The word "gifting",especally as used by retailers to describe a section of their stock at this time of year. WTF is wrong with the word "gifts"? Eh? You marketing bastards, I hate you!
Moved into a new build and was 'gifted' the white goods in there, but what they actually mean is 'included in the price'.
Also, when the washing machine wasn't working at first - they said, "well it is gifted so if it's broken we won't fix it" (or words to that effect) - I politely let them know that leaving a broken washing machine in my flat is more like fly-tipping than gifting.
sat in work having to use a macbook, what a load of old shit!
It's refreshing to hear that! I often get mocked when I go in to offices with a normal laptop.
I'll never forget ringing some guy up to offer him a job about 2 years ago: "Yeah, I love the office and the team seem great... But I saw everyone using PCs... And I refuse to work anywhere that I'm not allowed to use a Mac. Could you swing an iMac for my desk? If so, I'll accept."!
sat in work having to use a macbook, what a load of old shit!
It's refreshing to hear that! I often get mocked when I go in to offices with a normal laptop.
I'll never forget ringing some guy up to offer him a job about 2 years ago: "Yeah, I love the office and the team seem great... But I saw everyone using PCs... And I refuse to work anywhere that I'm not allowed to use a Mac. Could you swing an iMac for my desk? If so, I'll accept."!
i hope you said you would then kicked the shit out of him the second he questioned where his mac was?
Being told by my wife that the car park at my daughters dance class is a bit tight, laughing and telling her I'll be ok then scraping the car door down a fence post. Got home with my tail well and truly between my legs.
After managing to T-Cut out all the damage I did, my wife has done a proper job of it tonight. Scraped past a tipper truck and gouged the rear wing and both doors.
We've been away so only got around to putting it in for the repairs last night. Wife dropped it off and picked up the hire car but didn't take my license or details so I can't bloody drive it!
Fair play to my wife, she made a proper job of it. Picked it up on Tuesday, was looking through the paperwork and the bill for just the paint and labour was almost £2.5k. This was before they added on the price of the replacement panels and vat.
The parcel bloke decided to post a note through the door instead of ringing my doorbell. He was Royal Mail. I had been waiting in for the delivery so imagine my annoyance that that had been a waste of time as the fool didn't even bother to check I was in.
So I had to wait 24 hours to pick up the parcel from my local sorting office. I get there and realise I forgotten the card. No worries, I thought since I had my ID with my name and address on it. The woman said she needed the card, so off home I went to get the card. The Royal Mail fella hadn't even put my details on the card, just ticked the box saying it was at the sorting office. What an utter shambles.
Being told by my wife that the car park at my daughters dance class is a bit tight, laughing and telling her I'll be ok then scraping the car door down a fence post. Got home with my tail well and truly between my legs.
After managing to T-Cut out all the damage I did, my wife has done a proper job of it tonight. Scraped past a tipper truck and gouged the rear wing and both doors.
We've been away so only got around to putting it in for the repairs last night. Wife dropped it off and picked up the hire car but didn't take my license or details so I can't bloody drive it!
Fair play to my wife, she made a proper job of it. Picked it up on Tuesday, was looking through the paperwork and the bill for just the paint and labour was almost £2.5k. This was before they added on the price of the replacement panels and vat.
Man alive! I got off lightly with £400 a little while ago then, after hitting the car park gate at work.
Being told by my wife that the car park at my daughters dance class is a bit tight, laughing and telling her I'll be ok then scraping the car door down a fence post. Got home with my tail well and truly between my legs.
After managing to T-Cut out all the damage I did, my wife has done a proper job of it tonight. Scraped past a tipper truck and gouged the rear wing and both doors.
We've been away so only got around to putting it in for the repairs last night. Wife dropped it off and picked up the hire car but didn't take my license or details so I can't bloody drive it!
Fair play to my wife, she made a proper job of it. Picked it up on Tuesday, was looking through the paperwork and the bill for just the paint and labour was almost £2.5k. This was before they added on the price of the replacement panels and vat.
Man alive! I got off lightly with £400 a little while ago then, after hitting the car park gate at work.
I couldn't believe it either. They ended up replacing the front and rear wings and the door skins. Thankfully covered by insurance.
The parcel bloke decided to post a note through the door instead of ringing my doorbell. He was Royal Mail. I had been waiting in for the delivery so imagine my annoyance that that had been a waste of time as the fool didn't even bother to check I was in.
So I had to wait 24 hours to pick up the parcel from my local sorting office. I get there and realise I forgotten the card. No worries, I thought since I had my ID with my name and address on it. The woman said she needed the card, so off home I went to get the card. The Royal Mail fella hadn't even put my details on the card, just ticked the box saying it was at the sorting office. What an utter shambles.
It's a pain for me too, especially since they shut our local Bexley sorting office and we have to hike over to Dartford to pick up packages
I've just remembered this but when the final of Bake off was on a few weeks back, the news at 10 was doing a bit on it being the last time the BBC was showing it etc, talking about it's popularity. They cut to a bar in Clapham that was showing the final. I was disgusted to see all these boyfriends or weeds that had gone out to a bar to watch this. They're not men, that's for sure.
For a start it was Clapham and I thought yeah, that sums up the type of weedy man that would go out to watch it. A ponsy gentrified area of London that actually attracts millennials who have never moved to London when they get on their 'grad schemes'.
Just looking at them on camera, they're not my type of bloke. Straight away I could tell none of them have any bollocks. Going to a bar to watch bake off, makes my skin crawl.
I have no problem with the show or that men watch it, but you watch it at home with your missus. You do not, I repeat not, swan out to some ponsy bar in a soulless part of London.
Social media. Except this and the other fora I go on.
So thumbs down to face book, twitter, and all that other shit.
I deleted Facebook a few weeks ago, I really haven't noticed! Twitter on the other hand I like, can be decent for getting info on news and stuff; conversing on it is like trying to get a decent conversation at The Den on a matchday though.
I've just remembered this but when the final of Bake off was on a few weeks back, the news at 10 was doing a bit on it being the last time the BBC was showing it etc, talking about it's popularity. They cut to a bar in Clapham that was showing the final. I was disgusted to see all these boyfriends or weeds that had gone out to a bar to watch this. They're not men, that's for sure.
For a start it was Clapham and I thought yeah, that sums up the type of weedy man that would go out to watch it. A ponsy gentrified area of London that actually attracts millennials who have never moved to London when they get on their 'grad schemes'.
Just looking at them on camera, they're not my type of bloke. Straight away I could tell none of them have any bollocks. Going to a bar to watch bake off, makes my skin crawl.
I have no problem with the show or that men watch it, but you watch it at home with your missus. You do not, I repeat not, swan out to some ponsy bar in a soulless part of London.
Motor cyclists weaving in and out and cutting up yet it's the fault of the motorist when their recklessness causes them to be hit or drive into somebody.
I've just remembered this but when the final of Bake off was on a few weeks back, the news at 10 was doing a bit on it being the last time the BBC was showing it etc, talking about it's popularity. They cut to a bar in Clapham that was showing the final. I was disgusted to see all these boyfriends or weeds that had gone out to a bar to watch this. They're not men, that's for sure.
For a start it was Clapham and I thought yeah, that sums up the type of weedy man that would go out to watch it. A ponsy gentrified area of London that actually attracts millennials who have never moved to London when they get on their 'grad schemes'.
Just looking at them on camera, they're not my type of bloke. Straight away I could tell none of them have any bollocks. Going to a bar to watch bake off, makes my skin crawl.
I have no problem with the show or that men watch it, but you watch it at home with your missus. You do not, I repeat not, swan out to some ponsy bar in a soulless part of London.
Glad I didn't invite you now
I bet you didn't see anything like that in Sheffield though. The steel city. You wouldn't see Sean Bean out watching Bake off in some poncy bar
Too right, the nearest a bloke gets to baking round these parts, is when they walk into one of the finer restaurants, such as Greggs and order one of their culinary delights.
@ValleyGary@cabbles - what can be done about it? Sorry to be simplistic but initially a huge injection of money, not only to boost the numbers of frontline officers but to upgrade the infrastructure of a lot of the prisons themselves. Crumbling buildings from the Victorian era leave a lot to be desired and imo not conducive with rehabilitation. Unfortunately since 2010 the Service has taken a huge loss in funding and cutbacks have resulted in staff stretched to the bone and officer morale is at the lowest point I've ever known it in my time in the job. Experienced staff have had enough and would leave tomorrow if circumstances allowed it. New recruits join, mostly because it's a job but a lot leave because they soon cotton on to the fact that the money they get is not worth the hassle or the constant threat of getting a punch in the back of the head. Due to restructuring of terms and conditions you can earn slightly less at something a whole lot safer. Frankly, officers are not given the respect they deserve for the job they at least try to do either by the government or the public in general imo.
As for prisoners, quite simply they need purposeful activity, they need to have something constructive to do with their time. You can't expect to rehabilitate someone who because of staff shortages are often only getting one maybe two hours out of cell a day and even if they got more time out there's no education to go to because that's been cut. Some might not like to hear it but you can't just throw a bunch of criminally minded men together and let them rot. They need to be given at least half a chance to be shown there is another way.
There is so much more I could add but it could turn into a long session.
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Also, when the washing machine wasn't working at first - they said, "well it is gifted so if it's broken we won't fix it" (or words to that effect) - I politely let them know that leaving a broken washing machine in my flat is more like fly-tipping than gifting.
I'll never forget ringing some guy up to offer him a job about 2 years ago: "Yeah, I love the office and the team seem great... But I saw everyone using PCs... And I refuse to work anywhere that I'm not allowed to use a Mac. Could you swing an iMac for my desk? If so, I'll accept."!
The parcel bloke decided to post a note through the door instead of ringing my doorbell. He was Royal Mail. I had been waiting in for the delivery so imagine my annoyance that that had been a waste of time as the fool didn't even bother to check I was in.
So I had to wait 24 hours to pick up the parcel from my local sorting office. I get there and realise I forgotten the card. No worries, I thought since I had my ID with my name and address on it. The woman said she needed the card, so off home I went to get the card. The Royal Mail fella hadn't even put my details on the card, just ticked the box saying it was at the sorting office. What an utter shambles.
So thumbs down to face book, twitter, and all that other shit.
For a start it was Clapham and I thought yeah, that sums up the type of weedy man that would go out to watch it. A ponsy gentrified area of London that actually attracts millennials who have never moved to London when they get on their 'grad schemes'.
Just looking at them on camera, they're not my type of bloke. Straight away I could tell none of them have any bollocks. Going to a bar to watch bake off, makes my skin crawl.
I have no problem with the show or that men watch it, but you watch it at home with your missus. You do not, I repeat not, swan out to some ponsy bar in a soulless part of London.
That's the truth though.
As for prisoners, quite simply they need purposeful activity, they need to have something constructive to do with their time. You can't expect to rehabilitate someone who because of staff shortages are often only getting one maybe two hours out of cell a day and even if they got more time out there's no education to go to because that's been cut.
Some might not like to hear it but you can't just throw a bunch of criminally minded men together and let them rot. They need to be given at least half a chance to be shown there is another way.
There is so much more I could add but it could turn into a long session.