REALLY fucking irritating! So as an off-shoot of the " detestable wank speak" thread I thought a wee thread to discuss those little irritations of day-to-day life that really, REALLY bug your tits; I'll start. So, went to drop the "weans at the pool" at work today prior to hitting the road. There I was ensconced in trap one, perched happily on the throne ruminating on the days tasks and contemplating my first ride of the season this upcoming weekend on my new MS Rally. Happy I was, content, all was well in my little fragrant world. However things needed to be progressed and it came time to clean up after my efforts; it was at this point that one's karma was dented, ones' Chi was fucked with and ones' day had a kink irrevocably installed. I'm talking about the big plastic, round wall mounted bog roll holder. My nemesis, a circular homunculus a fiendish contraption that is designed to deny the paper required to conclude ones' endeavors. Would it dispense? Would it turn? Would it provide? WOULD IT FUCK!!! I tickled, I teased, I cajoled. I charmed, I whispered nicely, I demanded and I threatened. It remained silent, resolute, aloof. Not to be defeated, and obviously requiring my usual yardage, I attempted to walk my fingers round the mega-roll repeatedly in the vain hope of tracing the free end, a task it seems more difficult than combining the atom; needless to say I was not successful, my entire hand, now inserted in a James Herriot styleee within the beast became immovably trapped! Good God thought I, what if i cant remove myself from it's jaws? What if I have to summon assistance? What if the emergency services are required? Such scenarios were whizzing round my fevered brain as I was surrounded by the miasma of me own effluent and the tide of panic rose inexorably higher. If I was going to have to summon help from my colleagues to release said paw from the jaws of ignominy it would be the end of me, a career in tatters, a reputation in shreds a life ruined. BUT NO! An epiphany, like a bolt of electricity, crashed into my thoughts. A cunning plan was hatched, a scheme of such perfection that ballads would be written! I had spied that the abomination had a key hole! An access point atop with a screw mechanism; this meant that I could gain illicit entry. But how? What methodology would suit? I don't know about you but I don't go for my morning constitutional with a tool kit. What to do? What indeed to do? And then the solution to my dilemma presented itself. Like Paul on the Road to Damascus I looked down and betwixt my pale thighs, resting gently against my age'd shriveled pizzle was my company ID tag and.... queue Heavenly Hosanas, my FUCKIN' LOCKER KEY. The solution presented itself pre-packaged. I would use said key to open the flap, extract my hand, access the roll, remove required sheets, wipe away happily and retire from the field of combat victorious to the cheers of admiring fans. This was the plan, perfect and without fault. What actually happened was I first dropped my locker key on to the freshly laid multi coiler nestling gently within the pan that I had laid some time previous; along with shiny new lanyard. By this juncture ones nerves were frayed to say the least. Not to be deterred I retrieved the offending item, but funnily enough didn't yet have ANYTHING TO WIPE IT OFF ON! By this time I am sweating, I am being called, my absence is noted. With soiled single hand I gently pried the lock open and unbeknownst to me the large holder has a sprung loaded mechanism! WTF!!! It launched itself off the wall, bounced of my knobbly knees and clattered to the floor causing much consternation with the occupant of the next trap. Now I am distraught, I need cleansed and I need an escape route. I grab the toilet roll to gather what I need and without hesitation or preamble the large, multi-kilo roll ejects from the holder bounces off the opposite wall, onto my chest and rolls out under the door! I was left dumfounded at the vagaries of life, I was also left with but two, that is just TWO pieces of single ply, budget, fun size arse wipes to conclude my efforts with. I was almost reduced to tears. It was a hell of a way to start ones day; I almost went outside for a smoke, and I don't even smoke! So My vote goes to wall mounted bog roll holders that hold onto their contents like its fucking gold leaf. Damn them, may they burn in hell.
My first thought in such a predicament would be to flush the log. Next, up with the keks and with clenched buttocks, off to seek an alternative trap with freely available khazi paper. Keks down again, wipe (probably a larger area by now owing to clenching), drop the paper into bowl, flush and exit to wash hands and continue my day. Assume alternative traps were not available?
Security questions. I get it, you’re a bank or building society, something that could cause me an issue if my information was compromised. But windscreens, really? Booked mine in for a chip repair but had to change the time. I had to answer 4 security questions! For a windscreen chip. I mean who’s booking these in maliciously? And do you want to know the best thing? They rang me! They had to change the appointment because I was double booked. Don’t get me started on booking into hotels either. I’ve booked the room, you’ve got all my details, what in the name of all that is holy are you typing into that screen, War & Peace? Give me my key!
Both alternative traps were occupied; I had no other options. But it is a general condemnation of them all, they are everywhere, loaded with cheap paper, that can only really be described as diaphanous, that your finger invariably bursts through and inserts itself in your fundus! Infuriating.
Im still laughing, but this did remind me: On a slightly related topic, touring and what to pack. Yes, this IS related to personal areas. As the years go by, eyesight may not be what it once was. Also, on tour, many miles in the saddle, can have affects…so to speak. Anyway, the advice part…make sure to pack toothpaste that is in a completely different looking tube to the arse cream. It really is best not to mix them up !
Rfi Websites, anything to do with reservations. Put in the date you want, how many rooms, dog…no dog, parking. Not the right results. Go again..oh great, these look better, then you spot the date has changed..or the city…country…its back to one room, no dogs…wtf. How many times do I need to enter my search criteria? And websites where you need to open an account. Hell, I only want a pair of socks! Those age scrolling things. I know Im old, but Im older by the time I scroll down to feking 1966… Whenever I have been lucky enough to be running a decent car, I always look for a space miles away from everyone else to avoid scratches and dings. Far, far corner of the car park. Always some pillock parked right next to me despite the parking be no where near capacity. Why ?? Is it some game I dont know about?
And here's another. T junctions on rural roads. Those in high powered, usually German metal, who wait for you to approach and then leap out in front of you causing an emergency brake then proceed to dawdle up the road without a care in the World; What was the effing hurry!? C**TS! It's at these times that I regret not getting the .50 caliber Ma Deuce heavy machine gun option for the front lights, these bastards deserve to be turned into red mist!
Oh the humanity!!! Slapping colgate on your sheriffs badge when expecting Anusol; I bet that brings a tear to the eye! At least your farts will taste minty fresh for the advertised 24 hours. But think of the adverse, Anusol on the gums, it would certainly tighten up your smile.
And another. Airport drop off/pick up charges. Recently collected SWMBO from Glasgow, £7 on the gate for a 3 minute drop off. I almost had a fucking embolism.
Speed limits. Not just any speed limits.. The ones that go 30-40-30-60-50-30-40-60…in the space of half a mile. Just feking NO. Sixty limit 100yards long between two 30s. Is it a challenge or what ?
Oooh. Speed bumps. You are in a 30 with speed bumps, but anything over 10mph rips the bottom off the car. What is going on?
People on the motorway who pull out in front of you to pass another vehicle, but execute the overtake travelling 10mph slower than before. Save a bullet for them too. Same ones will slow down way below the speed limit each time they see an average speed camera. What do they not understand about AVERAGE ?
Full time traffic lights on roundabouts, Red for me and Green for nobody as it's 4 am and i'm the only joker out that early sat at Red fuming.
Absolutely hilarious (although I feel your pain) You sir should be a writer (if you're not one already) of the finest comedy, made me literally laugh out loud ;-)
