Friday, August 25, 2006


It's been a craptacular week. I'm taking deep breaths, listening to Rachmaninov and looking at Henry. Blood pressure is returning to nearly normal. It would have been normal if I hadn't posted Henry with pants half undone. I have other photos, he has a better package than the JTwit at BB06.

I can't even remember how I started the week or whether it was sunny or raining. I was on the phone again, playing with my little chums at AGL who can't seem to get it straight about direct debits. They're the ones where the money comes out of my bank account not the one where I take your stupid plastic cards to pay at the post office. Are you going to get it right before September? Letter arrives yesterday and says everything is fine except it doesn't mention DD again. I'll ring next Monday when I've replenished my vocabulary.

Monday is also when I find out the doctor hasn't sent the letter to ACAS for Mummsy to be assessed (seems to be too many s's in that like stressed). Finally get him yesterday and he didn't write it because he thought she looked so well. Of course she looked well, prat, she'd been in hospital and you hadn't been looking after her for 24 hours. Using my nice voice, the one that doesn't rip throats out, I explained how long it takes for the team to come, anything from six weeks, if you write urgent, to eight weeks if you're dumb enough not to write urgent. The paper work has to be in place if she goes downhill suddenly and she can fall in a hole very quickly. He had been on holidays and forgotten to renew her script for Morphine as well. All in all, not a good afternoon for him.

Tuesday I try to transfer credits from my mobile to my sister's. I might as well apologize to everyone who works at a call centre, as much as I hate you, you probably hate dumbarses like me too. As much as Optus might say they don't use call centres in other countries, I got an operator who was channelling Peter Sellars underwater in Mumbai. Who remembers passwords for mobile money exchanges? She gave me a new one, it came on the phone when I was on the computer. The phone was in my bag, three rooms away.

I activated Phone and Internet banking, not. For two days the website wouldn't accept my request for a password, on the third day it did. I bet it was the same call centre. I can hear them now, "It's that stupid tart again, the one who can't manage passwords. Let's annoy her for a few days." Well you did a fine job and all to find out my balance was $4.35 and we won't discuss the balance of my credit card which they've obviously mistaken for the GDP of New Zealand.

Now for the techno thrill part of my week. The website that offers to do a virus scan and if it finds any, you get to pay them money to clean it up. This wasn't even what I went to the site for but the word 'free' got my attention. The words ' sixteen infected files' got me the heart attack. I managed to manually clean out most of them. I went to places in this computer I didn't know existed and probably don't after I've flat-footed through them. Sod the little hackers, why don't they get laid. So decided to run Spybot after that and guess what company had just put 16 pieces of spyware on my machine. Batsardss.

Today has been downloading a new firewall which locked me out of my home page because I forgot to give it permission to let me in. What am I, a mind reader? I am now downloading a new anti-virus programme which, on dial-up, only has another hour to go. One day, someone will find a wizened skeleton hunched over this keyboard waiting for another download. If little Yankee Sol wants to be canonized as St. Sol then give us your ill-gotten bonus so we can all have broadband, you carpetbagger.

Anything else, of course, the cat's sick. He wants to eat but can't. I've opened six cans of food and he sits there looking at it. I thought I'd shock him into sensibility by bringing the cat cage in. He's conscious again now but still not eating. I explained to him nicely that I could look in his mouth to see what was wrong. He just as nicely bit the crap out of me. It's okay, I feel like having a beer so it can't be rabies.

Did I have any luck at all this week? I got 3 numbers in Ozlotto, no prize. I walked to mother's and didn't fall over, that doesn't count because of where I was going. The taps are still leaking. The spouting's still leaking. I forgot to put the garbage out. BUT and a big BUT (no, not mine) hidden behind the icepacks (for my big butt) was a carton of triple fudge chocolate icecream. There is no joy like finding a carton of triple fudge chocolate icecream that I'd forgotten was there. I should save it for Sunday but it's been a craptacular week.


Lord Sedgwick said...

You've had a good week orright. All you need to top it off is to invest all those one and two cent coins in the jam jars what you've had hidden under the mattress for a Rainy Day Women #12 & 35 (©our Bob) and buy a shitload of r'Sol's T3 jam jars and bitsa string fortune cookies.

However given yer interest in heavenly bodies (of the non Henry sort, that is) yer week has to be buoyed (boyed?) up by the eventual and inevitable writing down of John Winston Bonsai to dwarf plant status.

I've had a good'n too. You know that to be so when your new friendly local GP (he's all of 16 I swear. 18 at a pinch) restamps yer 2 industrial strength BP scrips) takes a look at the specimen bottle (AKA Fowlers Vacola jar size #32) you've brought in after a day or so of - how shall we say, problematic waterworking (I blame City West Water's and their neglected stormwater drains!) - and declares he aint seen nothing quite as coca-cola clour looking in his lifetime. (The fact that he had only lived 16-18 then became a matter of some consolation.)

Mmmmm, that reminds me "Blood in the Wee ... errr Wire" is on tonight. We hope we live long enough to see the usual scarifying denouement. Robson Greene, hate you as much as Ian McShane - and for the same reason! (i.e. I aint either of them,. Them with their entourage of post menopausal gropey groupies!) Bloody la donna é mobiles.

At least I've got me Bronwyn ... and a shed full of baby oil and kero. C'mon baby light my fire!

JahTeh said...

You filthy old excellency, Bronwyn! No wonder your blood pressure is up (I bet nothing else is) and there's nothing wrong with a bit of looking. I bet your eyeballs have gravel rash at times. Will it make you feel better if I look at Henry and picture you? I have a vivid imagination, well not that vivid but I want you to feel better.

Link said...

Sue the bastards. All of them. Strap on a sphygnomometer thingy and watch the mercury soar as you wait on the phone, deal with indian call centres and the people who offer free stuff on the one hand, while shafting you with the other. (Which doesn't bare thinking about sorry about that.) Be a test case for us JahTeh, cure the ills of the world and make these people accountable to those whom they serve.

AND, much more importantly.

How on earth could you FORGET about a tub of double fudge chocolate ice-cream?? My mind boggles at this, the very thought of it being there, would plague me constantly until I'd devoured the lot. Then I'd forget.

My week has been crap too but you'd never know it. It would be churlish of me to and so I am in the face of finding not one but two four leafed clovers, maybe I should sell them on e-bay or swap them?

I won't divulge the woe is me details, mostly its been existential and reality-based ie, the editor from a certain rural publishing empire who couldn't manage to spell my name even though he heard it twice when I rang, and read it several times. But then come to think of it I dont'think he actually read or bothers to read anything, just the expert off to lunch fob off, the old Aussie, she'll be right (rather I'll be right) who-cares, you-die-I-don't-attitude.

One day my ship will come in and remember all the people who didn't aid and abet my rise and I'll hire someone to go and kneecap them. It will be the simple pleasures I'll enjoy.

JahTeh said...

The simple pleasure of knee-capping, Link are you making a long list, I'd hate to have to wait in line for a good knee-capper because you're using him/her. The ice-cream was hidden behind the ice-packs and I don't usually buy it but it was on special. The cat helped eat it so I walked to the shop this morning and bought vanilla and mixed it with his milk and he's eaten a bit. Dentistry work is needed for him but so's winning Tattslotto.

R H said...

How's about some pictures of nice looking dames, for RH!

JahTeh said...

But RH, your tastes are so diverse. Where would I start? Would you prefer brains or beauty or are you going to be greedy and demand both?

R H said...

Brains! Are you kidding? Who wants a dame with brains? They talk too much, cost too much. And most of all, demand too much. Hell, I want an easy life. A dumb broad, that's my dream.