Letters Of Complaint.

M

misterdude123

New member
Dear work, plaice.

Why have you provided me with this new assistant.

I need her to do things and she just can't.

I know I needed help and someone to carry whatever I deemed too heavy.

To go out after work and enjoy a bevvy.

This woman tho' She's 55 and hasn't wits about her.

Perhaps she can make my tea and give it a stir.

A nursing home, that's what this has become.

Knee-deep with sub-human scum.
 
Dear Ancient Greeks,

In reference to that load of pish story you like to call 'Pandora's Box'...

Do you think we're all fucking imbeciles? If the box contained all of the evils of mankind, then what the fuck was 'hope' doing in the box in the first place? Eh?

Personally, I would not regard 'hope' as an evil and neither does my mum. So I will be expecting an apropos revision together with an apology, addressed to every human being who has lived since circa 4000BC.

If these are not forthcoming, then you must consider my subscription terminated.

Angry of Tumbridge Wells.
 
benchez said:
Dear work, plaice.

Why have you provided me with this new assistant.

I need her to do things and she just can't.

I know I needed help and someone to carry whatever I deemed too heavy.

To go out after work and enjoy a bevvy.

This woman tho' She's 55 and hasn't wits about her.

Perhaps she can make my tea and give it a stir.

A nursing home, that's what this has become.

Knee-deep with sub-human scum.
Click to expand...

It rhymes!!!!

Quality, my friend, quality.
 
:lol: at Pandora's lie.

Dear restaurants.

You take my hard earned cash and offer me these tiny portions.

Just because i'm eating in a Vietnamese restaurant doesn't mean I have the appetite of a small Asian person. RAB..

Hungry of The Hunnery.
 
benchez said:
:lol: at Pandora's lie.

Dear restaurants.

You take my hard earned cash and offer me these tiny portions.

Just because i'm eating in a Vietnamese restaurant doesn't mean I have the appetite of a small Asian person. RAB..

Hungry of The Hunnery.
Click to expand...
i know what ya mean fella, i cant stand it why when people who pay lots of money for food get such wierd and tiny portions.
also liking the new display pic:p
 
dear schizo

ooooh dejame ser

i dont know exactly what it is about my posts that you find to be compromising the integrity of this board...but whatever it is, i assure you it is being blown out of proportion. i suppose it's possible you were having a bad day-twice. i just cant help but feel singled out. then again, maybe you're just a bad day having kind of guy.

*shrug*

i'm sorry if you are jealous of the fire which burns in my heart for Stoi. i had no intention of being the rag doll in an e-penis tug'o'war. but alas things were said and actions were taken and its become painfully obvious that i am trapped in the middle of a vicious love triangle. you two need to work things out like men. i'm not a punching bag, schizo. please don't take your love smitten aggression out on me. i am merely an innocent bystander in the unrelenting carnage that is the Labour of Love.

may god have mercy on us all

ps...i want to ride stoi like a pony

pps...sientate, relajate, y callate por favor. el diablo con los guapos will be starting in just a few minutes. we can watch it together if you'd like :)
 
Dear wallet

Seventeen fucking quid that meal cost me. I thought i'd be clever and only order 1 dish.

To my dismay the total bill was split between all.

Fucked over to the maxx. :dabs:
 
Dearest huns

Please stop singing "The famines over, why don't you go home". I was born here, as were my parents, so I'm already home. In any case, at the time of the famine this was home, every bit as much as any other part of Britain. Should Highlanders go "home" because they moved south because of the clearances. Should you go home if your grandparents came over from Ireland, or is it just the Catholics.

New songs same old sectarian bile. Scotland's shame.

I remain as ever,

A Scotsman, with Irish roots.

PS would the Police, or the Scottish Executive allow you to sing these songs about people from Pakistan or India or anywhere else in the World. I think we know the answer to that.
 
tralalala said:
Dearest Kev,


To kickstart things off, you're an orsum guy, used to be a great mod (though I can't recall many operations led by you.. :huh:). I've always admired your writing skills and vast vocabulary, and have usually been intrigued by many of your posts, sitting and reading them time after time.


Enough with the bawl-licking and down to business -

For fucks sake, sometimes a man wants to read a post simply for the point of it, without the flowery words and letterage you may use to seem like an educated cawk who thinks his Engerlish is better than others.

What with trying to talk to the likes of Bawa in the DR about shite he'll never agree on, I think posts like "STFU cunt, you're wrong and here are the reasons - 1,2,3" are way better than posts that start with 12 letter words and run along half my page.
It tires my poor eyes and I get pissed trying to understand the combination of the words together.. Use simple forum Engerlish or GTFO.


Sincerely and most humbly,
Rafi



(P.S - If you took any of that complaint letter seriously, I'd think you must be going soft. :lol: First paragraph still says what I think though.. :) ).
Click to expand...

But I don't like to use the "c" word.

Too often, anyhoo. :)

My rant is ongoing, and my verbosity is an expression of it, hence my resistance to the stuff of this thread.

I do it every day, and don't let it build to unhealthy levels.

So:

Nyah, nyah, and balls to you, with knobs on. :tease:


PS:

Chalice, I really think you should light the old lady.

Really.
 
Kev,

much as the idea excites me, I'm afraid other factors preclude my immolation of said female of advanced years and body odour.

The collateral risks of setting fire to her are just too grave to sensibly entertain. Such is the volatile chemistry of her convolution of aromatics, I fear the worst case scenario might involve a detonation of nuclear proportions.

Think of the pretty nurse, applying her make-up, mind firmly fixed elsewhere. The spotty teenaged chap with headphones, that expression of forced aplomb now a second skin to him. The paper-rustling businessman, forlorn and nursing his hangover, avoiding thoughts of his impending sexual harassment case.

And then of course, there's yours truly. I really don't want to die.

A more domestic solution is called for here. Formaldehyde spread liberally under the nostrils should suffice. Failing that, a clothes peg applied to the nose might just do the trick.
 
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