Jump to content

Petty Things That Get On Your Nerves...


Recommended Posts

I now have to get a 9.4kg holdall across to Belfast. I rang Parcelforce but they said as it was over one and a half foot long it was too big for them to handle. I'm trying to get TNT to courier it but, as we don't have an account with them ourselves, I'm having to negotiate with our new Customs chums who do.

And how do I know it's 9.4kg? Because I had to lug the fecker from the office down to the check-in hall and weigh it their baggage scales before lugging it all the way back again! :angry:<_<:(

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Old people.

It's time they were culled.

Standing in the queue for the till in Tesco at lunchtime and suddenly Methusela in front decides that she'll pay for her People's Friend, tattie scones, oatcakes and tin of prunes with her debit card.

Puts card in, types number. Doesn't work.

Takes card out, repeats. Nothing.

Puts card in THE RIGHT FUCKING WAY UP and repeats. Still no go, the bank of Fort Knox is closed to you, grandma! <_<

Then she looks at me, gets a worried look on her face due to my look of sheer scorn and fury and gets all flustered, leading to a repeat of steps 1 and 2 again.

At this point I'm starting to consider grabbing her by the lapels of her old persons coat and screaming in her face, but I have a chubby bottom and I hear that's quite popular in the Killie Hilton, so discretion got the better of valour on this occasion.

Back goes the poor debit card, that's been in and out the scanner more often than Jade Goody in a headscarf by now.

Finally she has her 'Eureka!' moment and asks the checkout operator (who isn't as annoyed as me because she's a mouth breather and has to concentrate hard to stop pools of dribble falling onto customers groceries from her gaping pie-hole):

"Do I have to put the right number in? I don't know what it is..."

Now, this is the point where I like to take a step back and breathe deeply in order to calm down. Anger leads to hate and hate leads to brutally stamping on geriatrics heads, so I turned away from the till and counted to ten, only to realise that I'd been clenching my fist all throughout and now the fucking Mother's Pride I was buying wouldn't have made Shannon Matthews mother proud so twisted into the shape of a bow-tie was it....

Now, the crowning glory, the shiny wet turd on the top of the fairy cake - she only whips a tenner out of her tartan bag and says:

"Just have to be cash then!"

Why didn't she just hand the tenner over in the first fucking place if she knows she can't remember her PIN? Or has she maybe forgotten that she can't remember it?

If there is some sort of higher power in the world, why is that power sending armies of decrepit ageing zombies with terrible coats and brain-fry to haunt me? What did I do?

I'm fucked off. :angry:

Link to comment
Share on other sites

1) when you have sat through a cup-tie including extra-time and the penalty shoot-out is about to start and you have a power cut AAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH this happened to me last night with the Arsenal game.

2) when people waiting for the bus don't have their fare or pass to hand and spend ages looking for it after the board the bus. F**kwits

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Old people....

You had me there. Now I need to fight these old buggers for a seat on the bus and as I've been working for a living and pay for my seat, like a good citizen, I'm expected to give them MY seat when they can walk round the shops all afternoon.

f**k that!! :angry:

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Old people.

It's time they were culled.

Standing in the queue for the till in Tesco at lunchtime and suddenly Methusela in front decides that she'll pay for her People's Friend, tattie scones, oatcakes and tin of prunes with her debit card.

Puts card in, types number. Doesn't work.

Takes card out, repeats. Nothing.

Puts card in THE RIGHT FUCKING WAY UP and repeats. Still no go, the bank of Fort Knox is closed to you, grandma! <_<

Then she looks at me, gets a worried look on her face due to my look of sheer scorn and fury and gets all flustered, leading to a repeat of steps 1 and 2 again.

At this point I'm starting to consider grabbing her by the lapels of her old persons coat and screaming in her face, but I have a chubby bottom and I hear that's quite popular in the Killie Hilton, so discretion got the better of valour on this occasion.

Back goes the poor debit card, that's been in and out the scanner more often than Jade Goody in a headscarf by now.

Finally she has her 'Eureka!' moment and asks the checkout operator (who isn't as annoyed as me because she's a mouth breather and has to concentrate hard to stop pools of dribble falling onto customers groceries from her gaping pie-hole):

"Do I have to put the right number in? I don't know what it is..."

Now, this is the point where I like to take a step back and breathe deeply in order to calm down. Anger leads to hate and hate leads to brutally stamping on geriatrics heads, so I turned away from the till and counted to ten, only to realise that I'd been clenching my fist all throughout and now the fucking Mother's Pride I was buying wouldn't have made Shannon Matthews mother proud so twisted into the shape of a bow-tie was it....

Now, the crowning glory, the shiny wet turd on the top of the fairy cake - she only whips a tenner out of her tartan bag and says:

"Just have to be cash then!"

Why didn't she just hand the tenner over in the first fucking place if she knows she can't remember her PIN? Or has she maybe forgotten that she can't remember it?

If there is some sort of higher power in the world, why is that power sending armies of decrepit ageing zombies with terrible coats and brain-fry to haunt me? What did I do?

I'm fucked off. :angry:

:lol:

Well, that's the supposed peace and quiet in this library gone to ruin.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest The Phoenix

Some daft bint, in an 02 plated Corsa, was directly in front of me on the way home tonight (after another shitty day in the office).

I was mildly irritated by the presence of a sign in her rear window announcing "IM2CUTE4U".

As we approached a two lane roundabout my irritation turned to intrigue and I sidled alongside to gain the best possible vantage point to observe her acclaimed beauty.

I'm not sure whether to contact the folk at Trades Description or the Police given that I'm fairly certain that there is a better than even chance I've located Shergar. :angry:

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest The Phoenix
:o

You can bum him all you like, I was just going to help his acne.

Weirdo.

Piles is simply the bottom end of the market for acne.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

Loading...
  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.
×
×
  • Create New...