People that think Messi aināt all that
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Getting up earlier than normal (sacrificing sleep), to travel 45 minutes to meet a client (whoās cancelled the previous two meetings at ridiculously short notice, i.e. I was already almost there) ā only to be told on arrival āIām terribly sorry sir, Mr. Cunt-chops has asked me to tell you that he is extremely busy again today, and is unfortunately not going to be able to see you this morningā.
āThatās okā says I ā āplease tell Mr. Cunt-chops to look for a new Consultant, as Iām too busy to waste my time travelling to not see him again. Iāll invoice him for my wasted time.ā
Tosser. 
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Originally posted by @Jack-Schitt
Getting up earlier than normal (sacrificing sleep), to travel 45 minutes to meet a client (whoās cancelled the previous two meetings at ridiculously short notice, i.e. I was already almost there) ā only to be told on arrival āIām terribly sorry sir, Mr. Cunt-chops has asked me to tell you that he is extremely busy again today, and is unfortunately not going to be able to see you this morningā.
āThatās okā says I ā āplease tell Mr. Cunt-chops to look for a new Consultant, as Iām too busy to waste my time travelling to not see him again. Iāll invoice him for my wasted time.ā
Tosser.
TwatĀ“s who organise meetings, and then send a lackey along who has no authority to make a decision. So the whole process has to be gone through again 3 days later when the person that can sign off on it is available.
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Lol, no way.
Getting a voicemail message from Mr. Cunt-chops, saying how āterribly sorry he is for messing me around, and is there any chance I could come back later this afternoon when things are a bit quieter?ā
Returning his call, only to be put through to his own voicemail.
My reply?
āNo.ā
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People that refer to Council Tax as āPoll Taxā - Itās been Council Tax for well over 20 fuckinā years now and the Poll Tax only lasted for 3 years before it was abolished FFS.
Luckily I only ever paid 1 bill for council tax the year it was introduced, then never paid it again nor the MrsĀ“s and they never asked for it 
Local authority staff who are clueless.
You try and speed them up with decisions butā¦
NOTHING.
EVER.
HAPPENS.
Some of them could not get a proper job in the real world where there are deadlines because they have never had to work in a normal manner.
Fuck me Iāve see glaciation occur faster than some of those fuckers being decisive about having tea or coffee.
When the Rat Race finally crushes my spirit, I fully intend to move into the public sector where I will be the most curmudgeonous old sod possible. Hopefully they will put me in a customer facing role, where I will seek to inflict even greater misery on the world in general.
Rally boy will be my first victim
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I have to say, I share Jack Schittās impatience with people that fuck you about. Iāve recently done 80 hours of travel/on-site work so that I could be with my customers. I got 90 minutes from them.
However, I dislike being fucked about in the abstract too, which is why I get so cross with Bletchās piss-poor estimates of his likely physical presence on a match day 
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CB, Iām not even one of the customers, Iām a professional partner and I canāt get any sense out of them!
All you will have to do once you join isā¦well, nothing.
And make sure you do it slowly and badly.
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Im not going to do nothing, whereās the fun in that. I 'm going to make shit goes backwards. After a call with me you are going to be three weeks back down the path you have already walked. I am going to be evil.
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That might work for you and I see the fun of taking projects backwards, I really do, but I fear that your colleagues will find that too taxing and possibly beyond them.
These are the fuckers who wear their ID badges when they go out at lunchtime because they canāt work out how to take them off.
Rather than anarchy they will be more suited to sitting on their arses, sellotaping their initials onto their staplers and looking out of windows.
Cleaners who clean the alleyway floors just before teabreaks / lunchbreaks ensuring they are wet and slippery. Then moan at you for walking on the bloody thing. What do they expect me to do fucking fly?
they have hours inbetween meal breaks and after working hours to do this, but no every fucking day 11:30 and 2:45 lets ensure that the slipping hazard is put down and moan at the poor souls who have to walk on it to get fed and watered.
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So kitchengate continued on Friday.
BTW this is the egg cooker that the new member of staff has brought in.
On Friday cheese womanās lunch was thrown away at 3.30pm by the person on the rota for cleaning the fridge out that week (as people seem unable to deal with their own left over food). So the woman starts asking where itās gone. We find out what it looked like. The person owned up to binning it. It turns out it was 2 pieces of toast and then also some eggs in a crisp packet. Who puts eggs in a crisp packet?
PS - KRG I have no issue with people bringing in their leftovers for lunch. But I think maybe we shouldnāt have kitchen and food areas in the office. Have a door between them thatās all.
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Originally posted by @PhilippineSaint
Cleaners who clean the alleyway floors just before teabreaks / lunchbreaks ensuring they are wet and slippery. Then moan at you for walking on the bloody thing. What do they expect me to do fucking fly?
What, you mean you donāt!?
Frankly, I think that is extremely inconsiderate of you mate.
You should be ashamed of yourself.
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Does that mean you change to CB Fry? 
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Having a flatmate that spends their entire life festering in their room, sniping away at people that have the temerity to live a conventional life.
Oh, Iām terribly sorry for daring to open and close doors or get up in the morning. But obviously itās OK for them to scream into their PS4 headset for hours every evening and subject me to their shitty music - to the point where itās unbearable to be in my room half of the time.
And then when I relocate to the living room thereās bitching and moaning about ātaking it overā? When you never leave your fetid little filth-pit to use that area yourself?
TL;DR: flatmates that contribute nothing yet make you spend your life treading on eggshells. In the fucking sea with 'em.
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Incidentally the above situation culminated in a massive slanging match last night (well, along with a number of other bits of shittiness that there isnāt time to go into on here - ask me at pre-match drinks).
Given that I only have 4 months left on the tenancy agreement (and I have little interest in seeing said flatmate again), anybody have any interesting ātacticsā for dealing with the situation? 
The Fred West optionā¦
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End of season party at antās house then?
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