Monday, 27 September 2010

My email to Steam Packet

 I would like to go to the Isle of Man, but I need my car, so I can't travel by plane. The tickets are stupidly expensive for the ferry, so I don't really know what I'm going to do.
Any ideas?
Anyway, here's my email I sent to Steam Packet. (The ferry company) I don't think they were impressed.

Dear Steam Packet,
Recently I have wanted to travel to the Isle of Man. The decision was made by throwing darts at an atlas, like they do in those terrible American teen movies - however I don't own an atlas so I threw darts at a globe instead. I don't have darts either so I threw biros at the globe. And I don't really have a globe so I was sort of just sat at home alone throwing biros at nothing.
After this fun activity I went online and someone told me that The Isle of Man is not really a part of England so I don't think the police can follow me there. I immediately tried booking tickets with Easy Jet but I got an email reminding me that I'm not allowed near airports for another few years after that incident in February when the plane was in the sky and I got some random nuts and bolts out of my pocket and told the air hostess that I had found them under the engine before the plane had taken off.
Alas, my only choice was to approach you, dear Steam Packet. But as I have found from hundreds of websites, your prices are Ludacrisly high (I spelled it that way not because your prices are unreasonably high, but because they are a befitting price for Ludacris). £200 for a return ticket is more than I can afford.
If I was delivering a package of - let's say Skittles for sake of argument - across the road, and you gave me an extra box of Skittles to take across the road, I would not charge you £200 to take your Skittles. I would probably do it for free.
The thing that confuses me is how your trips to France cost less than your trips to the Isle of Man. Using the Skittles analogy, that's like you giving me a box of Skittles and asking me to take it to France for you. And then you kick me in the balls.
Thank you for your time and I hope you can offer me super discount tickets.

Here's another picture of a beautiful girl. Nomnomnomnomnom.

Saturday, 25 September 2010

I am in lots of pain.

So I got a temporary job delivering things around the neighbourhood. Think of it as a paper route for Chuck Norris.
I have 2,000 of them to deliver, and I carry them around in a gym bag. I can fit about 30 of them in there.
The rest are stacked outside my front door to about 6 foot and I have my car trunk full with them, and my back two seats can no longer carry passengers.
I was told I had 3 weeks to do them all. Sounds pretty hard, right? Well the bastards changed their minds and now I only have 6 days to deliver them all. That's 333.33 a day.
I'm slightly disabled anyway and my GP told me I shouldn't be carrying heavy things or doing repetitive things that hurt, but I have to them anyway. I'm getting paid hardly anything for this, including the amount of wasted petrol it's costing.
Sucks to be me sometimes.

 If you don't like my emo rants, here's a picture of the most beautiful woman ever! Look at her. Wouldn't you like to wake up to that every morning? I would.

Friday, 24 September 2010

Do you know what sucks?

What fucking sucks is how I can't get a job.
The only places that will hire people will only hire 16 year old girls because they're cheaper to hire than people with real experience in a job.
16 year old girls are shit workers - if you've ever worked with one you'll know the turmoil and annoyances that they cause.
So why do employers waste their time hiring them, training them (which costs a lot of time and money) for them to complain that the job sucks and leave three weeks later, to be replaced by another fucking 16 year old girl?
Who knows. But I would love a job that actually hires people who want to work.


I will make delightful music and fill this page with it.
I'm sure you will all enjoy my music.

Here is a picture of my friend Janet to bide your time as you wait for my musical creations.