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This blog is brought to you by the good old British weather. No, really - it was born on a wet, windy Sunday morning, had the sun been shining it might still be no more than a half-formed aspiration. You see, I'd planned to go biking with some friends - which I see as doing my bit for the environment: y'know, pumping out large amounts of burnt hydrocarbons, and cutting a swathe through the flying insect population of southern Scotland (no doubt somewhere sparrows will be starving because their dinner's splattered all over my leathers).

But the weather, it seemed, had other ideas and, not being one of those bikers who particularly enjoys getting soaked and blown into the path of oncoming traffic, I was left with no option but to make good on a promise I'd made Art-Girl the day before: if the biking was called off I'd start a blog. You see, for some reason best known to herself, Art-Girl finds my writing mildly amusing (here's a tip guys: if you wanna get into a girl's knickers you need neither Donald Trump's bank balance nor Linford Christie's lunchbox, all you need is Woody Allen's sense of humour...though there's always a risk he'll sue you for copyright violation if he finds out you're using it). Anyway, for some months Art-Girl had been suggesting I start blogging and now, thanks to that most capricious manifestation of the Random - the British weather, I have.

This blog does exactly what it says on the tin. Here you'll find my meditations, observations and rants on all sorts of things - some utterly trivial, some deadly serious. You'll find wit (just maybe), wisdom (unlikely, but anything's possible), derision (almost certainly) and mockery (guaranteed) - sometimes all in one sentence. You may find your favourite sacred cows not just mocked but stunned, slaughtered, butchered and served up medium-rare with a nice merlot. You may well find some robust language or other cause for offence. Well, if anything you read here offends you in any way I cordially invite you to stop reading and bugger off! That's what 'grown-ups' do in free societies - if they don't like it they don't read it or watch it. Freedom of expression is an absolute and I'm under no obligation to make sure I don't offend you (whoever you are). I won't mock your race, sex, age, disability or sexuality (well, not unless you're into something really pervy) but all else is fair game.

Now, if you still want to read this blog just come this way...

Monday, 7 June 2010

Who needs 'Watchdog'?

Hello Gentle Reader, 

I'm sure we can all tell our tales of incompetent utility companies (let's not even get started on the time my gas supplier decided I'd used £5000 of gas in a single quarter and swiped £1000 out of my bank account - without even telling me - thus causing my mortgage payment to bounce. Bastards!!). Well, I was sorting through old correspondence at the weekend and came across a letter I wrote to NPower three years ago. It speaks for itself, so what can I say but...enjoy!

16 March 2007

Acct no: xxxxxxxxxx

Dear xxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxx

Thank you for your final reminder (enclosed) about the outstanding £71.68 on the above account. I doubt very much, however, that this will greatly worry my late father. When I called in January to close the account I pointed out that the reason for closure was my father’s death, yet you continue to send mail addressed to him. The bill is in the hands of his executor and solicitors, and will no doubt be paid in due course. Meanwhile, I doubt an organisation as large as NPower will become insolvent for the want of £71.68.

A few other points worthy of mention: my street name is spelled wrongly, and the spelling of ‘Edinburgh’  (Edunbooaargh) is laughable – clearly literacy is not a significant requirement for your call centre staff.

Additionally, your 'Customer Operations' section sent my late father an extremely generous offer (also enclosed) that you could supply him with both gas and electricity ‘at your new address’ at an annual discount of £60. I’d like to decline this on behalf of my late father, though I am impressed that NPower is extending its operations into the hereafter. That’s the sort of entrepreneurial spirit this country needs. 
 
However, all is not rosy with this offer: you have managed to relocate my street to Hainstock Moor (which is 200 miles away in North / West Yorkshire); Hainstock Moor has been been shifted to Edinburgh (spelled correctly this time – well done!), some 200 miles to the north; Edinburgh has been relocated to West Yorkshire, which is, apparently, in an Edinburgh postcode! I haven’t seen such creative geography since the film ‘Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves’, where Kevin Costner and Morgan Freeman landed at the white cliffs of Dover, crossed Hadrian’s Wall at lunchtime, and reached Nottingham in the evening.

Chin chin

Barguest


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