Dear Carphone Warehouse: Fuck you.

If I don’t rant about this now, it will result in a heart attack at 35.
Two months ago someone from the Carphone Warehouse rang me about upgrading my IPhone. They said I could have unlimited texts and 600 minutes for £25 a month, plus £150 cashback (via cheque). I was happy with this (obviously!) and agreed. I also got an email confirming the plan.
The next month I noticed my bill was still the same. I called 02, who are my provider, and they said they had not heard from the Cuntphone Cockhouse and ‘maybe it was a hoax call’. I called the Carphone Warehouse (just those two words make me want to stab myself in the eye) and after trying to pass me back to O2 again, they eventually checked my records and saw the call had taken place. They assured me that the information would be passed to 02 ‘over the weekend’ and that my cheque had ‘already been issued’.
I left it a week and called 02 again. I am now in the process of moving house, so very stressed anyway. They had heard nothing from the carphone warehouse. They offered to change the plan for me direct, but then I wouldn’t get the cheque, so tried carphone warehouse again. After someone trying to pass me back to O2 once again, they finally called up my notes. This person said there had been ‘a connection error’ and neither the upgrade (nor the cheque- no shit) had been issued. To add to this shitstorm of uselessness, I had to go to a Carphone Cunthouse store to sort out the problem! When I asked why I had not been told that the previous week, he said ‘if you’d called me, I would have told you that.’ Apparently my whole account was set up wrong and needed to be reissued. By this time, two months have passed and I’m losing money on my bill (as I was texting as if my plan was ‘unlimited’.) When I said I would just go back to 02 and get their upgrade, the guy said ‘you cant do that because we own the phone’.
It gets better. On Monday I trundled down to the Carphone Twatshop and the shop was closed with a sign stuck in the window saying ‘back shortly’. I stood there for ten minutes in the cold for the guy to come out and say very rudely ‘we’re closed.’ When I said I’d been standing there 10 minutes he said ‘I’ve only been gone for 1 minute’. Must have been a long one minute because in that time another customer had driven up, stood chatting to me for five minutes, tried to call the number on the front of the shop, then given up and gone again.
After this I sent off an email and today the Princess of Carphone Cuntheads emailed back to say ‘you still have to go in the store, and your cheque is for £60.’ She barely addressed ANY of my problems.
Hilariously, I then went back to the shop where I got told (by quite a nice man, oddly) the offer I got was ' a retention offer which WAS ONLY AVAILABLE VIA PHONE! I know, it’s funny, isn’t it?
When I started crying again they said that basically I should leave the carphone warehouse and get my billing via 02, as they could not do the upgrade for me. They said I now 'own the phone' contrary to the guy on the phone I spoke to who said I'd have to give the phone back if I got my billing through 02! Honestly, there might as well be a Carphone Warehouse magic 8 ball that you go and shake for answers for all the continuity of information you get.
I still have no fucking idea what I’m doing. If I ever got that cheque I think I’d drop down dead. The ironic part is I didn't even ring to ask for an upgrade in the first place: THEY RANG ME!
Having to deal with shit like this genuinely makes me want to commit suicide. The thought of another 50 years of this bullshit makes me just want to go and inject some heroin and be done with it. Then I wouldn’t even have an IPhone, I could just sell it for crack.

Equality... maybe in the next world

Was incensed by this 'lighthearted article' in the Daily Hate today by no-one's favourite horse-faced harridan Amanda Platell (I think the usual policy of not attacking people's personal appearance can be waived when discussing someone who makes a living from doing exactly that in the most disgusting way possible).
Amanda has written an article standing up for poor beleaguered men, and adverts taking the mick out of them (ironically whilst posting images of decades worth of sexually-insulting adverts aimed at women). And it's not like sexist adverts against women have stopped, as anyone who saw the recent(ish) BT advert with that plod from My Family on and his girlfriend going 'I lost the folder'- as if even merely glancing at a computer if you're a woman causes the entire hard-drive to spontaneously combust. Very subtle.
And what about that advert where that guy is watching the football and ordering is girlfriend to get his dinner? I don't know what that's for, but it offended me.
Platell goes on; 'As a society, we have become so institutionally sexist against men that it is now accepted practice to treat them as secondclass citizens. ' Oh well, not to worry, in the developing world women are still being stoned to death for not being virgins on their wedding night, so it's all swings and roundabouts, hey? And presumably 'in our society' the pay gap miraculously closed overnight and all the battered women's refuges were closed, and half naked men are appearing on Page 3 of The Sun now, yeah? How's that for a bit of role reversal? Gotta love equality!
She continues; 'On a more serious note, think of the raft of legislation that has been put in place to benefit women, and indeed positively discriminate in favour of them, often at the expense of male interests.' Like what? She doesn't offer a single example! Is she, a working woman, referring to maternity rights? (which incidentally do not apply to childless women- I can't personally think of any benefits I have over my male colleagues- and statistics have shown time and time again that men get paid more). If she is referring to maternity leave, then the implication is clear: get back in the kitchen and raise those babies, and keep your mouth shut, just like in the 'good old days'.
Does it not occur to this thick, humourless excuse for a woman that women have been ridiculed and abused for THOUSANDS of years? So now my boyfriend has to watch an advert where men are made fun of every once in a while. I think he can handle it. I don't think he needs you rushing to his defence, you traitor to your own sex, and a traitor to causes actually worth fighting for.
Even if men were routinely raped, beaten, mocked and paid less than women for the next ten thousand years it still wouldn't scratch the surface of levelling the playing-field. Doesn't she get that? And i'm not saying that I want that to happen, I'm saying that a couple of stupid adverts isn't exactly a big price to pay for a zillion years of supremacy.
I'm not even going to go into the bigoted drivel she spouts after that about any given minority, but her claim to speak for 'most people' is just plain offensive.
(Not) funnily enough, there was also a small story about a woman being sexually assaulted by a migrant, in an area where another woman was also raped. I can't find the link, but a police spokesman said (and I quote)... 'We constantly advise women not to walk alone in that area.' Can you see how insidious that language is? Oh, I see. So it's the victim's fault for being in that area! Silly woman, what was she thinking? Here was I thinking it was a free country, here was I thinking that the police might actually do something to protect women in a dodgy area, not wag their finger and go 'well, we did warn you...'
Equality... you're right, Amanda, we're far from it. And you disgust me.

BT= Idiots

Exitainment reserves the right to go a bit Watchdog, but only on occasion. Did you hear Anne Robinson's coming back? Hurrah, she has ended the Campbell tyranny. Aw, I kinda liked him a bit though. And Julia. Not that charisma-void android woman off the One Show though.
Anyway! This month my BT bill came for three times the usual amount; not surprising as it was quarterly, when normally I pay monthly. I called up to be told I had set up the quarterly direct debit! That must have been the other side of my split personality, right? So can I change it back to monthly, which I have been paying happily for the past year? No.
I can however pay the quarterly amount back in three lumps. But if I change the direct debit now 'people will get confused and it will be a whole lot of hassle'. When I got a bit angry, he said 'I'm working with you, can you work with me?' No because I've worked all fucking day and I just want life to run as it was before someone pressed the idiot button at BT towers! What does BT stand for anyway, Bastard Twats?
So now I have to wait until the 17th august to reinstate my monthly direct debit, for no particular reason I can ascertain (except he couldn't be fucked).
Conclusion: BT are wankers. Oh and their call-back system is nice in theory, but if your battery goes, don't expect them to ring you back a couple of minutes later, because they DON'T.
And no I DON'T want to take your customer survey, here's my thoughts, though, you can have them for free!
And relax.

Rant: The London Paper- Make-up on the tube (shock horror!)

Firstly, I hate the columns in the London Paper. You are not a writer because you think you’ve made some genius point about something stupid that no one outside London cares about anyway. You can’t write. You’re not funny. You're a stereotype. But you have ENRAGED me, thus, I will reply here, on my own terms, in my fantabulous blog.
Yesterday one of the readers wrote a lazy column about the so-awful-it-must-be-stopped-before-someone-dies INJUSTICE of people putting make up on on the tube. Except of course it’s not ‘people’ who do that, it’s women. A woman hating on other women! Well I never, what a shock. Women deal in misogyny so beautifully these days that we hardly need men to do it for us.
Apart from the fact the column is badly-written (that’s a given), I do not understand the complaint. I literally cannot understand it whatsoever. Talk of ‘modesty’ is a cloak for oppression as far as I’m concerned. This dimwit compares putting on make up to ‘cleaning your teeth’ on the tube. I’d like to see you try it, darling. (Ooh I came over all Littlejohn then, pet!) ‘Bulging make up bags!’ Whatever next? Bulging rucksacks full of bombs would be preferably, presumably. Also, ‘like wildfire’ is the laziest description ever. Don't even ATTEMPT to write if this is the kind of crap you are going to churn out.
If anything, I actually think I should be COMMENDED for putting my make up on on the tube. I’d like to see you do liquid eyeliner in the exact five seconds the train becomes stationary. In fact, I think it’s sexy when I see women putting make up on on the tube. I think they look cool, and it’s fascinating to see people’s routines. If you’re being ‘subjected to it’; try looking at something else. Read a book, you idiot. You don’t need to worry about me poking my eye out; I do this every morning, just to annoy clucking bores like you.
Things I don’t like to look at on the tube; other people’s armpits, babies, people kissing, people picking their nose, people eating KFC, JKFC and PFC, sanctimonious people tutting at someone putting a bit of lipstick on, people reading their papers on someone else’s back, people turning up their shit RnB music on their crappy mp3 players. Do you hear me complaining? Yes you do, but only because you have driven me to it!
I don’t WANT to get up early to put make up on. I want to stay in bed for five minutes longer. What kind of sadist wants to get out of bed in the mornings? I hate waiting at platforms, so if I can do my mascara whilst you stand there like a numpty fretting about how you’re going to squeeze into the next carriage, who wins? I got up late, and I’m filling in time, not getting stressed. I'm also small enough to fit into that tiny gap in front of you. Sweet.
As for the point that we are ‘ruining the illusion’, oh dear; are you the type of person who won’t let your boyfriend see you without make up on? Feminism lives! Sex with the lights off, is it?It’s not an illusion in my case, I don’t wipe my make up off at night and turn into a gargoyle, I don’t trowel it on to hide something. It’s merely a quick, painless enhancement.
‘White wine spritzers’- somebody shoot me. Also that last paragraph makes no sense either. Who are you, Bridget Jones?
I admit this is a particular hot topic of mine at the moment; I recently had a row on a messageboard about it (yeah, I don’t get out much, because people like the person who wrote this column are everywhere)! Morrissey, on one of his many underrated b-sides, sang ‘If you don’t like me, don’t look at me. There must be somebody else who can take your gaze away.’ And I couldn’t agree more. Look at some braindead bloke instead. You'll still be getting off alone because you're uptight and annoying.