Chilly

Look, dear, if you’re really cold enough to be wearing a big long fluffy scarf, and Ugg® boots, don’t you think it might help to not be wearing a top that’s leaving your belly and both shoulders bare, and no jacket?

After all, how shall I put this delicately, it does make you look like a bit of a fuckwit.


First Class?

Can someone tell me, just what is the point of buying a first class ticket when you’re on a regional train?

I can understand it (up to a point) on the big long cross-country jobs – I used to take advantage of club class, first voyager, or whatever the feck they called it when I was travelling reguarly between Manchester and Reading, because most of the time it was the only way to guarantee getting a seat. Even better, it was normally a seat that wasn’t dead opposite a squealing child, or some mad git trying to talk to everyone. And you make sure you take advantage of the free snacky things and so on that come as part of the “benefits” of ‘first class’ when you have to pay that much extra, so it kind of works out. (well, it doesn’t, but if you get enough freebies off them, you can almost convince yourself it’s worth paying double the price – and having a seat for four+ hours is a definite advantage over standing for the entire journey.)

But when it comes to the small regional trains, the only difference between first and standard class is that you’re in a different spot on the train. There’s absolutely no extra benefit. Well, maybe again you get a seat – but on all the services I’ve used of late (whether it’s London – Bracknell, Cambridge-London, or Cambridge-Attleborough) have all had free “normal” seats.

So what is the point of the first class bit on these little local services? Other than, of course, to fleece egotistical twats who think it makes them special, and to fill the coffers of yet another train company? </cynicism>


Typo

I love this advert, in Guardian Jobs

Brassiere / Brasserie

Absolutely brilliant.

UPDATED : Ah, the rotten sods have pulled the advert. No fun at all.


Avoiding Scams

The Motley Fool has an interesting piece today about avoiding various scams etc.

Personally, I still find it amazing that people fall for scams like these. I love the way people are so stupid that they’ll send money out as a ‘transfer fee’ to get their winnings from a lottery they’ve never entered in a country they’ve never even visited. So far as I’m concerned, that’s just like an idiot tax – you’re an idiot, you deserve to lose the money.

In a semi-related note (and I know I’ve whittled on about this one before) I also find it amazing that spam comments or emails get any results at all. I mean, what’s the point of the ones I get every day, that say things like (and this is a copy of one of the texts)

Thank you for your loan request, which we recieved yesterday, your refinance application has been accepted

Bad credit OK, We are ready to give you a $339,000 loan, after further review, our lenders have established the lowest monthly payments.

Approval process will take only 1 minute.

Please visit the confirmation link below and fill-out our short 30 second Secure Web-Form.

Does anyone respond to the damn’ things? And lets face it, if they do, they deserve everything they get…


On go the lights

Bah, HumbugIt seems that our now town of residence has some interesting idiosyncracies.

Not least among these is the fact that everyone seems to have done their outdoor christmas lights today, and there appears to have been some kind of town-wide ceremonial switch-on.

All of a sudden this evening, the things seem to have gone on all over the place. It’s very strange. On the plus side, there’s one or two installations that aren’t completely chavtastic. Although that does leave the huge majority still being fit for that title….


Sorted

Amazingly, both BT and Sky did what they’d promised.

By the time the Sky man arrived (at about 10am) the phone line was active – broadband didn’t come online ’til about 5pm, but BT had said that it could be anytime ’til 8pm. So that’s OK.

But surely this is a sign of the impending apocalypse?


Premature

Yes, I knew I was cursing it by banging on about it being the last time I had to do that fucking train journey.

Life, you utter, utter bastard.

I got up at the usual time, did all the normal domestic gubbins – preparing breakfast, letting Hound out into the back garden, blah blah – then checked the local news for travel. Uh-oh. “Severe problems on the Reading – Waterloo route, due to over-running engineering works”. Arses. Check the train times on the XDA (I love useful little services like the train times via Kizoom) and yep, my normal train isn’t just delayed, it’s fucking cancelled.

As are lots of others from earlier in the morning. So I could get the (still delayed) 8:02, but that’ll be rigid with epically pissed-off people, and I just can’t be bothered. So I leave the house at 8:10, get the 8:30 train instead, which was (initially) a bloody good plan. You see, the 8:02 had actually been delayed by twenty minutes, so it was absolutely stuffed with people. Thankfully, not one of them had the brains to say “Hang on, there’s another one in ten minutes, and that’ll be just about empty, as everyone and his Uncle’s on this one” So the 8:30 was pretty quiet for the most part.

However. The engineering works were still over-running, so we ended up fucking about, getting to Twickenham, then re-rerouting through Kingston (wherever the shit that is) and Wimbledon in order to get to Clapham Junction – and because everything was going that route, we travelled at a snail’s pace.

Eventually, at 10:30 we got to Clapham Junction. At which point the service was cancelled, because someone had collapsed on the train, and needed medical attention. Now, I’m not a ghoul, and it was obviously pretty severe – put it this way, it’s the first time I’ve ever heard the guard put a call out for “any medical personnel on the train”. I just can’t believe the number of self-centred smug fuckers who just tutted and sighed at this news, like whoever had collapsed had done it just to spite them, you know, because the train was already late, so why not collapse, and put their day right in the shitter? Cunts.

Anyway, eventually got to Kings Cross, and a quiet train direct to Cambridge. Four and a quarter hours for a journey that normally takes two and a half at worst.