26.4.15 Trial By Ordeal - The ASDA Way

It comes as no surprise to me (repeatedly) that ASDA's ability to charge customers the correct amounts for their shopping is fucked beyond belief. What is more frustrating than the cunt-ups that they create are the lengths one has to go to, to get satisfaction, usually by way of reimbursement.  Let's take Friday's events as an example.

I decided to buy some Kleenex toilet rolls, on offer in a multi-pack of 16.  I thought nothing of  putting the large white cube into my trolley, after lifting it from the pallet at the store entrance.  I shopped for half an hour or so, and went to the checkouts as normal.  So far, all was well.

I endured the "Are you okay with your packing?" enquiry from the checkout woman, and suffered the 'small talk' that she for some reason felt obliged to engage in.  The £117 bill was paid by credit card, and I wheeled away the trolley laden with stuff.

I had almost reached my car when I decided to peruse the receipt, and was as frustrated as a cunt in a chastity belt to find that I'd been charged twice for the toilet roll; there were two entries of £4.98 on my receipt.  I did a 180 degree turn and re-entered the store, veering left towards 'Customer Service', expecting to find none of it.  I was correct.

There was one long line of shoppers, some with baskets and some without, which fed two tills, each being operated by a diminutive person in ASDA uniform.  To the left, the Customer Service desk was as vacant as an ASDA employee's common sense shelf.  I queued, and watched the hide-and-seek ritual being played out as customers tried to order cigarettes despite having zero visibility of brands or prices.  I finally got to to the till and explained the double charge.  I was directed to "the other till" and the two assistants did a weird swap manoeuvre.  I was then required to use my credit card to gain the refund, though why the fuck I had to sign a receipt was beyond me.

The whole fiasco took ages.  As I left the store for the second time, I noticed that the enormous red and yellow sign above the toilet rolls declared £4,87, a penny less than what was charged at the checkouts.  These pennies all no doubt add up, and nationally, ASDA must make a fortune through misdeclarations - and a fucking fortune from double billing, and the numerous scanning/pricing errors.

Perhaps next time, when asked "Are you okay with your packing?" by a till operator, I ought to reply:

"Perfectly, thank you.  More importantly, are you happy with your scanning?"

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6.4.15 Tim Krul

Apparently Jamie Carragher and Danny Murphy are not impressed by Tim Krul's actions.  Jermaine Defoe scored a brilliant goal, with the ball zooming past Krul into the top corner of the net.  It was an amazing strike, and Krul congratulated Defoe in the tunnel as they left at half time.  Exactly WHAT is the offence here?  Once upon a time, sportsmanship and decency were a part of the national game, and an accepted part of things in many spheres. Unfortunately there are too many people involved in the world of football, most of whom ought to fuck off.  If a player wants to acknowledge good play then great, and the armchair pundits need to get a life.  Do the likes of Carragher and Murphy want players never to hold out a hand to help an opponent get up, or pat a keeper on the back when he's just make a miraculous stop?

Carragher

"What he did was a mistake.  I wouldn't want to see one of my own team doing it.  It's not good sportsmanship.  Someone without passion for the game might say it is.  When you play a derby game, you don't just play on the day, there is a build-up in the week and everyone is on edge.  You build yourself into a frenzy where you despise the opposition.  At the end of the game you shake hands with everyone, you wouldn't smile."

It is this sort of pundit-bollocks that's contributing to footballers being twats, cunts, cheats and greedy fuckers, in many cases.  The game is in a mess with the amount of money, greed, poor behaviour, thuggery and disrespect for referees all ruining things.  When there is a decent bit of play, then I see no reason for it not to be recognised - by anyone.  This does not equate to a lack of interest, effort or desire to win.  If Carragher seriously wants footballers never to smile, and to "despise the opposition" having built themselves into a "frenzy" then the only likely outcome is hostility, yellow and red cards, and injuries caused by madmen.

Meanwhile, Danny Murphy (the one with the droning voice, who makes Alan Shearer seem animated) should simply shut up, and perhaps concentrate more on paying his taxes.

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4.4.15 The Voice - Final 2015

Wailing Willis and Pointless Marvin introduced us to the final, which included four contestants, two for Ricky, one for Tom and one for Will.  Rita Oral was a spectator this week, and so her meaningless input was for once not going to have any repercussions for a so-called 'artist'.

Sasha kicked us off, singing a ballad while ten people had epileptic fits around her on the stage.  "I Can't Believe What I Did For Love," sang she, but we did not get any clues as to what she actually did.  Ritalin was roused from her coma by Wailing Willis, and made some generic comments in that nauseating style that confirms a fucked-up accent and twang.

Suave Marv was allegedly hanging out in the V-Room, according to Willis. We switched to him for ten seconds, then back to Willis, who introduced Emmanuel.  This all involved more ping-pong than necessary.  I was still reeling at the use of 'suave' while the VT updated us on Emmanuel's life.

Emmanuel sang Somebody That I Used To Know - badly.  Very badly, torturing us for ninety seconds.  "The amazing Emmanuel," drawled Willis, lying overtly to a few million viewers.  "I'm so proud of all the contestants in this show," said Rita, somehow deciding (yet again) that confirmation of her pride was essential.  Stupid biddy.

Lucy seems a nice enough woman, and sang No Surprises, and yet again I was made to wonder how the hell she can be compared with the other three finalists.  This song was shit.  Yes, she sang it well, but it was bollocks, belonging in a show somewhere else.  Will lost the plot about magic, being magical and generally raved about it.  Tom was impressed with her dress, because of course, it's all about the voice.  Ricky (dressed as a waiter) was on a par with Nick Clegg in terms of relevance.

Stevie, in the VT, went back to his high school, for some weird reason, before a visit to the fire station.  He sang I'll Stand By You, and I rather wished he wouldn't.  The threat was carried out, though, and so for ninety seconds, I listened to a warbling pain emanating from his mouth.  Of the four contestants, his voice has the least about it in terms of being different/special/recognisable. "He knew he had something to do, and he did it," said Wilson.  "You came across as a man singing," said Tom. What a twat-of-a-comment, Tom!

Marvin tried to create some value in his presence on the show by interviewing the four finalists in the V-Room, but failed.  The pointless questions gave rise to the cliches and cuntish crap that we've come to expect.  Fortunately his input lasted for just a minute before we switched to Wailing Willing, who confirmed the lines were open for votes to be registered.  The all-important numbers (well, unimportant, I maintain) were put on screen, and then Willis removed a few frequencies from my audible range by wailing some more.

Rita Ora was up next, although first we had to endure all and sundry sucking up to her, and telling us how amazing she is.  Before Kiora appeared on stage, a bloke on the piano confirmed he could not sing and was talentless.  Then she appeared, to deliver some shit in non-harmony with the twat on piano.  I am confident that there was no one in the studio during rehearsals who was brave enough to stand up and call the whole shebang a pile of shit; hence, it was signed off as acceptable for the masses.  It did, though, give me time to go and get another can of lager.  I would gladly hand over a tenner if I could be assured of never ever hearing this bollocks again.  Charles Hamilton is the name to avoid, folks.

Sasha and Tom - She was better than him, but that's not really saying much, eh?  A fucking racket all round; crap song!  Tom really does need to take up the place reserved for him at the donkey sanctuary.

"What is it like doing it with Tom for the second time?" asked Willis. "The first time was incredible, but to do it again!" answered Sasha.  Well, really!

Emmanuel and Ricky - Crazy was the song choice.  Not too bad, actually! Well done.  Signed, Sealed and delivered.  This guy is too nice and humble to get very far, sadly.

Lucy and Will - Some noise from Carmen was offered up (Habanera) but again I was struggling to make any sort of evaluation.  Will,i,am contributed with nothing of any value at all, other than a weird undermining of an operatic performance.  Weird.i.am was certainly on form.  The whole thing was strangely enigmatic, and certainly rather better than Rita Ora and Charles Hamilton.  Oddly okay.

Stevie and Ricky - introduced yet again as "The Hero", I struggled to contain my annoyance.  If your job is a fireman, you are not automatically a 'hero'.  He then proceeded to sing Get Back To Where You Once Belonged, and I wished to cuntin fuck that he would!  Mediocrity was never so fucking mediocre!

Paloma Faith - yawn.  Pronounce your words, woman!

There was a further episode in the "Blow Smoke Up Kiora's Kunt" saga. How absolutely shite.  She is NOT that good, people!

RESULT - Fucking joke!  Sasha and Emmanuel have voices that are more distinctive than Stevie, and the programme is called The Voice.  Lucy and Stevie made the final two - so, the real/proper final then.

The next section was painful as hell, getting us to the moment of truth.  It included yet more sucking up to Kiora.  Then we had to have The Script on stage.

The winner was . . . . . . . Stevie - fucking joke.
Ah well, fewer than 1000 albums is his destiny, as with all past winners of The Voice.

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1.4.15 Andy Townsend of the Month - March

He's smart, he's alive, he's clever.  [AT talking about Wayne Rooney and getting one of the three right]

It's a decent head on that.  [AT commentating on football rather than a pint of beer]

I've no idea why referees don't see that, don't spot that, don't look for that.  [They don't notice, then, AT?]

He's usually much better than that in the gulleys and channels.  [AT talking rubbish about non-existent parts of a football pitch]

They need to drop back and make sure they fill the holes and plug the gaps.  [More shite from AT]

I don't think he was always going to get that.  [An AT classic load of bollocks]

Little balls that are bobbling around in the middle of the park.  [No idea]



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1.4.15 March Quotes of the Month

This has never happened before but these things do happen.  [Garage owner Alan Cherry, after a car went through a wall while undergoing an MOT]

They will look back and see a lot of incidences where they decided to self implode.  [Twat commentating on the Rugby]

First Zayn and now Dermot.  What's happening to the world?  [Stupid Tweet, referencing Zayn leaving 1D and X-Factor losing its host]

Match of the Day - where the English Language goes to die.  [A rather apt extract from a blog by David Hepworth, found during a Google search.  How true]

Spitting, for me, is the worst form of what you can do on a football field.  [Phil Neville]

That is a stonewall penalty.  [Phil Neville, referring to a handball incident that had nothing to do with stone walls or a player being blocked in the style of a stone wall]

There's a bit of poisonous there now.  [The illiterate Phil Neville, meaning 'poison']

That's probably the most simplest of saves.  [Phil Neville, stupid as ever, but sadly not dumb]

I'm sure I'd have remembered it, if you had.  [Debbie, after TMWSC said "I've done you once today"]

The Dynamo keeper, when he's been put under pressure and asked questions, has looked anything but safe.  [Clive Tyldesley trying to outdo Andy Townsend, and by default suggesting a weird commentary on an interrogation rather than a football match]

Four clean sheets in five games is not to be turned your nose up at. [Oxford Manager, Michael Appleton]

You need to push these players a bit more harder.  [Jeremy Guscott, reinventing the English language]

Poor pass - it wasn't anywhere near the bread basket.  [Jonathan Davies commentating during Ireland v Wales rugby]

Wales have an eleven point lead in front.  [Moron commentating on the rugby]

The manager trusts the chairman and the chairman trusts the manager, and vice versa.  [Steve Claridge]

Oh, I do like a leek.  [TMWSC]

He's very self depreciating.  [As opposed to self-deprecating, RR?]

This coming week is looking very quiet indeed.  [The opening of a forecast by Claire Nasir, regarding the weather, yet referring to noise levels]

I'm trying to find the Loch Ness Monster and the rest of Robin Hood. [Ant, referring to pieces of a jigsaw]

That's the Germans for you.  [Dek, with a massively non-pc generalisation, referring to the pilot who flew into a mountain]

I think I can do it; I know I can do it; I just have to do it.  [Paul, on The Big Painting Challenge]

I find that white bread stinks.  [Jess]

She's probably fending off offended people.  [TMWSC regarding Sue's efforts]


It should be noted that Andy Townsend would have featured prominently in this post, but in the end, his numerous outbursts warranted a separate entry all of his own.  Thus, there is an "Andy Townsend of the Month" for March.

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