Profile for zane:
Unoriginal, slow, and getting older.
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Unoriginal, slow, and getting older.
Recent front page messages:
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Best answers to questions:
» Toilets
Posiedon Adventure
My poor sister (who hopefully doesn't read b3ta, otherwise I'm dead) managed to enter the 'anals' of family history when on a return trip from Germany, she managed to get a dose of the squits in the ferry.
Cue horrible grunting, growling, whistling and exploding noises from a public ferry lav, with her screaming "Help me! For god's sake, help me!" Yup, she had it bad, the overflowing runs in the middle of the North Sea. This crying and calling out to God went on for about 10 minutes, until we pulled her, crying and sobbing from the bog.
And now, when anyone says to me "Ladies don't fart!" I give a technicolour and full audio rendition of the Poseidon Adventure
(Yeah, some shitty German ferry line makers had named the damn thing 'Poseidon'. Heh.)
(Sat 3rd Sep 2005, 15:27, More)
Posiedon Adventure
My poor sister (who hopefully doesn't read b3ta, otherwise I'm dead) managed to enter the 'anals' of family history when on a return trip from Germany, she managed to get a dose of the squits in the ferry.
Cue horrible grunting, growling, whistling and exploding noises from a public ferry lav, with her screaming "Help me! For god's sake, help me!" Yup, she had it bad, the overflowing runs in the middle of the North Sea. This crying and calling out to God went on for about 10 minutes, until we pulled her, crying and sobbing from the bog.
And now, when anyone says to me "Ladies don't fart!" I give a technicolour and full audio rendition of the Poseidon Adventure
(Yeah, some shitty German ferry line makers had named the damn thing 'Poseidon'. Heh.)
(Sat 3rd Sep 2005, 15:27, More)
» Scars with history
Childhood Toilet Trauma
When boys are little, we have have those step up things so they can go pee-pee in the grown ups toilet (poor families use the old Yellow Pages).
So, as a three-year-old, I stepped up, slipped, hit my chin on the porcelain and proceeded to bleed everywhere copiously until I was stitched.
Needless to say I tell people that I came off my bike and got this scar, rather than "I fell down the toilet."
(Tue 8th Feb 2005, 16:58, More)
Childhood Toilet Trauma
When boys are little, we have have those step up things so they can go pee-pee in the grown ups toilet (poor families use the old Yellow Pages).
So, as a three-year-old, I stepped up, slipped, hit my chin on the porcelain and proceeded to bleed everywhere copiously until I was stitched.
Needless to say I tell people that I came off my bike and got this scar, rather than "I fell down the toilet."
(Tue 8th Feb 2005, 16:58, More)
» Jobsworths
Barclays
Just had a largeish amount paid into my old Barclays Current Account, which I thought I'd closed ages ago (fairs fair - Halifax should have closed it as part of their transfer service.)
Anyway - this money is in an account with an old address (haven't been there for 6 months) and I haven't used that account for 3 years.
Will they help me? Only if I have photo ID. I don't drive, nor do I have a passport.
So - by phone - I manage to pass the security details, and they're all very helpful, and then they ask "Are you at the same address?" I laugh slightly, and tell them that was the problem, I've changed address and...
The fuckers terminated the call.
Well, finally I've sorted out a passport, gone into a branch, and accessed the money. Dozy-bright-eye assistant is obviously overwhelmed to help me when I say, "Of course, I'm actually looking to invest in a Savings Account!"
"Oh, we have a wide range, would you be interested."
"No," say I, and proceed to list all the fuckups and mistakes they made that made me transfer my account 3 years ago, and then add the petty mindedness they put me through for the past few weeks.
End of the conversation, and the assistant is twitching, the personal banker on the next desk is hiding, and the long queue of people behind me are very quiet.
*sigh*
Treat them with the contempt they deserve...
(Sun 15th May 2005, 11:24, More)
Barclays
Just had a largeish amount paid into my old Barclays Current Account, which I thought I'd closed ages ago (fairs fair - Halifax should have closed it as part of their transfer service.)
Anyway - this money is in an account with an old address (haven't been there for 6 months) and I haven't used that account for 3 years.
Will they help me? Only if I have photo ID. I don't drive, nor do I have a passport.
So - by phone - I manage to pass the security details, and they're all very helpful, and then they ask "Are you at the same address?" I laugh slightly, and tell them that was the problem, I've changed address and...
The fuckers terminated the call.
Well, finally I've sorted out a passport, gone into a branch, and accessed the money. Dozy-bright-eye assistant is obviously overwhelmed to help me when I say, "Of course, I'm actually looking to invest in a Savings Account!"
"Oh, we have a wide range, would you be interested."
"No," say I, and proceed to list all the fuckups and mistakes they made that made me transfer my account 3 years ago, and then add the petty mindedness they put me through for the past few weeks.
End of the conversation, and the assistant is twitching, the personal banker on the next desk is hiding, and the long queue of people behind me are very quiet.
*sigh*
Treat them with the contempt they deserve...
(Sun 15th May 2005, 11:24, More)
» Toilets
Musical Arse
Mastic's tale of director based toilet terror strikes a particular chord for me. Y'know, I don't pay my staff to shit in a work environment, I pay them to work in a shit environment.
Anyway... Nothing is more horrifying than going into the bogs an hour after lunch, and hearing people blow ear-ringing echoing farts in a kind of parody of language. The ones that sound like someone asking a question, then another person grunting a reply in an R2-D2 style.
(Mon 5th Sep 2005, 22:19, More)
Musical Arse
Mastic's tale of director based toilet terror strikes a particular chord for me. Y'know, I don't pay my staff to shit in a work environment, I pay them to work in a shit environment.
Anyway... Nothing is more horrifying than going into the bogs an hour after lunch, and hearing people blow ear-ringing echoing farts in a kind of parody of language. The ones that sound like someone asking a question, then another person grunting a reply in an R2-D2 style.
(Mon 5th Sep 2005, 22:19, More)