Phew, so I'm now using O2 broadband. It was becoming incredibly frustrating being disconnected every ten minutes with my BT connection you see as typically it takes me 11 minutes to entertain myself manually.
I of course endured a torrid time trying to reduce my direct debit with BT as I knew I would. Trying to negotiate a path through the confusing multitude of automated menus to speak to an actual person is border line psychological torture.
The first number I tried was an automated line altogether. Automated, yet the bloody women still spent 30 seconds of my life explaining that calls may be recorded for training purposes! I will never get those 30 seconds back, who knows what I could have done with them.
I was stronger though, stronger than they ever gave me credit for and eventually after four attempts I was able to speak to Natasha whose North West accent was thicker than a tax credits application form.I hope never to have to speak to BT ever again ever. I coped once. It's questionable whether I'd survive a second ordeal. So anyway, it's O2 now. It appears to work fine. I was concerned initially that another customer services confrontation was on the cards when I read through the little booklet.
"If you are using a Mac," it said, "do not us the CD, just plug it all in and Mac's being so cool will just work. If however", it continued, "if you experience problems, please visit our website at www.o2.co.uk/help/broadband."
Yes, you see the source of my fear of impeding customer services conversational doom - how the fuck am I supposed to check that cock sucking website if I can't connect to the damn intrawebs!?? How how? This is the fucking installation process. Macs are great, but not that great.
More thought is all I'm asking from these people, more thought and more consideration, perhaps even a touch of logic once in a while. Too much to ask?
* * *
I happened to waste yet another 30 seconds of my life listening to Brian "the gimp" Paddick earlier. Dear lord what an appalling individual. A gayest ex-copper with political aspirations. I'd rather hand over control of the nation's capital to Herman Goering than have this bloke in charge.
Just imaging what sort of childhood he must have had, to choose such power hungry careers. I bet even the dinner ladies bullied him. If he doesn't spend his evening dressed head to toe in leather you can call me Susan.
Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against the Berties, my contention here is not that he snogs other men, but that high ranking coppers and politicians have historically tended to forgo their professional obligations and chosen instead to indulge in the most appalling episodes of sexual deviancy and claim said experiences back on expenses to boot.
I don't know why, I don't know what it is about those two professions that stimulate such wickedness, but can you imagine how much worse Brian Paddick's almost inevitable sex scandals will be given he is already a self confessed whoopsie with access to hand-cuffs, truncheons and various different uniforms?
This reminds me of when Robin van Persie was arrested in Amsterdam for rape. Amsterdam the most sexually liberal city in the world! Can you imagine what you must have to subject a young miss to in that city in order to get charged with a sex crime. It doesn't bare thinking about. I can only assume she's still undergoing counseling.
I concede I'm in danger of appearing to protest too much here, but I'll continue nonetheless, you see the thing about gaying that I never really understood was the anal sex thing. I'm assuming they all do this, but I also assume that they're not all sado-masochistic on Brian Paddicks level.
You see, no matter how much you love someone, if you're not genetically flawed to the degree that you enjoy pain being inflicted on you, how can you voluntarily accept something as fat and long as an erect knob up your poo pipe?
If I hark back to the few times when I've actually felt I was in love, I don't think my feelings have ever been so strong that I would have allowed any of these dear women to hurt me in the name of sexual intimacy. Rich oh how I love you so, would you mind awfully if I broke your little finger?
The batty is not an erogenous zone. It's designed to be a one way street, there can be no physical pleasure from having something stuffed up it. Oui? Perhaps I'm barking up the wrong tree, so to speak. Perhaps they just play chess and pull each other off. Weird though isn't it?
Just imaging what sort of childhood he must have had, to choose such power hungry careers. I bet even the dinner ladies bullied him. If he doesn't spend his evening dressed head to toe in leather you can call me Susan.Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against the Berties, my contention here is not that he snogs other men, but that high ranking coppers and politicians have historically tended to forgo their professional obligations and chosen instead to indulge in the most appalling episodes of sexual deviancy and claim said experiences back on expenses to boot.
I don't know why, I don't know what it is about those two professions that stimulate such wickedness, but can you imagine how much worse Brian Paddick's almost inevitable sex scandals will be given he is already a self confessed whoopsie with access to hand-cuffs, truncheons and various different uniforms?
This reminds me of when Robin van Persie was arrested in Amsterdam for rape. Amsterdam the most sexually liberal city in the world! Can you imagine what you must have to subject a young miss to in that city in order to get charged with a sex crime. It doesn't bare thinking about. I can only assume she's still undergoing counseling.
I concede I'm in danger of appearing to protest too much here, but I'll continue nonetheless, you see the thing about gaying that I never really understood was the anal sex thing. I'm assuming they all do this, but I also assume that they're not all sado-masochistic on Brian Paddicks level.
You see, no matter how much you love someone, if you're not genetically flawed to the degree that you enjoy pain being inflicted on you, how can you voluntarily accept something as fat and long as an erect knob up your poo pipe?
If I hark back to the few times when I've actually felt I was in love, I don't think my feelings have ever been so strong that I would have allowed any of these dear women to hurt me in the name of sexual intimacy. Rich oh how I love you so, would you mind awfully if I broke your little finger?
The batty is not an erogenous zone. It's designed to be a one way street, there can be no physical pleasure from having something stuffed up it. Oui? Perhaps I'm barking up the wrong tree, so to speak. Perhaps they just play chess and pull each other off. Weird though isn't it?
* * *
I feel this is as good a time as any to inform you that I'm currently enjoying a codeine- ibuprofin high. I'm really not responsible at this time for anything I may say or type. It's quite pleasant actually. I much prefer this sort of intoxication to those alcohol induced.
* * *
This may have been down to my prescription drug high too, but as I was watching the Daily Politics this afternoon I'm sure young Jenny Scott winked at me.
She was discussing micro-targeting voters, but interrupted herself, licked her lips and winked at me as I ate my cereal.
I think she did. If you watched it, perhaps you can let me know if you saw it too. I'm sure it was directed at me specifically. The saucy little cherub.
This may have been down to my prescription drug high too, but as I was watching the Daily Politics this afternoon I'm sure young Jenny Scott winked at me.She was discussing micro-targeting voters, but interrupted herself, licked her lips and winked at me as I ate my cereal.
I think she did. If you watched it, perhaps you can let me know if you saw it too. I'm sure it was directed at me specifically. The saucy little cherub.
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