I really think you should send them that, would love to see what you get bk if anything.Quote:
Originally Posted by chalice
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I really think you should send them that, would love to see what you get bk if anything.Quote:
Originally Posted by chalice
They only took the time to note the avid viewer part and are quite pleased by your letter.Quote:
Originally Posted by chalice
:glag: Brilliant. You have my sympathies.Quote:
Originally Posted by chalice
hoi carrot top have you got your hair sorted yet? What colour was it supposed to be?
No its pretty much ginger. It was meant to be dark red.
I'll buy some more dye tomorrow and sort it out but for now I am being laughed at.
lol awww bless. who are ya beng laffedat by?
A better idea:Quote:
Originally Posted by chalice
Become the bus-lady's agent and market her life as a reality show.
The scratch-n-sniff merchandising could be big. :)
I'm sensing issues in this thread.
Spotted that, eh? :whistlingQuote:
Originally Posted by Biggles
Well I wasn't sure at first but as I read on I felt the weight of probability leaned that way.Quote:
Originally Posted by j2k4Spotted that, eh? :whistlingQuote:
Originally Posted by Biggles
Who says men aren't sensitive? :01:
Dear Biggles,
Your overwhelming niceness is quite annoying.
Please desist in making a habit of it least I be forced to reciprocate.
Sincerely ,
Use to abuse.
The producers of fucking Wife Swap.Quote:
Originally Posted by BigglesWell I wasn't sure at first but as I read on I felt the weight of probability leaned that way.Quote:
Originally Posted by j2k4
Who says men aren't sensitive? :01:
True story.
Dear ESPN -
Why the fuck do you think any of us want to watch the Rock-Paper-Scissors world cup final? Or Fishing? Or log-chopping!? :crazy:
Either put something decent on or go do something else.
Your truly,
A Real Sports Viewer.
Decades of Civil Service has its drawbacks :(Quote:
Originally Posted by IdolEyes787
I posted this many years ago - I recall Clocker liked it. It is in effect a response to a letter of complaint.
Dear Mr Addison,
I am writing to you to express our thanks for your more-than-prompt reply to our latest communication, and also to answer some of the points you raise. I will address them, as ever, in order.
Firstly, I must take issue with your description of our last as a "begging letter". It might perhaps more properly be referred to as a "tax demand". This is how we, at the Inland Revenue, have always, for reasons of accuracy, traditionally referred to such documents.
Secondly, your frustration at our adding to the "endless stream of crapulent whining and panhandling vomited daily through the letterbox on to the doormat" has been noted. However, whilst I have naturally not seen the other letters to which you refer, I would cautiously suggest that their being from "pauper councils, Lombardy pirate banking houses and pissant gas-mongerers" might indicate that your decision to "file them next to the toilet in case of emergencies" is at best a little ill-advised. In common with my own organisation, it is unlikely that the senders of these letters do see you as a "lackwit bumpkin" or, come to that, a "sodding charity". More likely they see you as a citizen of Great Britain, with a responsibility to contribute to the upkeep of the nation as a whole.
Which brings me to my next point. Whilst there may be some spirit of truth in your assertion that the taxes you pay "go to shore up the canker-blighted, toppling folly that is the Public Services", a moment's rudimentary calculation ought to disabuse you of the notion that the government in any way expects you to "stump up for the whole damned party" yourself. The estimates you provide for the Chancellor's disbursement of the funds levied by taxation, whilst colourful, are, in fairness, a little off the mark. Less than you seem to imagine is spent on "junkets for Bunterish lickspittles" and "dancing whores", whilst far more than you have accounted for is allocated to, for example, "that box-ticking facade of a university system".
A couple of technical points arising from direct queries:
1. The reason we don't simply write "Muggins" on the envelope has to do with the vagaries of the postal system;
2. You can rest assured that "sucking the very marrows of those with nothing else to give" has never been considered as a practice because even if the Personal Allowance didn't render it irrelevant, the sheer medical logistics involved would make it financially unviable.
I trust this has helped. In the meantime, whilst I would not in any way wish to influence your decision one way or the other, I ought to point out that even if you did choose to "give the whole foul jamboree up and go and live in India" you would still owe us the money. Please forward it by Friday.
Yours sincerely,
H J Lee,
Customer Relations
lol i like how he used the quotes in that letter:lol:
Dear Rafi,Quote:
Originally Posted by tralalala
WTF?
Fishing rocks the socks.
Who the fuck doesn't like fishing??
Bill Dance > *
Yes, and who's more sensitive than an Inland Revenue accountant. :huh:Quote:
Originally Posted by BigglesWell I wasn't sure at first but as I read on I felt the weight of probability leaned that way.Quote:
Originally Posted by j2k4
Who says men aren't sensitive? :01:
OMFG you've got to be kidding.. Collecting stamps would be a more interesting sport than fishing..... :blink:Quote:
Originally Posted by SkizoDear Rafi,Quote:
Originally Posted by tralalala
WTF?
Fishing rocks the socks.
Who the fuck doesn't like fishing??
Bill Dance > *
Not if you're the fish.
On the contrary - Fish are well known for having one of the world's last 4 Penny Blacks. Trew story.
Dear ankle,
What did ever do to deserve your loss of support? I get plenty of calcium and protein to keep you health, and yet you gave way today. Now look at you - you've gone and let your anterior talofibular tear, or so im told. Now you're all swollen, you can't move an inch, and you can no longer support your owners weight, or any for that matter.
Get well soon. :dabs:
Ps - please stop sending agonizing pain signals to my brain.
Sorry to hear that Skiz,soft tissue damage can be worse than breaking something.
Hope you got a good analgesic you might need it for a while.
Got some Vicodin. :dry:
This shit is excruciating! I've honestly never been in this much pain. Ever. It seems to just get worse with every minute.
I'm off to bed... maybe I can fall asleep.
Dear Employer
When you decide to close a call centre, forcing your employees to look for a new job, could you please be aware that when applying for internal jobs at the new site that they need more then 3 days notice for the interview, particularly if you want them to organise a swish presentaion. This is particularly important for people on the advanced wine course whos lectures you ask us attend without fail but which take up a large chunk, along with working, of those three days. You have left your employee stressed out with no time to breath let alone sleep and would (if your employee was not fabulous) result in poor performace at work, during lectures and at interview.
Also, when you organise an interview for a particular day, could you ensure it is not on the same day as a vital lecture that the interviewer himself wishes us to attend, and if this is unavoidable, could you least ensure that the two events are in the same city and not 200 miles apart forcing your employee to have to travel hundreds of miles in a hire car on an already stressful day?
You have forced your employee to suffer sleep deprevation and early rising as well as suffering extreme panic and stress.
Employer, thank you. You have as usual added to the joy experienced in your employees life.
Kindest Regards
Crab - fucked off and knackered- Girl.
Vicodin are commonly given for the type of injury you have. They're better than Darvocet, ffs.Quote:
Originally Posted by Skizo
Get some rest, Skiz. You're going to need it, bro.
-bd :cheers:
Calcium helps the bone keep strong.. It doesn't do much in favour of the fibers that hold it all together.. Basically it's a matter of strength of muscles around the ankle, and if you know how to walk or not. I'm guessing the latter reason is the one because of which your ankle is currently screwed :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Skizo
Quote:
Originally Posted by Skizo
I had that same injury. It hurts like a bar steward. :(
:console: howz it going CG have you got any stuff done with the presentation?Quote:
Originally Posted by CrabGirl
Dear Boredom,
Please fuck the hell off and leave me alone, I've never been nasty to you or something like that.. So go away. Like, now.
Yours kindly,
Rafi
Dear eBay
sell my fecking game or else!
Dan
Dear Google,
Share some of your wealth with me or fuck off and die soon.
k.thx.dai
For those who get the Great Eastern Railway or any trains really.
This is a letter that a friend of a friend has recently written to Great Eastern.
Dear Sir or Madam:
I write this letter out of anger at the state of the train service currently provided by yourselves. Today I have come to the end of my tether. I attempted to phone your customer service number to make a complaint but after being put on hold for 15 minutes I hung up.
I am in complete disbelief at how you can continue charging so much for such a horrific service and wish to let you in on my average morning:-
Every morning I park my car at Seven Kings aiming to board the 7.53am train to Liverpool Street station however since the trains rarely stick to any kind of time table this is irrelevant. I work just outside of Liverpool Street station and start work at 9am, this train should pull about 8.15am allowing plenty of time to be in the office well before 8.30am as well as enabling me to purchase breakfast on the way.
I make my way to the platform to find literally hundreds of others standing on the station, indicating that there has not been a train for some time. I then wait for 10 minutes on the promise of 'the next train arriving at platform 3 will be the delayed 7.02am service (or some such ridiculous time) this train is expected to arrive in 2 minutes'. Five minutes still with no train having appeared I am greeted with the same monotonous voice which I have come to know so well, advising 'the next train to arrive at platform 3 will be the delayed 7.02am service this train is expected to arrive in 2 minutes, this delay has been caused by a signal failure in Greater Manchester'. By this time several thousand commuters are standing on the platform praying that lady luck is shining on them this morning and that when the next train pulls in the doors will by some miracle stop in front of them.
Several commuters are leaning over the platform edge peering into the distance scanning the horizon for a rare sighting of a Great Eastern train which is virtually unheard of before 10am. Gasps of surprise spread along the platform when a train is spotted, however most are unsure whether their eyes are deceiving them. Never entirely convinced myself, I pinch my arm just to ensure this isn't some kind of elaborate dream. A small waive of joy washes over me as I realise it is a train and not a mirage.
Hooray I should be in work by 9am!! However, as the train starts to slow and the windows rush past any previous delight (or perhaps relief) experienced was short lived and has dissentegrated to nothing as I realise there is no way on Gods earth I am squashing my massive (note the sarcasm) 9 stone bulk into the 2 inch gap remaining in each carriage.
So pursues my wait for the 'next train' if ever there will be one. The time now 8.20am breakfast plans are aborted (again) and I realise it is imperative I get on the next train or not only will I arrive at work hungry I will also be late. The next train pulls in and de ja vu kicks in. Packed, packed, packed!!! My fellow commuters (by this time running into millions) look aghast as I stand back about 3 meters, ''what is she doing?''. The train stops and the doors open I take a run up...... a leap....... bang! Yes I'm on!! No one can breathe but at least I'm on. Minor celebrations begin in my head, a small band starts up and I feel rather smug at my good fortune. Everyone on the train is moaning, but what option to I have? 10% of my salary every month goes on to this service and I believe I have a right (although Great Eastern probably disagrees) to board a train. Besides what choice do I have I could be there all day!!
Next challenge, the doors but luckily for me everyone is very experienced and as the familiar beeb beeb beeb sounds everyone inhales and after taking a few blows to either side of my head the doors close and we're off. Well actually we're going about as fast a tortoise with three legs, due to 'adverse weather conditions' which can be translated as 'spitting'.
I suppose this could be deemed as understandable, the train system was designed optimistically I suspect with the expectance of glorious sunshine every day. I dread to think what will happen if the weather gets really bad, perhaps the ceilings will leak, perhaps they are made from canvas because they omitted to consider external stimuli such as rain, and sleet. God help us all if it snows!
Next challenge - Ilford. Not only do I now have a big muddy stain across my cheek and nose where my face has been squashed against the glass but I am fully aware of the fact I will have to fight to keep my place on this carriage especially if anyone wants to get off. What should be a pleasant journey to work is now more like survival of the fittest. Other passengers are now not considered as friendly fellow commuters they are the enemy designed to challenge your staying power and threaten your place on the carriage. Fortunately at Ilford no one needs to get off (phew) but now there are about 40 people charging at me who all appear keen to join us on our 'adventure' to work - 1 lucky man makes it. By this stage the number of passengers present in each carriage is the equivalent of cramming about 100 sardines into a standard sized tin. We are so tightly packed in I cannot move my hands to get a tissue from my pocket to wipe my nose, I can feel a mobile phone vibrating in my pocket which I realise is not mine it belongs to the lady attached to my right hand side. On top of this the heat is unbearable I have sweat running down my forehead which I am powerless to do anything about. The 1 inch gap designed to ventilate the trains appear to be more designed as 'a little joke' by Great Eastern, who in the peak of British summer time took great pleasure in permanently wedging then half shut so they open barely a centimetre. In fact I'm half surprised they haven't been glued completely shut for additional 'fun'.
Eventually after the train has reluctantly dragged its feet into Stratford, the passengers who have now all bonded together to form a putty like human square burst open onto the platform and now its time for the recovery process. I take my hair down in an effort to dry the sweat out of it, I try to wipe the mud off of my face, I pick off the snot which has dried in a crusty trail from my nose to my upper lip and also try to regain the use of my body parts which have ceased up due to excessive pins and needles.
We are then greeted at Liverpool Street station by stadium sized crowds queuing to get through the barriers. And after this I sprint to work like Linford Christie, scraping in by the skin of my teeth for 9am, looking like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards and understandably in a 'great' mood.
A few comments for you to take on board:-
- Don't add insult to injury by 'thanking us for travelling with Great Eastern', as its certainly not something 99% of the passengers 'choose' they are just unfortunate enough to live near to one of your dire train stations.
- Do not ask us to accept your apologies for the delay, you should be apologising for the abysmal service, the over-packed trains and the extortionate price of travel.
- Perhaps the layout of the trains could be reconsidered, you are never going to be able to provide enough trains, so perhaps you could rip out the seats and everyone could stand up. You could then sell the seats at a car boot sale and perhaps offer a refund or Christmas bonus type scheme for season ticket holders..
- Why not consider a name change? I can't think of a more ill-fitting name than 'Great Eastern' I should think 'Shite Eastern' would be far more appropriate.
I trust someone will have the decency to read and respond to this letter, and perhaps even consider taking some of my innovative ideas on board.
I look forward to your explanation, and proposed plans for improvements.
Regards,
So did he get anything bk?
This letter fails on two counts.Quote:
Originally Posted by Erasmus_Jones
It is far too long.
Rage and sarcasm are enhanced by brevity.
No mention is made of the enclosed explosive device.
It's only fair to give your victim a bit of warning.
You probably won't like this one either then.Quote:
Originally Posted by clockerThis letter fails on two counts.Quote:
Originally Posted by Erasmus_Jones
It is far too long.
Rage and sarcasm are enhanced by brevity.
No mention is made of the enclosed explosive device.
It's only fair to give your victim a bit of warning.
A real-life customer complaint letter sent to NTL from their complaints
dept....
Dear Cretins
I have been an NTL customer since 9th July 2001, when I signed up for your
3-in-one deal for cable TV, cable modem, and telephone.
During this three-month period I have encountered inadequacy of service
which I
had not previously considered possible, as well as ignorance and stupidity
of monolithic proportions.
Please allow me to provide specific details, so that you can either
pursue your professional prerogative, and seek to rectify these
difficulties -
or more likely (I suspect) so that you can have some entertaining reading
material as you while away the working day smoking B&H and drinking
vendor-coffee on the bog in your office:
My initial installation was cancelled without warning or notice, resulting
in my spending an entire Saturday sitting on my fat arse waiting for your
technician to arrive.
When he did not arrive at all, I spent a further 57 minutes listening to
your infuriating hold music, and the even more annoying Scottish robot woman
telling me to look at your helpful website.... how?
I alleviated the boredom to some small degree by playing with my testicles
for a few minutes - an activity at which you are no-doubt both familiar and
highly adept.
The rescheduled installation then took place some two weeks later, although
the technician did forget to bring a number of vital tools - such as a
drill-bit, and his cerebrum.
Two weeks later, my cable modem had still not arrived. After several further
telephone calls (actually 15 telephone calls over 4 weeks) my modem arrived
... a total of six weeks after I had requested it, and begun to pay for it.
I estimate that the downtime of your internet servers is roughly 35%...these
are usually the hours between about 6pm and midnight, Monday to Friday, and
most of the useful periods over the weekend.
I am still waiting for my telephone connection. I have made 9 telephone
calls on my mobile to your no-help line this week, and have been unhelpfully
transferred to a variety of disinterested individuals, who are it seems also
highly skilled bollock jugglers.
I have been informed that a telephone line is available (and someone will
call me back); that no telephone line is available (and someone will call me
back);
that I will be transferred to someone who knows whether or not a telephone
line is available (and then been cut off); that I will be transferred to
someone who knows whether or not a telephone line is available (and then
been redirected to an answer machine informing me that your office is
closed); that I will be transferred to someone who knows whether or not a
telephone line is available (and then been redirected to the irritating
Scottish robot woman...and several other variations on this theme.
Doubtless you are no-longer reading this letter, as you have at least a
thousand other dissatisfied customers to ignore, and also another one of
those crucially important testicle-moments to attend to. Frankly I don't
care, it's far more satisfying as a customer to voice my frustrations in
print than to shout them at your unending hold music.
Forgive me, therefore, if I continue.
I thought BT were shit, that they had attained the holy piss-pot of
god-awful customer relations, that no-one, anywhere, ever, could be more
disinterested, less helpful or more obstructive to delivering service to
their customers. That's why I chose NTL, and because, well, there isn't
anyone else is there?
How surprised I therefore was, when I discovered to my considerable
dissatisfaction and disappointment what a useless shower of bastards you
truly are. You are sputum-filled pieces of distended rectum - incompetents
of the highest order. British Telecom - wankers though they are - shine like
brilliant beacons of success, in the filthy puss-filled mire of your
seemingly limitless inadequacy.
Suffice to say that I have now given up on my futile and foolhardy quest to
receive any kind of service from you. I suggest that you do likewise, and
cease any potential future attempts to extort payment from me for the
services which you have so pointedly and catastrophically failed to
deliver - any such activity will be greeted initially with hilarity and
disbelief - although these feelings will quickly be replaced by derision,
and even perhaps a small measure of bemused rage.
I enclose two small deposits, selected with great care from my cats litter
tray, as an expression of my utter and complete contempt for both you and
your pointless company. I sincerely hope that they have not become
desiccated during transit - they were satisfyingly moist at the time of
posting, and I would feel considerable disappointment if you did not
experience both their rich aroma and delicate texture. Consider them the
very embodiment of my feelings towards NTL, and it's worthless employees.
Have a nice day - may it be the last in you miserable short life, you
irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of twats.
Dear Erasmus Jones,
Write shorter letters of complaint or GTFO.
Kindly,
Rafi (OfPishPish)
How well you know me.Quote:
Originally Posted by Erasmus_Jones
This one was not only too long (again!) but only semi-coherent...I mean really, "monolithic proportions"?
The biggest failure however was the cat poop.
He not only revealed himself as a cat owner- hardly a terrifying breed to begin with- but most telling, as someone willing to handle cat feces.
Any customer service rep worth their salt would know this guy is most likely to die of feline enteric zoonoses before he crawls out of his Mom's basement.
You can add clocker to your ignore list if you like. Most people do. :smilie4:
Why? what's wrong with clocker?
Dear bittard mod,
Quit your belly-aching and quit trying to change someone else's website. You have you own, so piss off. There things in this world which you cannot change, and I only listen to your rants out of courtesy.
Suck it up, ffs.
-Skizo