Chew chew train

Posted on May 30, 2013 by headinablender

I was on the train this morning, minding my own business and sending messages on my phone and generally living in my own happy little world.

The train pulls into some station or another, and this guy boards and plonks himself down in the seat next to me.

After about 10 minutes I’m aware, from the corner of my eye, that he’s watching me type out my messages! Cheeky fucker.

I own a Galaxy Note 2 which is like having an LCD TV in your pocket, so it’s massive and it’s difficult not to look at it when someone whips it out…a lot like the camera crew on the set of ‘massive dongs’.

He was also furiously biting his nails, so all I could hear was the occasional loud click when he’d chipped a piece away, accompanied by heavy nostril breathing on his fingers. What was even more unnerving was the fact he wasn’t spitting any of them out (which in itself is disgusting), so this meant he was consuming them.

Basically, to him, this was the commuting version of watching a subtitled film whilst munching popcorn.

I started to wonder what his reaction would be if I started typing stuff specifically for him to read, like…

‘The piece of shit arsehole next to me on the train is watching me type. What a fucking twat LOL’
‘Yes babe, I have my penis out under my jacket, wanna photo?’
‘I’ve just peed myself and I can feel it running down my leg. The seat is getting warmer.’
‘I really fancy this guy next to me, i’m going to touch him the next time the train jerks to the side’
‘I’m just getting my knife out now. I’m going to do it right now.’

I needed to do something; his breath was starting to smell like burned hair.

BLOOBLE FABWA SIBBLADOO

Posted on May 28, 2013 by headinablender

It’s my first day back in the office after a bank holiday weekend. Alas, I worked Saturday and Sunday but was able to do so from home. This was great because I got to email and generate reports whilst only wearing pants and maybe a sock. Strangely it’s frowned upon when I do that in the office.

So this morning I am back on a train heading towards London, contemplating a much needed nap. Then, out of nowhere, a young woman gets on and sits practically next to me talking… sorry… TALKING into her phone at great speed, without breaks or punctuation, in a language I don’t recognise.

That’s annoying.

If you’re going to disturb me and keep me awake at least have the decency to let me have a narrative I can mock you with. Instead all I have is “CHAMBO LAPAMOOPOO DIBIDO BICHEDOOFIBBLE CHOOMA WOPPY BADUMOPA LIPU”

Hmm, pick the bones out of that one Dan….

It’s ok, i can still sleep through this. I CAN sleep through this.

“WABBADONG CHIBLOFANTA MISA BILOP PLOBBLE”

Come on Dan, you can sleep through this…..(eye starts to twitch)

“BAMSA FOOGLIN JIBBY JOBTOSH BIDDYBUDCHIMCHANG”

After a couple more stations of this shit, the door opens and….oh fuck, it’s the dipstick from my previous blog https://headinablender.wordpress.com/2013/05/02/suited-and-unmuted/ who decides to sit right in front of me.

I wonder if stripping to my pants and sock will make them fuck off and let me sleep?

Let’s find out….

Percussive Feedback

Posted on May 22, 2013 by headinablender

I’m sitting here listening to our calls with customers.

I think this picture sums up my thoughts.

I have WAY too much BluTac to hand….

Crush the Candy Saga!

Posted on May 15, 2013 by headinablender

What is with all the invites from my friends to play Candy Crush Saga on Facebook? Isn’t it basically bejewelled from, like, a million years ago?

Oh sorry, no, wait, this one has candy in it.

It amazes me just how much of a steaming shit I really don’t give.

Now, I’m suspecting this retard of a game is auto-inviting me on my friends’ behalf which is incredibly cuntsiderate, but I would rather dip my hairy coinpurse in peanut butter and release the hounds than play this candy coated cock of a game.

Having said that, I may have just discovered that half of my friends are in fact dribbling gibbons who thought it was a good idea to invite Dan because “he likes videogames”.

That’s like offering me a VHS copy of a shit 70s film because you’d heard I was a movie fan. Great, I’ll add it to my BluRay collection shall I?

And if I’ve insulted anyone who may have sent me invites to this game, then I am truly, utterly and sincerely overjoyed.

Game Over.

Mothertruckers

Posted on Feb 25, 2013 by headinablender

I’m not a particularly aggressive driver and I don’t really succumb to road rage, but there are some occasions when I’d love nothing more than to drag someone out of their vehicle and then run them over with it.

Yesterday I was driving from Kent back into West Sussex after a heavy night with some close friends. I was feeling a little delicate to say the least and I just wanted to get home and die.

Anyway, this drive home involved four motorways, one of which was the M26. I quite like the M26 because it has the feel of a dual carriageway and actually has views of the surrounding countryside, as opposed to the trench-like M20 which I’m convinced has a thermal exhaust port at the end of it, no wider than 2 metres.

I hear that’s not much bigger than a womp rat.

Another characteristic of the M26 is the fact that it has 2 lanes rather than the standard 3. This results in one of the most annoying of sins in the history of driving, and makes me wish I’d paid a little extra at the dealership for bonnet mounted machine guns.

Being a vital link between the death star trench of the M20 and the car park known as the M25, the M26 tends to have a lot of lorries on it. This is fine if they’re being driven by conscientious, considerate and intelligent drivers; however, yesterday it seemed these people were having a day of rest and had instead entrusted their multi-wheeled leviathans to complete cretins.

There was a three lorry convoy crawling along in the left lane at a mind-blowing 50 miles per hour, when suddenly the penis driving the lorry at the back decided to speed up to 50.1 miles per hour and overtake. . As a result, this oversized male reproductive organ in a hat had blocked the overtaking lane and a queue had started to form behind him.

During the next torturous 12 minutes it became clear that the other two lorries were also being driven by massive manhoods because neither of them slowed to allow him to pass or get back into the left lane. This meant that more and more cars were building up behind them, weaving left and right at a staggering 50.1mph to get a teasing view of the empty motorway sprawled out ahead.

Eventually the idiot pulled in front of the other two lorries and the traffic could finally pass by. What I found interesting was the fact that every car, without exception, slowed down as they approached the new convoy leader; presumably to congratulate him for a successful overtake by shouting praise out of the window.

The woman in the car in front of me appeared to wave at him quite furiously, so that was nice.

Dan hates a really arrogant man….

Posted on Jan 28, 2013 by headinablender

I haven’t done a proper blog entry in a while, and I suppose a lot of that is down to procrastination and a lack of interesting things to comment on.

To be honest though, today is not much different.

Having said that, I’m in a particularly shitty mood right now. Shall I share? Oh alright then.

There will always be those individuals who we can’t stand working with, from the depressing mood hoovers to the arrogant sociopaths who sit at the next desk scowling at the world. It’s my job to train, coach and develop these people to be better sales/customer service people.

Actually it’s a challenge to get most of them to be nice to their own mothers to be honest.

As part of my job it’s vital that I remain upbeat, positive and friendly; but on occasion I want to walk over to their desk and punch them square in the chops, the arrogant sour faced bastards.

Today I got quite frustrated because my need to choke the shit out of some arrogant turd had to be suppressed to the point of bursting a blood vessel. In fact I had to go out for a walk in the cool January air just to prevent any actual violence taking place. Luckily for me it started to rain which you thought would’ve made matters worse, but it was still preferable to being within throttling distance from the arsebiscuit who had made my knuckles itch because of the way he’d spoken to a customer.

I had this overwhelming desire to poke his eyes out and replace them with his own testicles so he resembled some sort of bollock-eyed goblin, but my professionalism and desire to evade prison prevented me from doing so.

I’m not an angry man by nature, but when I’m starting to form weapons in my mind from office supplies, alarm bells start ringing.

(slowly puts his stapler in his drawer)

So what do I do now?

I’ve still got half the day to go and I’m ready to destroy someone with a finely sharpened sellotape dispenser.

Smash Bandit Coup

Posted on Nov 27, 2012 by headinablender

Well, what an eventful evening we had.

It started when I received a call from my girlfriend to say the car had been broken into and her handbag had been stolen

Oh shit!

She sounded a little shaken up, but mostly pissed off as she had only been about 20 metres away from the car having stopped by her mum’s house for a couple of minutes to drop something off. She had been standing on the doorstep!

Everything was in there; her credit cards, debit cards, cinema card (the horror!), driving licence etc…oh, and her set of house keys. It’s at this point that the sudden, stomach plummeting thought crossed my mind; her driving licence has our address on it.

Oh shiiiiiit!!

I, at this time, was on the train home and it became obvious that the driver had sensed my sudden desire to get home quicker by slowing down to a crawl.

I got off the train, eventually, and raced to my girlfriend’s mum’s house where I was met with tears, a plastic covered passenger side window and the tail end of several phone calls to the credit card companies.

We drove straight home; all the time playing in my head what I would do if I found one of the little shits in my house. Put it this way; they’d never leave.

Thankfully I didn’t need to worry about hiding bodies. No-one was there.

So, let me summarise….

– Locksmith to change all the locks = £200
– Excess to insurance company to replace the window later today = £75
– Cash in my girlfriend’s purse because, typically, she’d been to the bank = £410!

That’s nearly £700 spent for the pleasure of guilt, regret, anger, frustration, sadness and violation.

So I have a message to the thieves who made our evening such an enjoyable one (and apologies in advance to my parents for the colourful language I’m about to use).

“I hope you and your inbred, knuckle dragging family shit pineapples until you drop dead of some slow and painful cock-rotting disease, you total fucking arseholes”.

Thank you for your time.

Carriage chav

Posted on Nov 16, 2012 by headinablender

A proper fight kicked off on the train between a young 20 something girl and some guy. She was shouting abuse the likes of which would offend anyone with a sensitive disposition.

She then angrily stomped down the carriage towards the end I was sat at and I suddenly realised, there was an empty seat next to me! Oh shit!!

She continued with “you shut the fuck up bruv, you shut up yeah!?” and classics like “you little prick! That’s what you are, a little prick!!”

She got closer….her massive hoop earrings clattering against her numerous necklaces.

Shit shit shit.

Then suddenly she disappeared into a spare seat 3 rows in front of me, still shouting “fucking dickhead”, and “go back to where you got those scars you prick!”, although most of it is to herself as the guy had gone.

I felt sorry for the little timid woman she’d sat next to, whose eyes were firmly fixed, unblinking, to her kindle.

She then picked up her phone to call, who us sniggering commuters can assume was, her ‘home girl’

Here are a few choices from this side of her phone conversation (In a proper rudegirl gangsta girl stylee…at full volume)

“I should’ve put my heels to his knees.”

“Acting like some princess; what a c**t”

“Do you still think of me when you’re on the toilet?”

“He’s all up in my face like ‘oh you pushed me!’ like some chief yeah!”

“I ain’t playin’ man, I ain’t playin’!”

There were more but she was spouting them at such a speed in her gravelly ’40 a day’ voice that I couldn’t catch them all.

Now she’s sat there singing along to her iPod. Yep, singing. And still swearing under her breath.

I think the kindle woman was supposed to get off at the last stop.