Bloody hell, this is the 3,000th post on d4d™. That’s going some. I know that the actual post ID is something like 3,020, but there’s been posts I’ve started writing and then deleted, and that sort of thing, which knackers the numbering system. However, WP has a “you have written xxx posts, and that says that this one is number 3,000 – so that’s what I’m going with.

Looking back over the archives, I find it interesting to see just how much d4d™ has changed over the three years it’s been writing. There’s been a lot of progress, both in writing style, and in the life behind the writing. (ooh, check that out for semi-pretentious. Get me, indeed. Heh)

The last year in particular has held one hell of a lot of changes. This time last year I was still working for the Council of the Damned alongside Stinky. I was travelling on most weekends to see Herself, which helped stress-levels both a) go up while travelling, and b) go down once I’d got there. (As a small aside, I’ve just noticed that it’s less than 13 months since I did post #2000, that’s something like 3 posts a day on average over the last year.) I was looking at moving away from Manchester, although we hadn’t decided on what the domestic situation would be once I’d done so.

Over the last twelve months I’ve become a lot more settled, moved, sorted out a lot of stuff, passed the driving test, got myself out of debt, folded up the old company completely, and had two jobs. I’m a lot calmer than I was, and less ranty – although a lot of stuff still bugs me.

I wonder what’ll happen in the next 1,000 posts?

Last night had one part that was kind of fun.

Going along the dual-carriageway to pick up Herself from her night out (damn, knew this driving lark had a downside! *grin*), I was going past a whole row of cars, although still “only” doing 70 when there’s a whole rain of blue flashing lights in the mirror. Fark – having only just passed, I’m only allowed 6 points before I have to go through the entire malarkey again.

So I check the speedo, and yes, I’m only going 70. OK, the buggers can’t be after me. Fucketty shit he’s coming up fast. And bugger, there’s a whole shitload of cars on the left, so I can’t pull in safely to let him past.

Sod it, speed up – he’s going somewhere else, and if I get stopped for speeding, I can pretty much justify it.

85mph past the traffic, straight back into the left lane, and whoosh, off he goes into the night. Thank chuff for a car that’s got some poke…

RIP Ronnie Barker.

A genius.

After the conversation today, I’m beginning to suspect that either a)Argos exists in a different dimension to the rest of the world, or b) they’re a bunch of fucktard cunts with the technical skills of a slightly retarded marmoset. Or c) Both.

I’ve ordered a new sofa-bed for the spare bedroom – a long story I can’t be arsed to go into now, but it was needed – and ordered it from Argos. No particular reason, other than that they had one we liked. Which, when all’s said and done, is as good a reason as any.

The first insult-to-injury moment comes when the website says “This item is only available for home delivery” – fair enough, I don’t want to load a sofa-bed plus mattress etc into a Ford Focus – and I can see that this kind of thing would take up room in the shop warehouse, so great, deliver it directly to me. “Delivery costs £5 extra”. Cunts. Charging me to deliver something I can’t collect from the store – not just because it’s a hassle, but because you won’t stock it in the shops is taking the piss. But hey ho, it’s only a fiver. I can live with that.

So I ordered it. Easy. Except no confirmation comes through to my email address – it should do, they say they’ve sent one. And I can’t log back in using the email address I thought I’d given them, which means I’ve probably fucked it up. I call the customer helpline…

“Oh, don’t worry, the order’s gone through, but sometimes we it takes two days to send out the email”
“Eh? You’re taking the piss. Two days to send an email?”
“No, that’s right. It can take two days. It takes at least twenty-four hours for your customer account to be sorted out too.”
“But I did it all online – the information’s in the bloody database already!”
“Yeah, but it still takes time to set up…”

I despair. Bunch of idiots in a parallel dimension, I’m sure of it.