I woke up to what I thought might be stigmata. Brown stains on my hands. My first reaction was to smell them, they were odourless which rules out chocolate and shit straight off the bat. I looked around the room in a sleepy confused state but could not find any clues to what had caused this, maybe I was the reincarnation of Jesus? Imagine how fucked off religious types would be if that as true!
It looked like I had dipped my hands in varnish but we have none in the flat. What was worse was this stuff would not shift with soap, washing up liquid, white spirit or even the chemicals we have at work that can eat through fucking metal!
My phone decided to go and die on me and not content with kicking the bucket it decided to really fuck me up by taking the sim chip with it. I phoned T-Mobile to see if they would send me a replacement but they said that since I was cancelling my contract at the end of the month they would not send me another chip.
I’ve lost ALL my numbers. Although I’ve just realised that all my numbers were on the phone itself so ordering a new chip would be pointless.
Then in an act of sympathy, for my dead phone and chip, my internet decided to go and die on me as well. I get my internet with T-Mobile and again they said since I was cancelling at the end of the month they would not send me out a replacement dongle.
I was already pretty miffed so I told them to go ahead and shut the service off for both internet and phone and send me the bill. I’m not sure when that will happen though.
My sister was meant to be setting up the phone line and internet for my dad. She has been promising to do it for three months now. She told us she did it and we actually waited in for the engineer but when I phoned them they did not know what the hell I was talking about!
So I now have no internet and considering that is how I make the majority of my income I am absolutely fucked.
On the way to work I saw the bus and I also saw a woman running for it so I jogged along and we both got to the bus and as the woman put her foot on the step to get on the driver looked at her, closed the door (almost catching her foot), shrugged his shoulders and then fucking drove off!
I was late for work because of that tit and thankfully the supervisor was not in otherwise I would have got a bollocking and probably would have told her where to stick her job and stormed out and quit.
On the way home from work a woman decided to sit in a seat opposite the aisle from me. I was reading my magazine but I noticed every 20 seconds she would look over at me. I paid no attention and carried on reading my publication. Then five minutes later she jumped out of her seat, gave me a final look and then hurried to the front of the bus where there were more people around.
I hate people who do this. Stop being so fucking stupid, sit the fuck down and stop being so up your own arse you think I’d want to attack you, you fucking cunt!
Before my internet died I found out that someone (or maybe a group of people) had gone through my twitter profile and had lifted some of my better jokes and posted them on Sickapedia as their own. I’m not the only one, a number of very talented comics have seen their best material stolen.
What this means is that when I, and the comics, quote jokes we have written people who visit their wretched web site automatically think we have lifted the jokes from that web site.
Whoever is doing this: could you please kindly go and kill yourself? Seriously, kill yourself. (credit: Bill Hicks)
I feel a little bit better now.