I ordered my BT (telephone to those not in the know) connection the week before we moved - that was the 20th of June. We moved in on the 27th of June, our telephone was connected on the 8th of July.
I ordered Sky satellite TV and broadband on the 20th of June. We couldn't get connected without a live BT phoneline, so the telly couldn't be installed until the 9th of July. Sky then have to tell BT that one of their customers wants broadband access, then BT twiddle their thumbs for a bit before deciding to activate it. Our estimated activation date is 17th July; about a month after ordering the service... if we're lucky.
And then the maximum speed we can get through our oh-so speedy BT phoneline is about 3.5mbps.
Fucking useless.
Why they get the monopoly on providing the broadband infrastructure is beyond me. And why don't Virgin lay some fucking cables? Tossers.
So, how is Bellend Towers? It's OK. Rocky has eaten the bottom of the kitchen door and half a door mat. Loosh the cat has started pulling the carpet on the upstairs landing and depositing her hair all over the place. We've settled in really well.
There are four of five boxes still to be unpacked, but we're getting there. We bought a lawnmower yesterday and our SECOND shower tidy (we can't seem to get them to hang properly).
So what's so good about where we are? Check this out...
Good eh?
I've kind of got used to living with Trump; it's nice, it makes me feel complete - I guess that's the idea. Despite being apart from her for a few days, there are a few advantages, mainly checking out all the weird shit that my parents buy in from all the dodgy shops they go to. I've just tried a tiny tin of squid in ink sauce. It was surprisingly nice.
I've just noticed a disturbing note from Connie - she wants me to tape something. Bollocks. I have no idea how to work a video recorder anymore.
11 comments:
yay... I'm first.
Very nice Sniffy, very nice indeed.
If you're free for the month of August do you want to house sit at my place? I've got a kitchen!
Unfortunately I don't have much leave to take until the end of September (they have a weird holiday year here). And i don't have any money to get over there. And they probably won't let me back in the country anyway.
We got your pressies, btw - pure excellence.
That's the kind of canal where corpses are found.
It'll be just like Midsomer Murders, with Rocky sniffing out wrongdoers.
I found some 'Gentleman's Relish' in my Grandfathers house when I was 12. It fucking honked.
That poor wee goat in the second pic...
Why does it look like it's tied to the trees?
I'm calling the RSPCA.
Oh and a message for Rocky and Loosh, if you'll be so kind to pass it on...
"Well done guys!"
And when we went back a few days later, there were three of them!
Apparently, Rocky hasn't eaten any of the post today, but he's moved it from where it lands into the living room. I wonder if he's going to progress to opening it and sorting out the junk, then paying the bills when they come in.
... or using them to wipe his arse with.
... or force-feeding them to the cat.
Perhaps, he's a very puzzling little dog.
I understand that the cat is currently being chased around the first floor of the house by the shit monster.
The Shit Monster?
Eh?
Or have I missed something? Do you mean Rocky? If not, then it must be Trumpy Arse.
Have you never seen a cat in the few minutes before it has a poo? They run around around as if possessed, squealing and thundering their feet. It's called being chased by the shit monster.
Erm... no.
Have you been swallowing analgesics again?
Of course I have! It's one of my few pleasures in life.
Seriously though, any real cat-lover will have observed this strange phenomenon. I was once herding Max Mousesniffer in at bedtime; I couldn't see him, but I could hear him thrashing about in the undergrowth, flying up trees, running around. Then silence, then the smell of Max poo, followed by the appearance of a very satisfied-looking cat with muddy paws.
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