Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They even cleaned over the headlamps so they could perform the headlamp aim tests. Saves me a job.
Bankers!
Yesterday, I was unlucky enough to have to visit the bank near where I work at Base 1, which is essentially next to the largest university campus in Europe (sounds impressive, but isn't). I made the mistake of mis-timing my trip to the "university branch" of my bank and I ended up not setting off from work until shortly before midday.
I had to fight my way through hoards of students who seemed to be loitering on the pavement as I made my way up the main road towards the bank. What were they doing, just standing around in their scruffy clothes, all young and happy and IN MY FUCKING WAY. Bastards.
Come on!! Get out of my fucking way, the queue at the bank will be huge by the time I get there. MOVE, you retarded tit. How can somebody so utterly brain dead be at university? You lot deserve to be in thousands of pounds of debt; they'd have laughed at your frigging application form in my day. You should've got a job at McDonald's when you were 18 because that's where you're going to end up when you're 21!
I got to the bank and, having broken through the lines of more mongoloid students as they stood around in front of the building, I found myself stuck behind another as they tried to work out why the door wouldn't open when they pushed or pulled it. "You need to press that button to release the security lock"... rattle, bang, bang... as they ignored me and continued their struggle. Eventually, somebody exited and we made our way in.
I was fourth in the queue of people awaiting attendance from the single cashier. It's 12.05pm, why is there only one position open?.... I stood patiently and listened to the nature of business of the young woman who was being dealt with:
"Hiya (cheerily)!!! Can I transfer £3 from this account into this one please?" The cashier set about the task with an air of super efficiency, "Anything else?"
"Yes, and £17 back from that one to this one too?" Tippy tappy, tap, tap. "Anything else that I can help you with?"
"Errm, yeah, can you just check the balance in this account?"
"Oh, and this one too please?"
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
"Anything else?"
"Could I withdraw £20 from this account please?"
For fuck's sake.
The cashier composed herself, smiled, "Next please".
The next man deposited a cheque and was gone, as quick as a flash.
"Next please."
"Hello, could you check the balance on this account please...."
....
....
"...Oh, sorry, I've given you the wrong card, it's errrm, hang on, this one!"
....
....
"...Oh no! Sorry!!! It's THIS card, sorry, yes this one. Or.... can I just have a look at that card you've got? Oh, errrm..."
Jesus fucking Christ Almighty! How many cards and bank accounts do these fucking people have? They're too stupid to have anything more complicated than a fucking piggy bank, how on earth have they managed to get more than one bank account??? For fuck's sake, you fucking nobheads, you've just been queuing up behind some other friggin' spaz for half an hour, couldn't you have used that time to sort out which fucking card you were using?
Gosh.
I'd hate to be a cashier.
Once I'd conducted my business, I had to endure the idiot in front of me trying to figure out what "Press to exit, push door when green light is lit" means.
He's not fat, he's "big-boned"
My lard-arse cat Sonny is asleep on the bed next to me here. Sonny is an extremely handsome, but very nervous ginger tom. He is quite high-maintenance. Here he is on a good day:
My, what sharp claws he has.
Sonny is very nervous, he tends to comfort eat. He comfort eats a lot. He comfort eats to such an extent that he has now put on so much weight that his fur doesn't fit him. His little orange coat is a bit stretched so that his fur is sticking up.
Fat pig.
How do you put a cat on a diet when it shares its home with three normal specimens? I might get him some speed.
Does:
neurotic cat + speed = good combination?
20 comments:
AH, UNO!!! That's ME!!!
You lost me at "I stood patiently" ... all a load of bollocks after that.
However, Sonny is quite the handsome portly gentlecat.
Kiss kiss.
Cheers?
Sonny is a complete mong, but I love him to bits.
I just closed out an account today. $78.50 Woo Hoo! that's why we closed the account, not using it enough. Don't those people have on-line banking? I love it. I can check balances & transfer to my hearts content all from the comfort of my office at home. :-)
Sonny looks so much like Albert, our FATCAT. I'll ssend you a picture. He's 25 pounds of twinkles toed kitty.
Does Sonny have a big motor boat? We can hear Bert purr from across the room with the tele on.
You serve them all diet cat food, whether they all need a diet or not. Sucks, huh?
I hate going anywhere on a University campus now that I'm an old fart (35). I mean, what old person can feel comfortable on their old stomping ground with the derisive looks of the prepubescents they've let in these days?
And I never go inside the bank anymore, preferring to do all my banking by machine or internet. Fuck the cashiers, the queues, and the pens that never fucking work but are still chained down to the goddamned counters.
It's bloody parents giving me cheques for things.
I can imagine Max being offered diet food: "I ain't eatin' no diet food, FOOL!"
I'll just get a photo of Sonny's stretch marks, hang on....
The odd thing about students is that about ten minutes after ceasing to be one you loathe then with every fibre of your being.
Apparently the Universities are having to offer remedial courses as the little mongs are inumerate, can't construct a sentence, and can't think for themselves. Fuckin' marvellous.
The top city firms will now only consider applications fron the top 25 Universities; i.e the original proper Universities.
Poor non-fat cats going on a Diet.
My cat is also...hefty. I took him to the vet on Saturday on an unrelated errand, and when I walked in, a woman ahead of me was apologizing profusely for the size of her tabby: "She weighs 13 POUNDS! I know, I know, I have her on diet food and we try to exercise her [HOW?], but she's still big...."
They promptly weighed my little beastie. He was 14 pounds. I made no apologies. He's very happy, after all.
Well, you could think of him as your 14 pound mountain lion, eh? That's what my vet calls Taz. "HER" 13 pound mountain lion. But then he's not overweight. Hmmm. It's amazing to me that just a pound or two of difference can mean life or death to a small animal like a cat. Or a dog.
I dread to think how much he weighs, but he'll shed a fair bit of it once he's not too scared to go outside and play when spring comes. He is literally scared of his own shadow, so he won't go outside if: leaves are falling from trees (late August to December); it is raining (we live in Manchester!); it is windy (we live in Britain!); it is dark (6 months of the year). He's OK between April and August.
There's no way I'm giving any of my cats diet food, especially since Max is a perfect weight and any weight loss might be dangerous for him. A diet would certainly make him extremely unhappy.
The thing about students is that we should still remember that about 5% of that age group, and so about 20% of the student population, probably have the academic ability to be there. It's just unfortunate that the other 80% of total and utter spazzes cloud the picture.
My little mountain lion. I like it. I'm sure he will as well.
Sonny is gorgeous Tina.
I once had a dog who had major anxiety problems and the vet put her on a low dose of Elavil*. It helped her a lot. I don't know if its recommended for cats or not.
*its a pretty old tricyclic antidepressant. There are better ones out there but Elavil is still used on animals a lot (probably because its cheap)
How did you compose yourself?
I'm always very composed on the outside, while on the inside I'm on the point of exploding.
Sonny is indeed gorgeous, but he's not nearly as gorgeous as Max. As for tablets, are you insane? There are 6 ends to a cat and 5 of them are very, very sharp.
I used to feel guilty about being an under achiever. Now I'm so glad I am one.
In my small village of Pantymonywm it can take 20 minuits to buy a loaf of bread, when your only second in the queue, because Mrs Jones is giving the shop keeper a blow by blow account or her second cousins hysterectomy.
Cats are for girls.
Funny that, steel worker.. I've never heard of that particular village.
However, in my street in Cardiff, Pantsarrwndiwrancylls, we just book a day off work if we need to buy anything from the local. Simple.
How can anybody say they're gay and not like cats? You're a disgrace.
I'm allergic to them.
And I might be gay, but at least I'm not a poof.
Now where did my pet rocket-propelled grenade launcher wander off to.....?
How very dare you!
My cats are much cuter. You'll see.
That's brilliant, that is. We see nothing of you for days, then you throw in a challenge on an old post!
Post a Comment