How Hard Is It?

How hard is it to answer your email?

Step one: read email
Step two: check diary
Step three: reply, answering "I can do that date" or "I can't do that date"

Is this REALLY rocket science?

Annoying Girl On Train

So I'm on a crowded morning Thameslink, as usual, trying to read my book about crowd dynamics, when this stroppy Fashion Girl gets on, immediately pulls out her mobile and starts GABBING away at such great volume that EVERYONE in the carriage can hear her conversation about her stupid fashiony job, how she called the police because she couldn't get the blinds of her office down, her friend's wedding, these stupid coral things that her mate at the flower market was going to get her so she could make some stupid fashiony accessories... and on and on and on at TOP VOLUME for her entire half hour train ride, disrupting everyone else on the train who was trying to read, sleep, figure out which stop to get off at, and the other usual things people on trains do.

She was so loud I could not concentrate on my book, even after I had stuck my finger in the ear nearest her.

So, she finally ends the bloody call, but as she gets off (at my stop, typical) I notice her keep her phone out and start sending a text message. Rather than waiting to climb a crowded staircase at speed behind someone who was clearly more interested in her phone than crowd movement, I cut in front of her in the crush.

She IMMEDIATELY starts going on at TOP VOLUME about how RUDE people in London are, and how it's HARD ENOUGH having to go into London (oh poor dear, getting caught in a crush at rush hour) without people being "RUDE".

I very nearly turned around, and started screaming at her "YOU KNOW WHAT I CALL RUDE?!?!? CARRYING ON A MOBILE PHONE CONVERSATION AT SUCH VOLUME THAT NO ONE ELSE IN THE CARRIAGE CAN READ, SLEEP OR EVEN HEAR THEMSELVES THINK!!!!" but I figured it would be more rude to stop the traffic up the stairs.

Freaking cow's stupid fishtail skirt was falling down, too, revealing fatass plumber's crack, as well. I should have put icecubes down in.

This fact...

Orange Juice now, officially, gives me heartburn.

Don't You Have A Brain Of Your Own, Bee-yatch?

So you start a thread on an internet group, a soul-searching, interesting, sensitive thread about "What Gives Your Life Meaning" which turns out to be quite popular and inspiring. And your freaking stalker* rather than contribute to it, tries to nick your idea and starts a thread on the EXACT same topic, What Gives Your Life Meaning Photo Thread (With Added Extra Twee Sodding Kittens).

Get one clue of your own, cnut.

*yeah, you know, *that* one, the drink-driving, psycho, "I'm a lesbian now", lubed and ready to rumble one that made up imaginary blogs by imaginary people claiming to hate her, in order to get attention.

Bars

Okay, for real. Last night I ventured out on a Tuesday to help celebrate my darling Niece's 21st Birthday. Now, trust me, I would do and go anywhere for my girl. And now that she's 21, I"m thrilled at being able to. Of course, I feel old as shit, but fuck it, Im cute.

I don't drink, but everytime I go out, I spend most of my money on TIPPING THE GODDAMN bartenders. Is it a dollar a drink for these people? Don't they get paid anyway? Why am I giving them a dollar to open a bottle? And I'm supposed to be all impressed that you're wearing a Guns and Roses half shirt and you have ink on your lower back? That band is woefully overrated and I'm not impresses by your thong. Thanks for not telling me that what I was drinking was 5 dollars when you had $1.50 well drinks all night. I hate you. And I have to give you ANOTHER dollar? Bite me. Many times. That's why I don't drink. I prefer the smokable cocktail, yo.

Fuck blonde girls who work in bars

You FUCKING cow

My Mini was accidentally delivered to the office this morning instead of my home.
While I went downstairs to sort the kerfuffle, Waterloo said, out loud to the whole desk,
"How is she going to fit into a Mini?"
Why don't you just ask the Afro-Carribbean editor to shine your shoes for you, as well?
This will be reported to HR.

So that's who likes Hard-Fi

There is an ad sales rep who sits near me and she irritates the living shit out of me. She's got this lazy, broad accent that sounds like she's sucking some guy's cock when she flirts with clients over the phone. She thinks she speaks French as well but can't get past comment-allez vous before spiralling back into her usual chavtastic banter in English (cheerio darling, right, we're going to Egypt for the weekend, oh it's going to be faaaabulous).
Right now she's talking about buying tickets for Hard-Fi, and should they buy them on the door or just suck up the £4 mailing service charge, etc. I guess she doesn't do this much.
So now it all makes sense. People who buy Hard-Fi records don't buy many records at all.