Professional Northerners.
Because they are fucking cunts.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 28 May 2010, 10:24, 32 replies)

Doctor's receptionists
Been referred-to already as thin-lipped, lemon-sucking, gossiping witches (I may have embellished), but I am strongly inclined to agree.

What is it about doctor's receptionists that they think I want to discuss and divulge my medical history with them, rather than a doctor or nurse? As far as I'm concerned, they're there to book appointments, and fuck-all else.

Recent examples;

- I phoned the surgery to get the results of my 2 year-old daughter's blood test, to see if she has cancer. I had to take the news from the fucking receptionist, even though I asked to speak to my GP. Thankfully the results were negative, but she couldn't - obviously - explain what the results did mean, and I eventually received a call back from my GP to discuss. Bitch.

- When my wife was pregnant, she needed an appointment for a foo-foo related matter. The bitch on reception wanted my wife to discuss in great detail, precisely what the matter was. I explained that I'd rather discuss it with a triage nurse and would she kindly crack on with making the tea.

- I had to phone the surgery for my recent post-snip wankathon results, to be told my results by the fucking tea-lady.

When did answering the phones, filing and making the tea qualify overweight gossip-mongerers to make medical diagnoses?
(Tighthead, Fri 28 May 2010, 9:55, 15 replies)

I once had sex
with a real girl
(likeajackhammer, Fri 28 May 2010, 9:48, 7 replies)

Prosititues...
...what do they do to make money? Fuck all.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Fri 28 May 2010, 9:33, 4 replies)

Gym staff who have no concept whatsoever of a healthy lifestyle
Fitness Worst, Purley. A gym that is never without at least two greasy fat chavs at reception, for there is surely no better advert for a sports emporium. A gym that tries to get you to divulge your mates' details so they can hassle them to join as well, by offering you the incentive of...free pizza.

Combine this with the tropical rainforest of advertising billboards hung from the ceiling at more or less exactly head height, which has previously resulted in one of them coming loose, striking a customer on the head and almost taking his eye out, and you have the motherlode of fitness for the bleating masses with an anaphylactic allergy to reading small print.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Fri 28 May 2010, 9:27, 1 reply)

Belated advice...
...looking at many of the answers here, the best advice I have ever heard is: read the title of the QOTW to see if hasn't changed.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Fri 28 May 2010, 9:13, 2 replies)

Resellers
Want to buy an internet connection or phone line?

Well buy it through us and we will make it next to impossible to get answer to any of your questions in under a week.

What's that? you have a fault? well good luck with that, I will pass on about 30% of your message to the people we buy it from, who will pass on about 5% of that to BT, who will turn round and tell everyone to turn things off and on again and hope that you will lose the will to live rather than thinking about complaining again.
( chuff monkey I AM him, Fri 28 May 2010, 7:52, 1 reply)

Consultant....
- Someone who asks to look at your watch, and then tells you the time...
(smirker neverletmetellyabouttheraggamuffinbiznessandting!, Fri 28 May 2010, 7:17, Reply)

Lawyers / Barristers / Solicitors
Anyone who tries to get someone acquitted of a crime they know they committed. I'm sorry, but if you KNOW they did it, then don't be a smarmy, self-important, "its a game really" nonce-bucket; have some morals - admit their guilt and get the best deal for them, just don't try and get them off scot-free.
(SausageWarrior destination Zululand, come on boys jump in the van, Fri 28 May 2010, 7:14, 12 replies)

Irishmen.
Not all of them obviously. Just the ones who pair up with an Englishman and a Scotsman and bother me when I'm trying to serve drinks.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 28 May 2010, 3:43, 2 replies)

People in charge of recruiting lecturers for the small business course I recently finished.
Specifically, whoever got the guy in to teach us setting up business structures to protect our assets.

Who started by telling us about his undischarged bankruptcy.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 28 May 2010, 3:37, 2 replies)

Surf Instructors
The job title is deceiving. They are all tosspots.
( bland is bland, Fri 28 May 2010, 2:48, 3 replies)

Any profession with an automated 'customer care' line.
These things always have people on the other end that have very strong non-english accents when I need a bit of customer support, yet i'm expected to understand them when it sounds as if they have their headset on the back of their head.
However as soon as I forget to pay something then I get phoned by the person with the crystal clear british accent of someone that went to the same finishing school as Mary Poppins.

My Bill is outstanding is it??
Why thank you very much. - someone I can't remember.
(Mensa Reject has gone out, I'll be back on, Fri 28 May 2010, 2:12, Reply)

Whoever is responsible
for deciding on the names of websites, and decides to have the word 'online' or 'site' in it.

"WHA...? How did this information get inside my computer? I didn't write it! I can't handle this. I think I'll take my own life...oh, hang on, it's a website."
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 28 May 2010, 2:11, Reply)

Quantum mechanics.
I'm never sure whether they're open or not.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 28 May 2010, 2:08, 1 reply)

brand managers in the Scotch whisky industry
only people with asbestos arses can get these jobs because their pants are on fire all the time ... have you seen the website for Glenmorangie lately? it has a flavour kaleidoscope that implies that the whisky (but it doesn't say *which* fucking version of Glenmo) is simultaneously comforting & silky, soft & sensuous, luscious & tropical, refreshing & cooling, stimulating & zesty, mellow & mature, warming & vibrant and velvety & sumptuous ... so that makes it taste of my girlfriend's pants, her rude bits, coconut shampoo, Airwaves gum, grapefruit, saddle leather, alcohol and a purple cushion all at the same time
... amazing what grain alcohol can taste like when left in a bin made from planks for a few years ...

and does anyone talk about imported east European barley, centralised, industrial malting, or artifically adjusted peat content? no they fucking don't ... it still tastes good, but the bullshit in this business runs higher than the grain silos ...
( writerblock ... embedding disabled by request on, Fri 28 May 2010, 2:00, 4 replies)

Modernist poets
with their snatches of Italian and borrowings from Ezra Pound ... tossers
( writerblock ... embedding disabled by request on, Fri 28 May 2010, 1:40, Reply)

Professions of a Window Cleaner
all that seaside postcard, nudge-nudge, wink-wink stuff just isn't sexy

also Professions of a Driving Instructor, even though it had the mum from the Oxo family in it
( writerblock ... embedding disabled by request on, Fri 28 May 2010, 1:33, 6 replies)

pub managers
there must be a distinction here, people who serve beer are god given angels. people who manage them are scum.

The profession of serving a beer pretty much requires a decent chest and a half decent face, and depending on the price of the booze, the face doesnt have to be that great.

however the generally fat twats who stand behind them, issuing orders like its their little regiment of the SS, do my nut in.

they stand there, looking all powerful, demanding that glasses get collected or that the floor isnt mopped enough. twats. so full of their own self importance, they forget customers are there watching half the time. Working for them is even worse.

and the fuckers get to have a bit of the barmaid half the time, which the girls do in the vain hope of a promotion. poor girls.
(badshrek is green and smells of cabbage, Fri 28 May 2010, 1:09, 10 replies)

Medical practitioners of all kinds.
'Alternative' medicine: I know you genuinally believe it, but that's not sufficient excuse for a grownup.

Actual doctors: With some noble exceptions, entitled arseholes.

Also a large number of doctors apparently refer patients to alternative practitioners, which I suspect they do to get rid of the annoying ones.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 28 May 2010, 0:52, 1 reply)

Solicitors who can't spell or proofread
By and large, I've not had many problems with solictors. True, the conveyancing solictors who helped with my house purchase were a bit slow yet expected me to move at the speed of light, but mostly they've done what they said.

However, for a profession that's supposedly based on fine detail and careful consideration of the facts, there really is no excuse for particularly obvious spelling mistakes and forgetting that the VAT rate went back up in January. If I'm spending hundreds of pounds on someone that's basically doing sophisticated form filling, I do expect my letters to be spelt correctly.
(EssY, Fri 28 May 2010, 0:22, 8 replies)

Anyone that upsells (especially British Gas and Talktalk), and fucking cold callers who lie about who they are
1) 'Hello Mr Essy, we see you're coming to the end of your first year of gas service at *high value* and want to offer you at *lower value* instead, including water supply maintenance for free'
'That's higher than the value without the water supply maintenance, isn't it?'
'..maybe'.

Repeat by post, mobile phone, home telephone and every time I contact them for other purposes (like fixing the boiler). Just fuck off, thanks..

Talktalk, for having the gall to charge for paper based statements then stuff my letterbox with offers for their shitty broadband and call packages I don't want.

2) You get precisely one (1) opportunity to sell to me, or at work before I become unsympathetic. Cold calling must be a horrid job, but if you're going to lie about who you are (especially recruitment consultants and advertising salesmen) I won't be impressed. Be honest and you'll either get a polite refusal or passed on to someone. I remember your company name, and your voice on subsequent calls - don't take the piss.
(EssY, Fri 28 May 2010, 0:18, 8 replies)

Dentists
For several of the obvious reasons, but another specific reason that affects few people.

You know when you have to have a filling/extraction or anything where they have to use their tools of torture in your mouth and they always put that little cylinder of wadded cotton and wool in between your cheek and gum??

I'm petrified of them, not only in the gritting wool between the teeth sort of thing, but the same way my mum is with spiders.
The last time I went to the dentist they were aware of how much those things put the shits up me and were told NOT to use them, so what did they go and fucking do but put the horrible things in my mouth.

Apparently the best way to cure a panic attack whilst in a dentists chair is to lay me right back and turn the air-con on nice and cold.

I think the best way would've been for the fucking dentist to have not used the thing in the first and not try to stop my hands moving to my mouth when he put the fucker in there.

That was over 4 years ago when I needed an extraction for a snapped tooth and 2 fillings. I never had it done and since then the thought of that has stopped me having my gnashers fixed, and how I'd love to eat a dime bar again.
(Mensa Reject has gone out, I'll be back on, Thu 27 May 2010, 23:22, 4 replies)

'Soap Experts'
I was a rubbish student. In my three years at St Foljambe De Fwar-Fwar's Metropolitan City University Academy of Excellence (formerly Bumhole Poly), I struggled to live up to the most basic of stereotypes. Not for me the surfeit of casual sex, the stealing of traffic-lights and the waking up in a kebab. Housemates would gasp in disbelief at my habit of including vegetables in meals and everything. I was well shit.

I did, however, manage to find time for the regulation gawping at daytime TV. Yes, I saw Chris Morris' welcome invasion of pretend-current-affairs-pishfest The Time The Place. I was there when indie outsiders Pulp mimed their legendary crossover performance of Common People on This Morning. And, once a week, I would swear like a fucking trooper with his balls caught on salt-n-vinegar barbed-wire when that same show gave airtime to their cunting 'Soap Expert'.

She was called Tina Baker, she looked like a rocking-horse's anus and her job description probably included the phrase 'wry, sideways glance at the week's soaps'. Once a week she'd sit in her bloody chair, pulling her bloody face while she made her bloody remarks about the comings and goings in Albert Square, Ramsay Street and wherever it is Coronation Street's set. And it got right on my wick.

What grated for me was the sheer pointlessness of it all. Her job was to talk about what had happened on TV, show a clip, make what she thought was an achingly clever quip, then struggle to contain a look of self-satisfaction akin to a cat who’s just shat a perfect ampersand. Worst of all, she only had one ‘joke’; Refer to two typically calamitous tragedies to befall a soap character, then add a light-hearted third one. i.e. “It’s been a bad week for Phil Mitchell. His dog died, his garage burnt down, and just WHAT was he thinking wearing that shirt?!” “Poor Cindy. First she’s diagnosed with a terminal illness, then she gets shot in the face, and worst of all, Ian Beale turns up and blah fucking blah”.

I have no idea if she’s still peddling her sorry act today. I suspect though that, considering people willingly pay actual money for the likes of Heat magazine in return for in-depth investigations into whether a Big Brother 5 runner-up’s cousin prefers scones or hammers, she’s probably about to be revealed as the new messiah.

(Crikey, imagine having to be a messiah. Your mate betrays you, you get nailed to a cross, and just LOOK at the state of those sandals!!!!LOL!!!111!!)
(costas, Thu 27 May 2010, 23:13, 12 replies)

Consultants
Useless wankers who A: couldn't keep a job and B: give companies overpriced advice that either reinforces what's done anyway, or is buried because the company ignores stuff which doesn't reinforce what they already do.
Also, the very act of hiring a consultant is an admission that the company's CEO isn't up to the task of running their own fucking company.
(tuqueboy has been in a medically -induced coma since, Thu 27 May 2010, 23:07, 2 replies)

The Ebuyer IT department
Or whoever it is who WON'T STOP THE EMAILS.
(meat2veg hello!, Thu 27 May 2010, 23:03, Reply)

Every single person who works at First Capital Connect
I'm sure out of their uniform they are lovely people. But I do wonder if the management are keeping their families hostage while they work their shift. Threatening to cut off one of their children's fingers if they accidentally help someone with their journey.

Can't be easy working for such complete cunts though.
( sepang 's favourite day is, Thu 27 May 2010, 22:47, Reply)

People who piss around on the internet all day instead of doing any work, then try to blame others for their own inefficiency.
Especially if they get caught out, and subsequently whine about getting disciplined for wasting company time.
( The Mock TurtIe ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Thu 27 May 2010, 22:18, 1 reply)

Parents who do not
Parents think it's acceptable not to discipline their children, as "that's what school is for". No it's not. You had them, you care for them or I will shout at them for kicking me in the supermarket/playing chicken/throwing stones at my car...

Parents who expect the school to sort out all the health problems the child has, including nits and tapeworms... (My aunt's a school nurse. Some of the stories she comes out with are terrifying.)

Parents who think it's acceptable to encourage their children to smoke and drink by buying them cigarettes and buckfast to take out to the local carpark with their mates, and then think nothing of their darlings coming home in the back of a police car or taken to hospital with alcohol poisoning.

Fair play to the parents who allow supervised drinking in their house and clear up after their children, but they are few and far between.

Parents who, during school holidays, kick the 7, 8 or 9 year old out first thing, without a key, and don't expect to see them again till later at night and then the mother spends most of the evening standing on the doorstep screaming their child's name, while the child is down the road in a friend's house playing the Xbox/WII/Playstation after having been fed lunch and tea. (By aforementioned pleasant parents.)

I live near Edinburgh and this has all happened within the last 6 months...
(WeeJen, Thu 27 May 2010, 22:14, 7 replies)