With These They Offended Me

People are always asking me what makes me so angry. Well I've taken notes of one particular incident and provided it here as an example. This happened last week. I find myself needing to get a birthday card posted to my lovely old (read: rich) grandmother.

My requirements for this simple mission are:
1) Buy and post one (1) birthday card.
2) Obtain twenty (20) cigarettes.

The reality is a lot like this:
16:30 Leave work a bit early to have card sent before last post. An hour is easily, more than enough time.
16:35 Arrive Morrisons.
16:40 Get to till with 1 birthday card and 2 bottles of red bull. Join queue at basket aisle.
16:41 Why the fuck is there a queue at this time of day? Five people wait patiently, one less so.
16:42 Why?
16:43 Why? Why?
16:44 Why? Why? Why? Only one old lady ahead of me in queue now.
16:45
- The old lady wants to buy Morissons vouchers. I fail to understand why as cash is normally accepted in store.
- The till worker has only £25 in coupons. Ms Oldington-Bitch has her heart set on £30 worth.
- £25 in coupons and a £5 note just won't do. A Supervisor is summoned by magical flashing sign.
- I'm guessing the coupons are a birthday present for her heroin addicted grandson. She doesn't want to give him cash, so he has to buy food with the vouchers. This strikes me as a little unfair of her.
- And shortsighted, I'd just buy booze and sell it to tramps.
- I pity the other poor old lady who gets mugged for his heroin money because of her selfishness.
- How much crack could he buy with a fiver anyway? Not enough for a birthday party, I'm betting.
- Odd that nobody ever burgles houses for cigarette money, isn't it?
16:50
- Ok. Walk away. Just forget the shopping and walk away.
- Walk away.
- Walk away. I'm going to count down from 10.
16:51
- The till monkey borrows some coupons from the till next to him to appease the old lady.
- Invisible supervisor suspected dead from over efficiency in back of store somewhere. Or he got into the pork pies.
16:52
- Old lady finally done with. She had three £10 notes with which to buy £30 worth of vouchers. Yet she took (and I timed it) nearly a whole minute to pay and fuck off.
16:52:30
- I am finally finished.
- Huge queue for cigarettes caused by people buying lottery tickets (Wednesday).
- Decide to go somewhere else before the fuckers start charging me rent.
16:57
- Arrive local Co-op. Only one person in front of me in this queue.
- Till monkey cannot serve alcohol without a supervisor. Supervisor summoned.
17:00
- Depart Co-op. Clean blood and teeth from shoes.
- Kids on bikes stream past either side of my car as I try to pull away. Heavy leaning on the horn is required to intimidate them out of the way. They do so with the good grace and style typical of the little shitbags found in this cuntry.
17:05
- Arrive home. Sign card, find address and seal envelope.
17:06-17:16
- I have no stamps.
- Find stamp attached to water bill (unsent). Remove stamp to affix to birthday card.
- Stamp is no longer sticky.
- Find pritt-stick.
- Realise pritt-stick is actually lip-balm fractionally before attempting to use it.
- Find super glue.
- Force open super glue and clear out the nozzle so glue can come out.
- Notice super glue is empty.
- Find selotape.
- Affix stamp to card in traditional manner.
17:16
- Drive to nearest post box.
17:20
- Post letter.
17:25 (or 24 for those who like to check everything adds up)
- Arrive home. Relax by shouting at the sky.
17:45
- I forgot to take the price sticker off the card.

So don't "cheer up, it might never happen" me. It fucking will, it probably already has, and, it might well again.

Don't think this is a one off, either. Once it took me an hour and a half to nip to McDonald's for dinner. And then I ended up cooking.

Attention Scientists: Stop Trying To Kill Peter

Hello? This is child cancer calling... Wait, wrong number.
Something Fishy This Way Comes... Eat Chips Instead!
Smoke or Sight... Hot flushes or cancer? Arthritis or Strokes?
Stress Caused By Worrying About Diabetes Can Cause Diabetes, Stress

Fucking meddling scientists. You people have some level of responsibility you know. No, don't try to hide behind that "I just report my findings" banner, it won't stop a fucking super cosmic ray gun anyway. Come out with your hands up and throw that petri-dish on the fucking floor in front of you.

Good, now I've got your attention you guys need to shape up or slit your white as snow sun starved wrists to the fucking elbow - I haven't paid any mind to anything you've said since around 1982. I don't even believe your claims on global warming. Why not? Because the so-called scientific process has been destroyed by these half-assed studies and what seems to be systematic disingenuity on the part of Science. And also becaues global warming is clearly a load of old cock.

If I want to hear badly rationalised bullshit, wild speculation and fabricated sensationalism, I'll go to a fucking mosque. The job of science is to report facts and studies in an impartial, unemotional manner and to let the reader draw conclusions. And you're fucking failing. You're fucking up your own cause with any right-minded people who come across your latest "red wine cures AIDS but causes cancer of the cock" story. Go fucking hang yourselves in shame, you fucking harlequins. Wait, wasn't hanging linked to arthritis recently?

International Relations

We had some translations done at the labour camp I laughingly call work a while back and I happened to notice the phrase for "memory buffer overrun" in french.

It is "dépassement de tampon mémoire".

I had a quick look and checked the German - rolling in at a hefty "Gedächtnispufferüberschuß"

This is why the french lose wars. You can't mount an organised guerilla defence against an invading force shouting out phrases about tampons.

Your only real hope is that some nice German storm troopers appear to back you up, screaming things like "Gedächtnispufferüberschuß. Schnell bitte!. Das Kapitan ist einen Reichstagfuhrer!", waving 20 foot long machine guns with 30 foot bayonets and bleeding from the eyes due to their death-laser implants overheating.

Don't get me wrong, I've no soft spot for the germans - you just have to respect the way their language reeks of badly concealed violence. Plotting the next world war would only take them three or four words. Orders to nip over the border into Poland and take up defensive positions around Warsaw's town square with 20mm howitzers would take mere seconds.

Be prepared, I say.