Posts Tagged ‘shit that annoys me’
Friday, January 15th, 2010
Dear Cool People of the world who use Cool Handshakes,
I am not one of you. I don’t know the Cool Handshake you are trying to do. I won’t notice that you are a surfer dude, and that you are going to try the one with the vertical thumb.
If you are a hipster and try to ‘bump fists’ with me, I will grab your fist and try to shake it.
I once tried a Cool Handshake, and ended up gripping the tips of a stranger’s fingers as though I was about to kiss his hand. For my next handshake, I opted for traditional, but was met with a non-traditional. I can’t win.
From now on, I am going to closely inspect your hand before I shake it. Do not be afraid, I am merely determining which handshake should be deployed. Do not attempt to change the handshake half-way through, as I may end up standing beside you holding your elbow.
Kind Regards,
Afe
P.S. Handshake fail
Tags: shit that annoys me
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Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008
Shit! This coding stuff can be hard, sometimes. I’ve spent about 5 hours trying to nut out some CRAPPY WEBSITE MENU PROBLEM and I’m ready to kill somebody. Instead of murder, I’m going to try writing here as therapy.
I think I need to buy a better chair. I’m sitting in a $2 wooden chair and it’s just not good for my posture. I find myself curling up into ridiculous positions and twisting my legs around constantly to stay comfortable. Me needs a chair. Oh, and a flat screen monitor.
Tags: shit that annoys me
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Saturday, January 19th, 2008
The Cambridge-educated dog has a hangover. I could tell he was drunk last night because he fell asleep in the garden for two hours on the way home before I collected him and tucked him into his bed at 4am. Teenagers, what can you do? It’s not unusual for the dog to weakly demand bacon and eggs after a night on the turpentine, so I’ve prepared a lightly scrambled number which I’m currently keeping warm in the oven. I’ve also kept a secret stash of PG Tips for just this occasion which should please him no end.
25th - We wake up in the wee-smelling room and wish each other Merry Christmas. A flurry of present-giving ensues, and I discover that Trish has bought me a Pink Floyd t-shirt which rocks throughly. Sadly the t-shirt does not fit, and I throw it back in her face. We must get a larger one, I say.
This is the first Christmas we will ever have without our families, so we have a couple of activities planned. Christmas lunch at the Rockefeller centre, and ice-skating at Bryant park. We’d both called our families the night before to catch them on Christmas day, and after brief delay-ridden conversations we felt sad not to be together.
I’d had some trouble with the wireless internet, so after a shower I decided to go and speak to the manager about it. Big mistake. The manager is clearly not happy about having to work on Christmas day, and tells me to come back later. I oblige, and after returning half an hour later, I find him in an equally unsociable mood.
My quiet determination to speak to him about the internet seems to make him wildly angry, and after giving me our new room key and telling me to “go to my room”, I tell him I’m happy to wait at the counter until he’s finished checking in his other guests. At this point I discover it’s apparently considered extremely rude in New York to stand too close to the counter while you are waiting to speak to someone. In front of other guests and staff, the manager begins an angry verbal tirade which escalates from irritation to the threat of physical violence within a matter of seconds.
Being a mild-mannered Aussie, unused to the cut-throat world of hotel customer service, I am shocked from the beginning and cannot find the words to speak. My mouth drops open as I watch his large mouth flap, serving up plate after plate of venomous monologue. My stunned mullet approach seems to make him more angry, and he gives me a detailed description of my rudeness as well as a detailed account of How Good He Has Been To Us Since We Arrived.
I manage to interject a few meaningless statements, such as “I don’t understand”, “What is happening?”, and “Why are you being so aggressive?”, but to no avail. At one point he rises slowly from his chair, and being a 6″5′ African American, his intention is clear - he wants to intimidate me. He demands the room key back and gives me a few tut-tuts like an old tuck shop lady. He seems to have gotten his Christmas anger out now, and things settle back down as I walk slowly backwards away from the counter.
I return three minutes later, still shocked, and he is a different person. He returns my room key and apologises. I am still lost for words, and only manage to tell him that I am upset. Nothing can describe my experience that day, and I cannot tell him that even in the army I have never been spoken to like that. Customer service clearly has a different meaning in New York.
Unfortunately the experience stays with me for the whole day. After lengthy discussions with Trish, we decide that the man is an idiot, a bully and may possibly have mental problems. Later in the day we look up online reviews of the hotel and there are pages and pages of complaints about the manager, which say he has yelled at, ripped off, and physically threatened many guests in the past. The worst thing about the situation is that there is nobody to complain to.
We try to put the morning’s experience behind us and leave the hotel for Manhattan. There is not much happening in my mind apart from a re-run of the incident, but I’m looking forward to Christmas lunch. We take a few photos of the ice skating and giant Christmas tree at the Rockefeller Centre and wander around the cold streets. I’m surprised at how many people there are around on Christmas Day - again, it almost seems like business as usual.
Our three-course lunch at the Rock Cafe’ is delicious, and there is a fantastic and mesmerising view of the ice skating from our table. During the main meal, the ice is emptied of people, and a lesbian couple with a small child get engaged. The man jumps on the ice smoothing machine and does laps before letting the herd back on.
After lunch, we head over to Bryant Park and check out the free ice skating. Unfortunately the line is about two miles long, so we ditch the original plan and decide (surprise, surprise) to go to the movies instead, like good Americans. We see Charlie Wilson’s War, which is an entertaining film with mixed messages about war.
And thus concludes my emotionally turbulent Christmas in New York. I’m quite certain we ate something that night, but I can’t remember what. It may have been delicious.
Tags: shit that annoys me, super magical trip of joy
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Wednesday, September 26th, 2007
My first day back at work was quite a pleasant experience. My old workmates greeted me enthusiastically, and I think I’ll settle in quite well. I just need to find a good sleeping spot under my desk. JUST KIDDING OK GUYS, I WORK REALLY HARD.
Anyway, I decided to go back to my old healthy habit of taking a stroll to the park at lunch every day and finding a grassy spot to relax, read, and chill out. I was contentedly sitting and nibbling my lunch when I suddenly discovered that there was a hyperactive dog trying to eat my face and sandwich.
“No no, you silly dog,” I admonished politely. My request was only met with more vigorous slobbering, jumping, and pesky behaviour by the stocky mutt, which caused my eyebrows to furrow deeply and my buttocks to clench in deep consternation. I could feel the anger rising within me. I reached for the dagger concealed under my trouser leg, but I thought better of it and decided to opt for diplomacy. As I saw the dog’s owner sauntering towards me, I enquired as to whether the dog would mind buggering off and letting me finish my lunch.
“He’s just being friendly,” explained the owner with a rather disinterested look.
“Friendly he may be, but he will feel the sharp pain of death at the end of my dagger if he does not cease and desist this madness immediately!”, I shouted.
The owner became slightly perturbed, and whistled at the dog, who heeded him not, continuing his furry and slobbery barrage. It was only when I rose to my feet and threatened the dog with vigorous stamping and gesticulation that he began to understand my feelings about our unsolicited afternoon wrestling match. As he let out a last slobbery snort and scurried away, I could have sworn I saw a look of confused disappointment pass across his furry little face.
And now, as I lay tossing and turning in my bed, I hear a little whimper in the cold September wind, and a furry flash catches my sleepy eye, and I float to slumber, wondering what has become of me.
Tags: shit that annoys me
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Thursday, June 28th, 2007
T minus thirty-one hours until my parents come. I find myself hoping against hope that London weather will be nice on the weekend, but it’s not looking hopeful.
BBC says the weather will be shit with a sprinkling of shitfulness. God damn you, stupid English weather. Whenever I try to do something fun, you try to ruin my life.
Tags: shit that annoys me
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Monday, June 4th, 2007
I think I’ve farted out better logos than this.
Tags: shit that annoys me
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Monday, May 21st, 2007
I have some serious questions about the level of customer service in London. Whether we’re being yelled at by the guy serving coffee at Starbucks, or being stared at vacantly by the girl at Burger King, we seem to be continually confronted with the same thing - unprofessional, shitty staff. They’re either ignoring us, bitching with other staff members, or giving us dirty looks for asking them to actually do something.
One of these days’ I’m going to throw my burger / coffee / self at somebody.
Tags: shit that annoys me
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Thursday, August 25th, 2005
Adding to his growing list of misdemeanors, the horse from hell which is currently ruling my property with an iron fist has recently;
- been discovered standing in our living room
- eaten my dead grandfather’s sapling rubber tree which was of great sentimental value to my family
- bitten my wife on the stomach
- persisted in knocking down my solar garden lights until I admitted defeat and removed them
So it’s time I exacted my revenge. Despite the urgings of that sick bastard Koala Mentala and the influence of my friend John the Dog Eater, I will probably not kill the horse and suck clean his bones as was my first instinct. Instead I should just call the owner and get her to come remove the fiend.
.
Tags: shit that annoys me
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Monday, August 22nd, 2005
I went clothes shopping on the weekend, and it opened my eyes to how completely shithouse mens’ fashion is looking these days. Every bastard walking around the shopping centre looks the same - cockatoo hairstyle - spiked in the middle - with pink or pastel coloured polo shirt turned up at the collar. These guys are so well groomed it makes me want to go stand on their faces.
Fortunately for every fashion there is an anti-fashion, and around here it comes in the form of the goths / mods. In my relatively small section of the world this fashion has really only taken off in the past few years, and there are now hundreds of black clad whipper-snappers loitering around our local shopping centre in their black eye-liner and dirty black jeans. And I must say in comparison to the Ralph Lauren collar boys I like the look of them.
In between that there is kind of a homogenous metrosexual look, which is everything force-fed to you by Jeans West or every other bloody shop in the shopping centre. Again, this look involves the spikey dyed hair, but with quite disturbing patterned shirts, and white fade lines across the jeans.
So, for little old Afe, who doesn’t like any of these looks, what is to be done? I was thinking something a bit more rock ‘n roll - dirty jeans and old t-shirts. That would suit me just fine.
.
Tags: meaningless possessions, shit that annoys me
Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments »
Monday, July 25th, 2005
Dammit this is ridiculous. I swear I am never going to wash my hair again. It’s gone all soft and floppy and I look stupid.
Screw being civilised. I don’t care if redback spiders nest on my head. I need to get my mojo back.
.
Tags: shit that annoys me
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Hello, I'm Afe.
