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Petty Things That Get On Your Nerves...


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I'm not working, which means I have to go to Somerset and continue the slow erosion of my life spark and the deepening of the blackness in my soul.

It could be worse. You could have watched us for the last 4 games. :ph34r::(:angry:

Anyways, my PTTGOYN: Having a sore elbow from crashing into the boards at fives last night. It hurts when/if I lean on it.

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I bought a new car last week and there was a small fault with it,The battery light came on sometimes and stayed on.The garage came and picked it up and claim they fixed it,Guess what it has came on again twice today.

I am not paying £7000 for a car and that happening with the first few days of owning it.

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:angry:

Part of my job is chasing unpaid invoices. This means listening to people generally squirm and lie and tell some fascinating stories. On one such occasion I could barely conceal my laughter as a desperate accountant tried to bamboozle me with tales of how it's the law that only one person is allowed to sign all the company's cheques and that nominated person had been out of the office since 1991.

But today just took the fucking biscuit. It took the whole jar. In fact, it came in, sat at the klitchen table munching the contents of the jar and then changed the locks on my back door (fnar) so that I can't get back into my house while snacking on my garibaldis (fnar,sneck)

Here it is:

I called a customer in St. Helens to chase up an invoice, and it appears they have changed their telephone system to the dreaded automatic push button one. So, I'm settling in for an afternoon of Fonejacker 'you have selected a one bedroom maisonette in Chorley' style confusion, and what happens?

The automated voice starts talking. In a heavy African accent. :o In fucking St. Helens. In Merseyside!!!! :o

What kind of fucking muppet said:

"Yes, an automated message, that needs to be clear, I think we'll choose Ngumo for that one, she probably speaks a bit of English by now."

I know it's probably in their 'inclusion policy', but don't they want their customers and suppliers to interact with them properly?

I had to listen to the damned thing four times to have any idea what sort of button I was supposed to push, and then, finally, when I got through to an actual human?

She was French :death

I asked to be back to Ngumo. I haven't a clue what she was talking about, but at least she wasn't a cheese eating surrender monkey. :guns:saddam

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