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Petty Things That Get On Your Nerves...


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When people spell "Dominos" (as in the pizza outlet) as "Dominoes". What even are you?

Speaking of which, the pub I drink in is the closest to a dominos. On Friday a delivery driver came in with three XL pizzas, I thought the bar staff had ordered food. No, they had made an arse of the order. Free pizza all round!

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Page 3 for this!

Pie and Bovril is a happy place this weather!

Anyway, being on it all weekend seems to totally f**k my sleeping pattern up.

I need to be up at 8 tomorrow and its not 2am and I'm wide awake. Same last night. It's not usually till Wednesday night it returns to normal then by Friday it all breaks down again. <_<

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Been up most of the night shitting rusty water. And my burps smell like farts. Not a good sign i would say.

Shouldn't have been tossing all that salad.

I know everyone has to do this every morning during the winter so this is gonna seem pretty weak but I fucking despise having to scrape the ice off my car. When its 6:30 in the morning and freezing the last thing I want to do is stoat about my motor scraping ice off of the windows. Fucking hate it.

Edited by 11thHour
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I recently realised that one of the rooms in my house did not have an HD television. Since I do not wish to be in an inferior consumer position to a blawhard that earns £8.50 an hour so has to lie about owning a villa in Florida I decided to rectify this immediately.

Therefore I took a trip this a.m. to a local Argos store. Having successfully negotiated the gaggle of awkward, spotty, grunting teen boys in the doorway, shuffling the garish plastic tips of their Brantano faux-leather shoes and sullenly smoking, shivering in their cheap Argos fleeces and looking entirely unemployable, I entered the delightfully decorated store.

Queueing to pay for my chosen television with my wad of notes in one hand, my hat at a jaunty angle and my luscious lips whistling a cheery Christmas tune I was confronted by what can only be described as a walking Vacant sign in a skirt and an Argos polo shirt. She exceeded my initial expectations by being able to press two buttons in the correct order with the minimum amount of drool escaping from her Greggs sausage roll flecked lips, thereby bringing to the screen my previously reserved tv.

It was at this point my sunny mood was forcibly darkened somewhat.

Mandy Middle-Distance Gaze said:

"Can ah take yer details?"

Usually I would be only too happy to sign up to the marketing advances of such a salubrious store as Argos, but the thought of this pile of amoebic sludge with bones attempting to spell my surname before the onset of the next Ice Age led me to attempt a sidestep.

"Why?" I asked, with as cheery an air as a man who is about to add to his material posessions (and therefore his soulful bliss and karmic contentment!) can possibly be expected to emanate.

"It's coz if ye huvnae got a tv licence we cunny sell ye the telly."

Really? REALLY? We actually live in a society where a retail business takes a check on your legality before it accepts your dosh! Of course at first I assumed Nicola Numpty had got it wrong, much like her parents lack of contraception, so I followed up with:

"Erm...isn't that the Government's job? To check on my tv licence?"

The seconds passed like hours as Gail the Gowk tried to formulate a response in her head as the brain cell that was busy thinking about the X-factor tried to click on a link to open a new window. Anyway, as the brain cell was clearly using an outdated AMD processor that was overheating and I was beginning to feel a rage akin to standing on an upturned plug in my socks I swiftly made an exit, booted a bollard outside, phoned a pal for a rant, then tweeted some 'advice' to Little Lord Fauntleroy of Downing Street on Twitter.

What is this, 1984? Why the twatty b*****ding f**k is Argos checking our backgrounds? Very dangerous precedent indeed.

By the way cuntos, I wasn't really wearing a hat.

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I recently realised that one of the rooms in my house did not have an HD television. Since I do not wish to be in an inferior consumer position to a blawhard that earns £8.50 an hour so has to lie about owning a villa in Florida I decided to rectify this immediately.

Therefore I took a trip this a.m. to a local Argos store. Having successfully negotiated the gaggle of awkward, spotty, grunting teen boys in the doorway, shuffling the garish plastic tips of their Brantano faux-leather shoes and sullenly smoking, shivering in their cheap Argos fleeces and looking entirely unemployable, I entered the delightfully decorated store.

Queueing to pay for my chosen television with my wad of notes in one hand, my hat at a jaunty angle and my luscious lips whistling a cheery Christmas tune I was confronted by what can only be described as a walking Vacant sign in a skirt and an Argos polo shirt. She exceeded my initial expectations by being able to press two buttons in the correct order with the minimum amount of drool escaping from her Greggs sausage roll flecked lips, thereby bringing to the screen my previously reserved tv.

It was at this point my sunny mood was forcibly darkened somewhat.

Mandy Middle-Distance Gaze said:

"Can ah take yer details?"

Usually I would be only too happy to sign up to the marketing advances of such a salubrious store as Argos, but the thought of this pile of amoebic sludge with bones attempting to spell my surname before the onset of the next Ice Age led me to attempt a sidestep.

"Why?" I asked, with as cheery an air as a man who is about to add to his material posessions (and therefore his soulful bliss and karmic contentment!) can possibly be expected to emanate.

"It's coz if ye huvnae got a tv licence we cunny sell ye the telly."

Really? REALLY? We actually live in a society where a retail business takes a check on your legality before it accepts your dosh! Of course at first I assumed Nicola Numpty had got it wrong, much like her parents lack of contraception, so I followed up with:

"Erm...isn't that the Government's job? To check on my tv licence?"

The seconds passed like hours as Gail the Gowk tried to formulate a response in her head as the brain cell that was busy thinking about the X-factor tried to click on a link to open a new window. Anyway, as the brain cell was clearly using an outdated AMD processor that was overheating and I was beginning to feel a rage akin to standing on an upturned plug in my socks I swiftly made an exit, booted a bollard outside, phoned a pal for a rant, then tweeted some 'advice' to Little Lord Fauntleroy of Downing Street on Twitter.

What is this, 1984? Why the twatty b*****ding f**k is Argos checking our backgrounds? Very dangerous precedent indeed.

By the way cuntos, I wasn't really wearing a hat.

tl;dr

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"It's coz if ye huvnae got a tv licence we cunny sell ye the telly."

Really? REALLY? We actually live in a society where a retail business takes a check on your legality before it accepts your dosh!

That can't be right? I mean I don't have a tv license as I don't have a freeview box or sky, and so have no way of actually watching live tv in my house, but I still have a tv which I use for my Wii.

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That can't be right? I mean I don't have a tv license as I don't have a freeview box or sky, and so have no way of actually watching live tv in my house, but I still have a tv which I use for my Wii.

My dad bought a new TV from Comet last month and wasn't asked any of that.

Sounds like a porky so they can flog your details on to one of these cunting cold calling mobs.

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That can't be right? I mean I don't have a tv license as I don't have a freeview box or sky, and so have no way of actually watching live tv in my house, but I still have a tv which I use for my Wii.

Well, quite.

What if the tv had been a gift for someone else and I didn't own a tv, therefore didn't have or require a licence?

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That can't be right? I mean I don't have a tv license as I don't have a freeview box or sky, and so have no way of actually watching live tv in my house, but I still have a tv which I use for my Wii.

Do you not have to pay a radio license as well? Do you have a wireless?

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My dad bought a new TV from Comet last month and wasn't asked any of that.

Sounds like a porky so they can flog your details on to one of these cunting cold calling mobs.

Well, quite.

What if the tv had been a gift for someone else and I didn't own a tv, therefore didn't have or require a licence?

Indeed. Sounds like liiieeeessss!!

Do you not have to pay a radio license as well? Do you have a wireless?

Not in my house! I have an internet, which does for all my delayed transmission communication needs. I do have a car radio I guess...

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Indeed. Sounds like liiieeeessss!!

It's not. Last time I bought a TV the same thing happened with Tesco. They don't check if you have a license (obviously). They just pass on your details to the TV Licensing authorities. Of course you could give them a fake address.

Under the Wireless Telegraphy Act of 1967 (as amended), you need to provide us the specified details for each sale or rental within 28 days of the transaction. This includes new or second-hand TVs, DVD/Video recorders, digital boxes, TV enabled computers and PCs with broadcast TV cards. Failure to inform us can result in a fine of up to £1,000 per offence.

You need to register with us as a TV dealer to do this.

TV Licensing will only use the information you give us to check that anyone buying TV receiving equipment holds a valid licence for their address. We will not disclose it to any other third parties without obtaining prior consent unless we are required or permitted to do so by law.

http://www.tvlicensing.co.uk/check-if-you-need-one/business-and-organisations/tv-dealers-aud18/

Not in my house! I have an internet, which does for all my delayed transmission communication needs. I do have a car radio I guess...

The TV Licensing threat letter deals with that. If you have the internet (even through a mobile phone) they regard you as having a device capable of TV watching and want money from you.

Edited by H_B
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