RANT RANT RANT RANT RANT RANT RANT – And More RANT

 

I’ve been calm lately, haven’t I? Calm like a calm thing, all sweetness and light and peace and serenity like a zen buddha’s comfortable old ARSE. Politeness personified.

 Nice Dotty.

Mild Dotty.

TAME Dotty.

 

And then yesterday some IGNORANT FUCKER OF A SO-CALLED PROFESSIONAL HAS TO GO AND SPOIL IT ALL. AND INSTEAD OF BATTERING THE BASTARD WHO NEEDED BATTERING, I ENDED UP BATTERING THE FUCK OUT OF MY LITTLE TELLY TO MAKE THAT SMUG DIRTY BASTARD DER FUHRER CAMERON’S FACE (SPIT SPIT SPIT) GO AWAY.

Yesterday I waited THREE AND A HALF HOURS for a phone call – can you imagine what state I was in by the time the phone finally rang? I’ll tell you, NOT A FUCKING GOOD ONE – panic attacks BEFORE the due time of the call, panic attacks WHEN THE CALL DIDN’T COME, panic attacks in the THREE AND A HALF HOURS until the call DID come. And in between the panic attacks was the VOMITING and the FRUSTRATION – a nasty, pacey, shouty frustration that turned into A MURDEROUS FUCKING RAGE but no one was here for me to murder so when I saw that BASTARD OF A NAZI WANNABE (SPIT SPIT SPIT) on the news I SNAPPED and I picked up the first thing to hand (my brass candlestick) and I MURDERED MY LITTLE TELLY and I HALF MURDERED MY NICE CHAIR and I KICKED THE FUCK OUT OF MY NICE SETTEE and I BROKE THE GLASS CABINET my stuffed owl, Bartholomew, lived in and DIBBLE came banging on the door but the wankers couldn’t TOUCH ME because I have IMMUNITY FROM THE POLICE (I can’t be arsed doing a link so you’ll have to do a search for DIBBLE in my search box if you want to know how I got IMMUNITY FROM THE POLICE). Dibble fucked off sharpish after I’d put in a HARASSMENT COMPLAINT against the NOSEY TWATTING ARSEWIPES NEXT DOOR who’d reported me – AGAIN. Don’t fuck with Dotty, NEIGHBOURS, or you’ll come off worse, everyone does.

I’m sick of it. SICK SICK SICK SICK SICK SICK SICK of it. No wonder this country’s going to SHITE.

Why do PROFESSIONALS always make people wait? Why do they have no concept of PUNCTUALITY? Why do they TREAT PEOPLE LIKE TWATS? It doesn’t matter what profession they’re in, they’re all the same – FUCKING RUDE, DISCOURTEOUS, BAD-MANNERED SKANKS who think their time is more important than anything else. And when they’ve made you wait they expect you to be GRATEFUL they deigned to deal with you at all.

I’m not happy today. Not happy at all.

 

 

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