humph

when you hold the door open for someone, they should walk through it, instead of opening the other door and wasting your time.
that's what i think. bastards.

Down

ILX is down. Has been for hours.

What on earth did I come in to work for, if not for the free interwebs?

Bah!

license

If celebrities can control how their image is used and license it, I think that means I can decide whether unflattering photos of me fall under my control. Especially photos taken without my permission.

MOTHER PUSS BUCKET

So I ask the tax office, when doing all of my tax stuff, do I need to fill out a form for 2006?
They say no.
So I go down to the office -- taking a half day off to do it, no less -- last Wednesday. They fill out my forms and send them in.
I come home from work and guess what is waiting for me:
the tax return for 2006.
FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCKS!

humph

I'm bored of dealing with your irritation over someone else. You want to be irritated with me, that's fine. But if you're going to be pissy to/at me because someone else is bothering you then go downstairs and kick some bins. I'm left in this constant state of feeling like everything I do is going to set one of you off and I KNOW that's not because *I* am so incredibly irritating that every little thing I do is magic annoying.
And the least you could do is be gracious about an apology for a misunderstanding.

I'm not your girlfriend; I'm not your mum. I don't get paid to love you unconditionally.

Interviewers who ask you if you're still interested in the position, tell you the lack of a degree is not a deal-breaker, tell you they'll have an answer in a few days, and then completely blow you off.

WHAT THE FUCK?

If I wanted to feel like a jilted prom date, I'd go apply at a fast food joint!

yeah, hi

Could you BACK THE FUCK UP OUT OF MY PERSONAL LIFE?
Right. Thanks very much for that.

If I'm So Creepy...

Why are *you* reading my blog, eh, stalker?

DVLA, you suck

I took another half day off from work to go down to bloody Wimbledon to show them my passport in person so I didn't have to put it in Royal Mail since my passport has my residency sticker in it and is my only form of identification.
And not only did he go, "Sorry, we don't exchange American driver's licenses," as though America was some kind of whacked-out place that doesn't have traffic or cars or roads and lord knows after driving the Dan Ryan every day for FIVE YEARS I certainly can't handle the B roads of Britain, thus I have to get a learner's permit and sit the exams yadda yadda, he then TOOK MY BLOODY PASSPORT *and* charged me the extra in-person premium service fee!
Why?
"We have to send it to Swansea to be checked. You'll get in back in two to three weeks."
But I came HERE to avoid doing that!
"Sorry."


* Not fucking sorry at all, actually.

bah

Okay, if you're going to be so evil as to give me an exam on the masterclass I just sat through and tried so hard to understand my brain just snapped and started thinking about Dancing Homer in the Land of Chocolate, then ask questions that are on the accompanying slides. Do NOT ask me to calculate the self-assessment tax of some fictional character when I can't even handle my own damn tax. I am tax roadkill, people.

i think some people wait anxiously all year for it to be daylight savings time so they have a lame excuse for being an hour late to work.