Wednesday, 28 July 2010

You're call is very important to us...

I was quite excited recently, by the prospect of getting a new PC, as my last PC decided to die on me (the coroners report suspected foul play, but it was generally considered a suicide)

The place I rot at 9-5 decided to give me my old work PC, so I took it home and installed it, but alas had no speakers, so BBC Iplayer would have to wait till next payday... next payday came and I went out and got speakers, set them up, and then... my Internet died.

I got on the blower, and then the phone, to Talk Talk, in a desperate attempt to restore my computers Internet, and had to wait ten minutes for a guy to pick the phone up... which brings me to the subject of this particular rambling.

Hold Music!

I don't mind hold music per say, in fact sometimes I sing along to it with glee, however, when the song is the same song, repeated again... and again.... and again... and again... and the only break you get is a soulless computer recording telling you that someone will pick up if you just hold on a few more moments, it gets pretty annoying pretty fast.

Case in point: Talk Talk.

Now, they've spent a certain amount of money to secure the song "Neon Rainbow" for their advertising. So I can appreciate that they want to use it as much as possible. But tell me where the logic is in putting it on a loop to customers who will be calling with a problem or complaint?

I mean, these people are already going to be annoyed before the phone call starts. The service they're paying for isn't being done and now they're going to have to waste their time and money contacting the technical support. So some bright spark, who was the guy who secured the rights for the song, thought "I know, let's play that music over and over whilst they wait, that won't annoy anyone right?"

It's not just Talk Talk, Lloyds play their "oh, oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oooooh" music on a constant loop, and believe me the song gets pretty crazy halfway through.

So surely the constant repetition of the same song over and over will exacerbate the situation? Or maybe that's what the company wants? To screw with you even more? I intend to infiltrate one of these organisations and find out. But until then, I suggest singing along at the top of your voice to the music!

I just hope Talk Talk sort out my internet soon, as I don't think I can take one more round of "Neon Rainbow", I think that'll be what pushes me over the edge and sends me on that killing spree that a gypsy warned me about when I was ten.

Monday, 19 July 2010

Wales Week : Adventure Golf

Last week I was in Wales, with a limited edition collection of friends. I will be putting up a few of the tales from our week in wales, because, nothing else happens in my life now I've killed my arch-nemesis... I mean... now he's disappeared without a trace...

Anyway, this brings us onto my Welsh adventure to Rhyl or Rhyll as the street vendors spell it, the dirty bastards.

Royston, who had lead the expedition into the wilderness that was Wales, had stated that his great Aunt Confucius, always went to the legendary land of Rhyl on holiday. I joked that perchance this was due to it being a swingers resort... he was not amused. So we went off in search of Rhyl, with it's beautiful sandy beaches, and rivers of gold.

It turns out that there are rivers of gold, but that gold is urine. Ryhl is a classic British sea-side resort, I.e. it's shit. There are more penny pushing arcade machines than there are people, something that I raised with a local policeman as something he should keep an eye on in case of Robotic Rebellion!

As we walked around this picturesque town, we happened upon a crazy golf attraction... entitled "ADVENTURE GOLF!"

"Hazar" I screamed with glee, as I enjoy golf in it's crazy variety, and with a name like "Adventure Golf" I was sure I'd have a good time!

The very name "Adventure Golf" sent a thousand ideas through my head as to what to expect. I thought, that I would feel like a fabled knight, journeying through distant lands, over perilous monster infested swamps and jungles, to strange cities populated with crazed magicians and riddling witches, then finally my journey would end when I slay the fiendish dragon and rescue the damsel in distress.

My idea of adventure was a little off the mark compared to Rhyl's imaginative imaginers! There idea of adventure was to put a rock in the middle of the course, or add a hump, or two rocks.

So yeah, it was... pathetic. However, we still had fun, and I made it a little more interesting by hitting the ball as hard as I could, and then spending the next five minutes routing through a bush (Careful) to find my ball.

So, if you find yourself in the wonderful land of Rhyl and fancy some adventure golf, I propose that you pay the admission fee, then hit the ball at one of the employees and try to flee over the course. Now that would be an adventure!

More on the Wales Week to follow!

Wednesday, 7 July 2010

The Shambling Man of Rugby

I've come across some strange sights whilst walking places in my time, but Rugby has recently produced something very odd indeed.

A few weeks back, I was on my way home from my daily toil, when I came across this strange fellow. As I was walking through town, I saw a man, in a dressing gown with a cooler box.

The cooler box was on the floor, and the man was pushing it forward. It must have been heavy as he was moving at speeds of 3! Shambling along with the box for a few minutes then stopping and resting.

I watched him for about fifteen minutes, before I set back on my long journey home. I thought to myself that this strange man must have some form of mental health issue or was doing some invisible theatre, but I thought no more of it afterwards as this kind of stuff happens to me a lot.

However, the following week, I was nearing my homestead, when what should I see in front of me?! The Shuffler! This time shuffling past peoples houses.

I crossed the street as I wasn't sure if he would lash out at passersby, and watched as he pushed the cooler till he tired out, then he sat on it. The creepiest thing about this however was he was sitting on the cooler facing some one's house, and would have been able to see straight through their front window.

I went home and told my long suffering lady wife all about this strange man, but she dismissed it as here say! The fool!

So, this brings me to my last sighting... yesterday, he was waiting for a bus, sitting on his cooler.
I wondered how he'd get the cooler on the bus, as it seemed so heavy that he wouldn't be able to lift it. I mused with the prospect of asking him what was in the cooler, but then I thought, what if what's in the cooler is the last person who asked him what's in the cooler? So I left it alone.

I've asked a few people if they've spotted The Shuffler, but so far, I'm the only person I'm aware of who's seen this odd fellow... I'm beginning to think maybe he's in my head, a sign that my already fragile mind is imploding, or maybe it's me from the future!? That's his time machine he's pushing around??

I intend to investigate further, hopefully finding out that he's just a sorry soul who has mental health issues as oppose to a future version of myself, or a serial killer. If I can snap him on my camera, I'll put up a picture!

Stay tuned for more info :)

Tuesday, 6 July 2010

my T4 on da bee-atch

Well, anyone who knows me (who isn't imaginary) will know my music taste is a little old fashioned... I like cheese and classic rock. So imagine how out of place I was expecting to feel at T4 on the beach when I went down on Sunday?

It was a good and a bad day at the same time, I enjoyed myself, yet had moments of "wtf".

There were thousands at T4, and we all had to queue on the beach to be let in. When we were halfway to the entrance and surrounded by excitable teenagers, one of them decided that it was all to much and fainted, hitting her head on the way down. So being the respectable gentleman that I am, I decided to help out and try and signal a first aider... however, there were none to be seen. I turned round to the throng of children behind me and shouted out "Can someone shout for first aid" hoping to get some form of Chinese whispers that would bring a first aider. However they just stared blankly at my feeble attempt to assert myself.

So it was up to Adamicus the 3rd to save the day, using my expert ability of getting through crowds, I barged my way through the masses until I was free of the crowd. Then I ran to the only man I could see who had a walkie talkie to get him to get help. The man, who was standing on a wall filming the throngs of teens looked at me distastefully when I told him someone had fainted and then half heatedly called through the walkie talkie to some first aiders to come help, then he went back to filming the kids... he might have actually been a paedophile on 2nd thoughts.

Anyway, I was able to get back to the girl, but by that time she was already dead. OK, she wasn't but that would have been a better anecdote.

The festival had N-Dubz, Professor Green and Jedward... so you can imagine my joy at the prospect of seeing them perform. However, I did get to see Louie Spence, who was amusing as always, then saw The Hoosiers who's old stuff was good, but there new clubbing mixes were just bad. The musical highlight for me was Plan B, who I've enjoyed for a while now and proves some chavs can sing! But seriously, a great live performance even if he did get PWNED in Adulthood.

The weirdest moment for me was when I went to use the toilets. There was a large amount of porta-loo's about, and in the middle of a square of them were make-shift urinals. So rather than being enclosed in an AIDS ridden Tardis, I decided to frequent the outdoor urinal. It would have been okay, but halfway through my useage, I happened to look up and made eye contact with a couple who were watching me... creeped me right out.

The way out of the festival was BULL SHIT AND MATCH! Basically, you park on the beach when you get there, and have helpful attendants showing you where to park... but when T4 is over, it is a cluster fuck to get off the beach before the tide comes in. There were about 15 lines of cars trying to get out of one tiny exit, with no help. It took us probably 2 hours to get off the beach, before even attempting the journey back.

The saddest sight I have ever seen was on the way home, where I noticed a young teens car had broken down, and as we drove past, he stood there with puppy dog eyes holding a piece of paper that read "Mechanic ?"

I did the only decent thing and murdered him before the wolves got him. It was the perfect end to a so/so day.