More Things That Really Annoy Me
I'm sure I must have mentioned it before, but I'll reiterate as it still rankles. Door to door salesmen. If I want to buy something then I go out and buy it don't I, I don't sit and wait for someone to chance by the house who has exactly what I want to sell it to me. Thinking "I really need my drive repaving, I do hope a drive repaving specialist just happens chance by my area sometime soon."
When they knock at the door with the "are you the owner of the house Sir?" bit, I just love to reply "no I'm a burglar, grab hold of these hubcaps whilst I go back for the betamax video will yer pal."
Worse than that of course are the double glazing salesmen. If they were that good they'd be able to tell that we've already got it wouldn't they? That said I did buy some double glazing off one once. We only made six of the repayments and then I cancelled the standing order. When they took me to court I told the judge that the salesman said it would pay for itself after six months.
Telesales are also scum obviously: "Hello and how are you today Sir? Do you know that for just 52 pence a day your loved ones can claim up to forty five quid should you ever be involved in a fatal accident involving a cheese and tomato sandwich?"
Top of the Pops of things that that annoy me though is people who come to stay at your house. Who do they think they are? There's two sorts, the ones that go to bed at half past eight "Johnny and I do like to retire early, don't we dear." Early? Christ the kids haven't even got home from school yet, what's up with you, have another sherry. "No I really mustn't, I've already had one and I'm driving a week next Thursday."
Even worse than that though are the ones that simply won't go to bed. "Any chance of another bottle of Scotch before I retire?" When you're there sat there in your pyjamas as the milkman is coming down the drive.
And then when they do go to bed there's still no respite.
The half eight brigade have incontinence and creep to the bathroom like they're a stealth burglar or an SAS hit squad or something. So you simply can't sleep at all, waiting for the next creek of the floorboards and the coldness of steel at your throat, as the silently go about their dirty business. Meanwhile the "I'll just have one more bottle of Scotch" lot make more row than an epileptic in a bowling alley when they go for a leak.
Next week: bus drivers, ginger kids, nuns and squirrels.
When they knock at the door with the "are you the owner of the house Sir?" bit, I just love to reply "no I'm a burglar, grab hold of these hubcaps whilst I go back for the betamax video will yer pal."
Worse than that of course are the double glazing salesmen. If they were that good they'd be able to tell that we've already got it wouldn't they? That said I did buy some double glazing off one once. We only made six of the repayments and then I cancelled the standing order. When they took me to court I told the judge that the salesman said it would pay for itself after six months.
Telesales are also scum obviously: "Hello and how are you today Sir? Do you know that for just 52 pence a day your loved ones can claim up to forty five quid should you ever be involved in a fatal accident involving a cheese and tomato sandwich?"
Top of the Pops of things that that annoy me though is people who come to stay at your house. Who do they think they are? There's two sorts, the ones that go to bed at half past eight "Johnny and I do like to retire early, don't we dear." Early? Christ the kids haven't even got home from school yet, what's up with you, have another sherry. "No I really mustn't, I've already had one and I'm driving a week next Thursday."
Even worse than that though are the ones that simply won't go to bed. "Any chance of another bottle of Scotch before I retire?" When you're there sat there in your pyjamas as the milkman is coming down the drive.
And then when they do go to bed there's still no respite.
The half eight brigade have incontinence and creep to the bathroom like they're a stealth burglar or an SAS hit squad or something. So you simply can't sleep at all, waiting for the next creek of the floorboards and the coldness of steel at your throat, as the silently go about their dirty business. Meanwhile the "I'll just have one more bottle of Scotch" lot make more row than an epileptic in a bowling alley when they go for a leak.
Next week: bus drivers, ginger kids, nuns and squirrels.
