» Twattery

I'd only had it a week
Finally plucked up the courage to get my own car last month. I do a lot of driving so wanted something comfortable but small enough that I don't need more mirrors than the Hubble space telescope to park it.
So my new vehicle of choice is a Citroen C3.

As the title suggests I'd had it a week, was driving to my sisters new house, with the dog staring intently at other drivers and some good music on the radio. All is good with the world. Then we hit a bit of traffic (not entirely unusual in Birmingham), however not I have had the bad luck to be slowing down opposite a T junction (traffic is still moving at this point) and the guy at this junction clearly thinks he can just pull out. Which he does. Into me.

Dog damn near shits herself, I need a new change of pants. Adrenaline takes over and I jump out to see the damage ( rear drivers side passenger door well and truly dented) and to confront the cockend that hit me. I was less than lady-like - I called him every name I could think of.

As far as I was concerned he was a twat for hitting me (the dog is still a bit skittish getting in the car), but what topped it for me was his response:

"I'll admit full liability if you admit to swearing at me."
(Sat 14th Apr 2012, 14:20, More)

» Random Acts of Kindness

Vanishing Cash
A couple of years ago I had gone on a girls holiday to Turkey, the day before I was due to come home I had asked my parents if they could get me some basics (milk, bread etc) for me so I had something to eat and drink as my flight was getting in stupidly early and I didn't fancy schlepping around Morrisons on cronic jet lag.

Plane landed at 2:30am, called parents to let them know I had made it home and they let me know they had forgotten to get my things. Fucksocks - but such is life.

Got home and died in bed for a few hours, setting my alarm for 8 so I could hopefully get to Morrisons before anyone else. So at the alloted time I ventured out, looking and feeling like a bag of shite.

Still half asleep I realised, once I got to Morrisons, that they don't generally accept Lira for stuff, so went to the cash point and withdrew £150. Enough for food now and beer later I reasoned as I stuffed said cash in my jacked pocket.

1 basket of crap later I am at the checkout, I put hand in pocket to take out the cash... It's not there. In a somewhat mild panic I frisk my self and look around my immediate area. Nothing. Nada. Mega Fucksocks.

In a state of confusion I grab the first employee I see and gabble out my tale, begging him for help - I had no more money on my card, and needed the food or I'd starve and I had just come back off holiday.

So he helped me retrace my steps, saying he highly doubted anyone coming across a wedge of cash would simply hand it over. More likely I could kiss it goodbye. A full asile-by-asile search yeilded less than nothing and I was really worried now, so my helper suggested asking at customer services whilst he went and got the manager.

I asked customer service guy if anyone had handed in any money, and to my ever lasting surprise he said they had. I think I actually wooped at this point. My joy was cut short by the following conversation, however:
Me: Oh fantastic, thank you soooo much!
CSG: No problem, just tell me how much money you lost.
Me: £150
CSG: And what notes were those?
Me: Huh?
CSG: I can't give the money to you unless you can tell me what notes makes up the £150 you lost.
Me: But I got it out of the ATM outside your store!
CSG: Sorry, but that's the rules
Me: Well, then it must be 7 £20's and a £10
CSG: Sorry that's not right. It was 5 £20's and 5 £10's

I just stared at this fucker, and wonder if I have wondered onto a game show rather than a food store. He was either the best bluffer known to man or an utter cunt, and I know which I was thinking at this point.

Me:But, but it's £150, I lost it in the store. Someone has handed it in, what are the odds I would randomly ask you for that sum of money?
CSG: Sorry, rules are rules.

The floor manager had come over at this time, and asked what was going on. I tell him what has just been told to me, and blessedly the manager tells our customer service guy the following:

"You had £150 handed in, this yonng lady has lost £150. Stop being a dick and give her the money."

Living in Birmingham, I don't expect anything from anyone and this wonderful act of kindness which allowed me to eat and get happily pissed with my mates later than evening.

The person who had handed in the money hadn't left any details, which is a shame because a big bottle of decent wine and a thank-you card would have been forthcoming.
(Thu 9th Feb 2012, 17:30, More)

» Random Acts of Evil

In my previous life as a nurse
I often got sent to call in patients for the clinicians - they would thrust a file into my unsuspecting hands and tell me to get the patient in. Such beauties included:-

- Mrs Fuchs (pronounced fucks)
- Joe King
- Dan Tsing
- Justina Case
And my personal favourite:-
- Mr Paul Mycoch (the "ch" pronunced as a "k" - not that I needed to tell you this)

I wouldn't twig until I had either got to the waiting room or was calling them - don't know who's the bigger bastard the parents for naming their children this or the clinicians for making me call them!!
(Wed 22nd Feb 2012, 18:19, More)

» Filth!

Camping
When I was 20 I went camping with my sister in the south of France, sisterly bonding we told our parents. Honestly, it was more so we could drink away all our hard earned cash.

The campsite was well equipped, the scenery was breath taking and for the first week all was well. We drank wine, bbq'd anything that would fit on the grill and often fell asleep under the stars (it was very good wine).

Yep, the holiday was off to a terrific start. Until one afternoon, when I made the treck to the toilet block. There were at least 15 cubicles that I could have chosen and pretty much all were free, so I can only deduce that it was the fickle finger of fate that poked me into that fated cubicle.

The bogmonster was climbing out of that bowl with a wink and a smile - I glimpsed it for only moment but that thing is etched on my brain forever. The head must have been more than 2 inches clear of the water and I couldn't see the tail. Truely this was a very impressive shit, monumental by most standards.

When I got back to the tent I quickly told my sister of the discovery and, considering she is very much a girly girl, showed a distict lack of horror. In fact, she was going redder and redder and avoiding all eye contact with me.

Yeah, my 18 year old sister had laid a cable of simply epic proportions. Part of me was disgusted, part of me was very proud. But a large part of me was in fits of laughter on the floor as she desperatly told me how, no matter how much she flushed, the damn thing wouldn't go away, and seemed to get higher up the bowl!

Length - couldn't see the end of it...
(Fri 3rd Feb 2012, 19:48, More)

» Filth!

Not quite filth, but messy
My hamster, Bailey, is 2 1/2 years old - which must be about 90 in hamster years.

Tonight is cage-cleaning night, and as usual I opened the bottom of his cage and gave him some fuss before picking him up to put in his ball so he can run around the flat whilst I clean.

Clearly his advancing years has made him somewhat cranky, because the little bugger decided to bite my left index finger. Hard . It fucking hurt, and pissed blood all over my trousers and floor (god bless laminate flooring). Honestly, I never knew a finger could (a) bleed that much, that quickly or (b) swell up that damn fast.

Of course, in the time between him biting me and me reacting (read: screaming and cursing) that I had dropped him on the floor - so, trying to get Bailey into a hamster ball + trying to apply enough pressure to stem bleeding = getting said blood smeered across the floor. It looked like a mini murder scene.

So, tomorrow I get the joy of a tetnus shot in my lunch break. Joy of joys.

Picture link below:
img196.imageshack.us/img196/9448/hamsterattack.jpg
(Tue 7th Feb 2012, 21:29, More)