Jan 11 2010
Sitting By The telephone ( a journey to old age )
Sitting here waiting on the Insurance company answering the bloody phone, apparently ALL their operators are busy just now, so they think that playing Beethoven’s 5th ( just a wild guess, not one for the classics) at full blast is gonna make me feel calm, and assured, that one of their effin’ operators will interrupt the never ending “Sorry all of our operators are busy just now” then Mozart’s Stringed Concerto, played down the telephone lines at eardrum damaging level of sound. Maybe I’m getting old ( I am getting old, we are all getting old, every second of every minute, of every hour, of every day, we get closer, and closer to The Grim Reaper, or, if you are one of those peoples that believe that there is a God, then you’re getting closer to being with your maker in Heaven, if only?) but couldn’t they (the Providential bloody scare mongering Insurance bastards) just employ a few more operators to answer the telephone? Is that too much to ask? When I have to contact these people ( the scare-mongering bastards) I punch in their number ( it’s a freephone number, so they’re paying for the call, over 7 minutes, still no operator available) and I expect someone to answer the ‘phone, withing a few seconds, 4, maybe 5 rings? I’d even go as far as accepting my call being answered before some robotic voice gives me options to select, and NONE of the options are significant to me, press 1 for blah-blah, press 2 for waffle-waffle, press 3 for nothing to do with you, and on and on it goes.
I’m not very fond of Insurers, I do hope that this was not evident in this rant, because Insurers have a very valuable role in society, and they are up there, on the same pedestal as lawyers, accountants, and Estate Agents. They earn their living by imposing on your worst fears, like ” You’re going to die soon, so make sure that you have a decent burial, it only costs 25p per day, a small price to pay for piece of mind” Look when I kick the bucket, I won’t be giving a shit about any piece of mind, or if my corpse is being picked over by those chip thieving seagulls, or in an attractively priced coffin 6 feet under, because I will be dead, & if there is a God, I’ll no doubt be in a warmer place than I am now.
I’d like to apologise for the use of inappropriate language contained within this weblog posting, but I effin’ won’t. If you are easily offended, then don’t read this pish, that I’m thumping into here, because if there are any sure things left in this world ( Real or Virtual) then you can be sure that I will offend someone, and if that someone is you, then ha, ha, bloody, ha, you’ve made my day.
Thank you for coming to my little piece of the Blogosphere, and reading this thing that I do in this place that I do it in. This place being the World (in)famous Island Blogging. Have we learned anything by reading this? I don’t know, and being really honest about that question, I don’t fucking care. Cheery…
14 responses so far
Aye, not too fond of insurers myself, since one smug Tesco lady told me I’m not insured for Liquorice the cat’s teeth extraction. apparently it’s “non essential” as it’s not the result of an accident. No, it’s the result of her bein’ a bit old and not liking the crunchy catfood *I put out. The way the Tesco lady told it, it was as if I was suggesting getting veneers on the cat’s teeth, or getting them whitened for a more attractive smile…
so that’s me £106 poorer than I was yesterday, and Licky is feeling a bit sorry for herself.
* I actually think she bribes Buster Who Boards to eat it, or hides it under the mat.
Did anyone notice Tws’ tags for this post? Because I think you’ll find that the plural of swine is swine, not that I’m being picky or pedantic or anything here
If you find yourself doing botty burps out of your front bum better go and see a doctor…
Why
with insurance companies you pay a lot,but when you claim for something they hardly pay out 
£106 was a hellish sum to pay 
4cat gang and oor willie will be toothless as their teeth will fall out due to rotting 
No ,seriously,I’ve only ever had to get Pablo Picasso’s teeth(he died march 2007)cleaned once at the vets all the other cats teeth are fine for now(touwh wood)and the vet is surprised oor willie still doesn’t need anything done to his and he’s 13 and a half: long may it continue(for them and me) 
TWs fell out of bed on the wrong side this morning,methinks 
I have told Licky I think £106 is a bit steep, and I expect plenty of adoring snuggling and sitting on my lap keeping it warm. She was silent. Four teeth extraction, cleaning and a day in the vets-result-£106 bloody quid.
Could you please watch your language, when commenting here LL. There is no need for swearing, even when the VET saw you coming & emptied your piggy-bank for you, and is now down the pub p*ssing your hard earned £106 down the pan. I hope that you have learnt your lesson, and will now refrain from using sweary words, or I’ll get The Big Man to wash your tongue with soap & water, which is not very pleasant, as I found out as a wee boy. If only The Soap Lady was making her wonderful soapy products back then, I may have learned to love soap, clean on the inside is just as important as being clean on the outside. Cheery…
I hope you’ve managed to get through to the insurance people by now, Tws. There are few things more frustrating than waiting on a phone and listening to someone else’s choice of music. I myself know a Cher album off by heart from when I was having computer problems…
BTW, two questions: 1) what is that strange avatar meant to be, and did you choose it, Tws? and 2) the time of the commment is given as 5.25 pm, but it is now 9.30 a.m. - have I fallen into a timewarp here?
I was bored Jill, so I played about with the settings. No wait, you can blame it ALL on that bloomin’ c*t ( note for LL, bloomin’, or blooming, are acceptable) The c*t formely know as The Flying C*t, who then flew all the way to the Kingdom of Fife ( no bananas though) got his wings clipped and is now known as Kingdom C*t, because he asked me to activate the Smillies, and there were a lot we toys, in the darkness of the Wordpresss Blogosphere, and I couldn’t resist playing with them. It’s like when you see a sign saying “Wet Paint” you just have to touch it, why? I don’t know. I may have digressed a bit..
Oh so it’s my fault is it? *grrrrrrrrrraaaaaarrrrrrrrr*
Your new avatar looks a bit like a gravestone but purrhaps I just need new specs like taddoe!
I do like you. Someone who can rant with real feeling and gusto
I like you too Islander.
Everything is YOUR fault KC. You CAN CHANGE YOUR NAME, but you won’t get any change from the VET ( jingle-jangle)
Listen TWs, I know LOADS worse sweary words than that. I know….(Big Intake of Breath..) oops there’s the doorbell, that will be a delivery van with some other expensive and bulky laser, or light or something, ordered by Big Man.
Would that be Big Man Blofeld and his fluffy white pussy?
I can just picture landlady as Miss Galore…
mmmmeeeyyyyooooowwww