken up than his son, tbh - a quite understandable mix of anger at the driver, concern for his offspring and frustration at being powerless to do anything.

I really hope it doesn't put the lad off cycling, though I get the impression from what his dad was saying that it's more likely to send his mum into over-protective mode and not let him out on his bike. I tried to reassure the dad that this kind of thing is mercifully rare but inside I was seething with impotent rage on their behalf.

hellymedic · « **Reply #18535 on:** 08 February, 2015, 04:26:20 pm »

Sainsbury's: I have now made FOUR phone calls about the non-delivery of a few tins and other non-perishables on Thursday.

WHY THE FUCK do you have 'I Just Can't Get Enough' as your 'hold' muzak?
I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!

T42 · « **Reply #18536 on:** 08 February, 2015, 04:37:40 pm »

Dunno about Sainsbury's, but my ISP not only inflicts hold muzak on us but has to intersperse it with propaganda snippets. Muzak I can tune out when I want to get on with something while I'm waiting, but if I have to listen to some mendacious habbage proclaiming "We asked you how to improve improve our service..." one more time I'm going to move my VPS somewhere else.

matthew · « **Reply #18537 on:** 08 February, 2015, 04:41:56 pm »

citoyen,

those gritters sweepers are often live tracked by GPS. Provided the police pull a finger out the driver should be easily identifiable and the book can be thrown.

citoyen · « **Reply #18538 on:** 08 February, 2015, 06:08:51 pm »

Matthew - yes, the same thought occurred to me, and we pointed this out to the dad who was frustrated at having been unable to get the reg details. Fingers crossed they can track down to culprit and then do something about it.

Eccentrica Gallumbits · « **Reply #18539 on:** 08 February, 2015, 08:34:22 pm »

My experience is that if it was a council truck, they will do everything they can to track down the driver and investigate, and if a complaint is upheld they will throw the book at the driver, along with all the other books and the bookcase too.

jsabine · « **Reply #18540 on:** 09 February, 2015, 12:35:48 am »

If it's a contracted-out service, there will be another layer of management which *may* interfere with the book's trajectory.

Glad the lad was pretty much OK.

ian · « **Reply #18541 on:** 09 February, 2015, 10:36:25 am »

Quote from: citoyen on 08 February, 2015, 03:56:34 pm

Quote from: ian on 08 February, 2015, 12:24:20 pm
I'd have got a taxi and sent them the bill (I often have, they pay).

I considered that but my experience of trying to get money back off those bastards is that it's more painful than it's worth. Is there a set procedure for reclaiming taxi fares? Might be worth trying next time (there inevitably will be a next time).

I just send them a strongly worded complaint about the circumstances and the receipt. You know the story, when they fuck up that there's either no one there, or whomever is there doesn't know what's happening, and doesn't have the authority to call taxis, and seemingly never has the ability to contact someone who does. Never once, in decades of train fuck-ups, has someone turned up and said 'sorry folks, it's a mess, let's get you home.' Instead you get some poor sap destined to be the spittle magnet for irate passengers.

I live on a line that Southern frequently forgets it has, so I get to complain a lot. Or rather, as I cycle, get to listen to my wife complain.

And don't ever try to talk to the ticket guy in the station. I dunno where they find them. I tried to buy a travelcard the other evening (because I'd forgot my Oyster card, and yes, I realised later about the entire contactless debit card thing) and I got the grumpiest 'this is a train station, we don't know about those' - yeah, a train station in London zone 6. Jeez, I just wanted to know what existed, I've not bought one for years. And he could have reminded me about the entire contactless thing.

citoyen · « **Reply #18542 on:** 09 February, 2015, 10:41:56 am »

Quote from: jsabine on 09 February, 2015, 12:35:48 am

If it's a contracted-out service, there will be another layer of management which *may* interfere with the book's trajectory.

This is my fear but I've contacted the council and they seem keen to follow it up, so fingers crossed. Just wish I'd thought to take their details because I could have put them in touch with friends in the local press and got them to kick up a stink about it.

Kim · « **Reply #18543 on:** 09 February, 2015, 12:09:58 pm »

Quote from: ian on 09 February, 2015, 10:36:25 am

You know the story, when they fuck up that there's either no one there, or whomever is there doesn't know what's happening, and doesn't have the authority to call taxis, and seemingly never has the ability to contact someone who does. Never once, in decades of train fuck-ups, has someone turned up and said 'sorry folks, it's a mess, let's get you home.'

Barakta and I managed it once, after getting stranded in London (en route to Canterbury) after our train from Bristol was delayed by several hours due to a landslide. The guy in the customer service office thrust a taxi form into our hands and directed us to the taxi rank before hastily closing the shutters and turning off the lights in advance of the bulk of the passengers (who Just Happened To Be victorious rugball fans who'd spent about 4 hours on a train with only lager and low-information-content announcements for entertainment) arrived from the platform.

spesh · « **Reply #18544 on:** 09 February, 2015, 07:37:54 pm »

So I'm walking home from doing some shopping, and I needed to cross a side road. There's a BMW convertible at the end, whose driver wanted to turn right into the road I'm walking down. A BMW travelling in the opposite direction to me slows and its driver flashes his lights, indicating that he's letting the side road BMW driver out. So I figured that the BMW pulling out would block the path of the BMW driver wanting to turn in for long enough such that by the time he turned in, I would be on the safer side of the road, if not across it already. Only the spooge-sucker at the wheel of the BMW wanting to turn in decides he's going to cut the corner, only just missing me...

Right then, Mr. BMW driver - which parts of:

Highway Code Rule 144...

(click to show/hide)

Rule 152...

(click to show/hide)

not to mention Rule 170...

(click to show/hide)

and finally, Rule 180...

(click to show/hide)

... don't you understand, you suppurating sack of quimbatter?

Under the circumstances, my asking "how much fucking road do you want?" was quite reasonable, seeing as I just had a fucking car miss me by a foot or so, you pustulent cumbarge. Ever heard of the fight or flight reaction, dipshit? An influx of adrenaline triggered by a dangerous situation - enabled by your vehicular douchebaggery in this instance - tends to have that effect on people.

At least your hearing works, though fuck knows what's processing the input.

Losing your shit, calling me a "mouthy cunt" and offering to "sort it out" round the corner, only served to underline that you are plainly unfit to hold a driving licence, need to refresh your knowledge of the Highway Code, and why so many people think BMW drivers are goat-felching fucknuggets who will be first up against the wall come the day they lead the tanks down Whitehall, you cock-juggling thundercunt.

spesh · « **Reply #18545 on:** 09 February, 2015, 07:38:30 pm »

Aaaaand breathe...

citoyen · « **Reply #18546 on:** 09 February, 2015, 07:43:40 pm »

Top rant, spesh.

Reminds me of when some fuckwit tried to kill me at Waterloo roundabout last year. For some reason, because I swore that made me the one in the wrong. Cunts, the lot of them.

spesh · « **Reply #18547 on:** 09 February, 2015, 07:59:16 pm »

Quote from: citoyen on 09 February, 2015, 07:43:40 pm

Top rant, spesh.

I must say, composing it was wonderfully cathartic.

Quote

Reminds me of when some fuckwit tried to kill me at Waterloo roundabout last year. For some reason, because I swore that made me the one in the wrong. Cunts, the lot of them.

Not that I want to test the theory personally, but I'm do sometimes wonder whether questioning someone's ancestry and/or sexual orientation would elicit quite such a visceral response.

Having one's standard of driving questioned is a piss-poor excuse for pressing the berserk button, IMHO.

LittleWheelsandBig · « **Reply #18548 on:** 09 February, 2015, 08:09:19 pm »

Just break the wing mirror off as they go by. That catches their attention.

Mrs Pingu · « **Reply #18549 on:** 09 February, 2015, 08:49:47 pm »

I too used up my weeks' or months' quota of swear words this morning on a twat in a mini bus who decided he would treat an angled side road as a slip road. The only reason he didn't run me over is cos I pulled out into the middle of the road.