Category Archives: fuck you!

Trolls and glove puppets


Those of you who read my ramblings with any regularity will know that I have attracted the attentions of my very own internet troll called Rickie aka Dickie Doubleday aka many other names – including mine!

I’ve been ignoring the little shit for some time. He will tell you that’s because he’s warned me that there will be ‘consequences’ if I ever mention him online anywhere and that this will lead the the impending doom that is ‘the finale’ something which I fear as much as Cardinal Fang fetching the comfy chair.

Anyhow, I ignore him not because I’m intimidated by him but because it seems to drive him nuts that I ignore him! So why am I writing this now?

The answer is that dear Rickie likes to talk to himself when nobody else will talk to him, so he pretends to be me so we can have imaginary confrontations. He’s hijacked a blog that’s been dormant since 2012 that belongs to a blogger I used to read called The Ranting Penguin. Under the top post, he’s posted a couple of thousand comments and directed people to read ‘his blog’ all over the internet.

The comments mainly complain about a blog called ISAC where I was an editor until the end of last year. There’s an article on there with the background. He became such a nuisance that he was blocked and his address – given to me by a group of several bloggers he’d harassed over the years – was published.

To cut a long story short, Rickie has posted on there continually attacking me and threatening me. He’s posted lies, filth and general abuse on there using my name. Over the last few days he’s also been on a forum called ‘Cunts Corner’ as Upton Man and as me. It’s been confirmed that these two have the same ip address so it just has to be him.

For the record, I am not Upton Man and I have never posted anything on the Corner. Apart from when I confirm my post by cross posting it elsewhere, I have not contributed to the crap on The Penguin. To emphasise the point my publically known gmail address was used. I never post comments under that address and I changed the gravatar associated with it to a red box with FAKE written in it which, to anyone but a half wit like Rickie, would give people a bit of a clue as to the validity of what was being posted.

I ignore Rickie which, unfortunately, just makes him madder. I’m writing this so that people whose blogs he’s contaminated using my name know it isn’t me.

I’m also trying to make bloggers aware that if you’re not going to use your blog any more, it would be a good idea to shut it down or at least time limit your comments otherwise twats like Rickie can openly abuse it.

As Rickie says, nothing on The Penguin can be removed except by the owner. Unfortunately for him, he seems to have forgotten that this cuts both ways.

So there. I’ve ignored your threat and mentioned you again. Now go screw yourself Rickie there’s a good boy…

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Fuck you, Debenhams Mastercard

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It’s a new day, and I’m pissed off with NewDay today…

FYI NewDay is the company that administers the Debenhams Mastercard and they’re a right bunch of incompetent, intransigent money grubbing twats. There. I think that covers it?

So why do I feel like this? Because I have a direct debit with them that pays off the full balance on the card every month – only last month, it didn’t work. No idea why. It just didn’t. So I contacted them when I noticed that the money had not gone out of the bank account and I checked the card on line. Seems the DD bounced – except when I rang my bank, they said it had never been presented. Never mind, they just slapped on a £12 fee for late payment, another £12 for a ‘returned’ direct debit, and £5 in interest because the balance hadn’t cleared. Like I said, money grubbing bastards – especially when I complained to them that they’d not taken the money in the first place!

Then on Monday I got a reply to my email. A standard letter saying ring them to discuss it. I thought “5p a minute for me to ring them to sort their balls up? Fuck ’em” – then on Tuesday I got a snotty letter informing me that my account was in arrears and that I should ring them to discuss payment! FFS!

I caved in and rang them. I had a 38 minute circular conversation with them – cost me £1.90 to try to sort out their cock up. Eventually, they refunded one of the £12 charges as a ‘gesture of good will’ ignoring the fact that by now any good will had flown the coop. The irk on the phone (a bloke called Zebi – I resisted asking if his second name was Dee…) kept telling me that it was down to my bank. That’s the bank I’d already spoken to on Friday who said NewDay had never asked for the money!!!

So I asked the irk who had the authority to refund these charges as he’d already told me he couldn’t. His reply? “I don’t know. I’ve only been here four weeks.” “Bloody well go and find out then!” No. Not interested. Not bothered. Couldn’t care less. They’ve got my money. They don’t care.

I got nowhere. Continuing circular conversation. More Magic Roundabout connotations sprung to mind. “You messed up” said Florence. “Fuck you” said Dougal. Boooiiinnng!!! “Hello Dougal and Florence” said Zebedee. “Fuck off, Zebedee” said Dougal and Florence…

Anyhow, a complaint has been registered. They will write to me. No doubt they’ll asked me to ring them to discuss it. At 5p a minute. Down to me. First ten minutes holding on in their queuing system.

The Debenhams Mastercard is now in pieces. I will never use it again. I will never shop in Debenhams again.

Fuck you, Debenhams. Fuck you, NewDay. Fuck you, Zebedee. You know where you can insert your credit card – and in ain’t in an ATM…

Get yer Yahya out!

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I’m having a bad week. People are pissing me off right, left and centre. The latest is Yahya Jammeh. Now I know what you’re thinking – “who the fuck is Yahya Jammeh?” Well, he’s the President of the Gambia and he’s just fucked up a very nice holiday I was about to take next week.

Seems El Presidente of the Gambia Jammeh doesn’t like the result of the election that was held in December, despite the fact that he’d initially conceded defeat. Then he changed his mind. He was put into power by the army in 1994 and has been there ever since, likely salting away a couple of bob along the way? There’s currently a state of emergency in the Gambia, it has two presidents as the President elect, Adama Barrow, has been sworn in in Senegal. But Jammeh is still hanging on backed by the best regiments of the army.

His cabinet is disolving around him and buggering off to Senegal where, understandably, it’s a tad safer for them. The Nigerian army has moved tanks, warplanes and a ship to the area and is massed on the border waiting for a UN resolution to legalise armed intervention.

Meanwhile, the UK operators are repatriating their clients in the Gambia as fast as planes can be got there before the airport is seized and they’re stuck there. The FCO is telling people not to go unless it’s essential, and my tour operator has cancelled my very nice two weeks in the best hotel in the country.

I feel sorry for the Gambians whose jobs in the hotels and shops have just gone down the toilet as the tourists leave. They’ve got bugger all to fall back on so the prospect of a civil uprising looks inevitable unless they fancy starving. On the other hand, there could be an invasion by a West African coalition army. Either way, if you were a Gambian, I suspect you’d be on the ferry across the river to Senegal tout suite.

As for me, I’m just glad I wasn’t flying out last week instead of next week.

Fuck you, Asda!

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I used to like Asda for wine. They sold my favourite white at an excellent price and I’d go down there regularly for 6 or more bottles. But not any more because they’ve blown it…

I went down there and bought 6 bottles for £6.00 each. No bother. I went to the till and paid. Then before I left the store I thought “That doesn’t sound right?” and it wasn’t. They charged me £6.98 a bottle instead – so I went to the cashier and queried it. A girl went to the shelf with me and there it was : £6 a bottle so I said I’d been overcharged so gimme my six odd quids back.

“Can’t do that” she says. “Not able to do that on the tills. You either accept the £7 or we’ll give you your money back.” I’m a reasonable bloke. Not her fault. “Manager” says I. “Now please” and out comes some spotty faced kid who is apparently the manager of the wine department. “I’ll check the price” says he and buggers off. Five minutes later, back he comes and declares that the price I’ve been charged is correct and the price shown on the shelf is wrong. Again I’m told accept it or take a full refund. FFS!

“Store manager” says I. “Now please.” “Not available” I’m told. How convenient. “Here’s a solution” I suggest. “Just give me a gratis bottle so I have 7 at effectively £6 instead of 6 at £7.” Seems reasonable. It’s called customer service.

“Can’t do that” says he. “Messes up me stock control.” FFS again! “So” says I holding out a bottle at arms length, “what happens if I drop this and it smashes. How does your stock control handle that?” “That’s shrinkage” says he. “These things happen!” “So let’s pretend it happened this time and we can all go away happy?”

“Can’t do that” says he. FFS! FFS! I’m starting to lose it now! “So” I continues, “do you never have any wine stolen from your store that makes your figure wrong?” “That’s shrinkage” says he. I’m getting bloody nowhere and beginning to think that the major shrinkage is in this idiot’s brain cavity?…

“But it’s £6 on your website” says I, “and it’s click and collect. So if I put these 6 bottles back on the shelf and then go on line and order 6 bottles off your website, I get the same physical bottles from the same shelf in the same store for £6! What’s the problem.”

“That’s OK” says the moron. “The prices on the website aren’t necessarily the prices in the store.” “But it’s the self same actual physical bottles FFS!” “Yes, but you bought them on line not in the store – you just collected them from the store.”

So I’m marched down to the customer services desk where I’m ignored for around 15 minutes due to the queue of similarly pissed off customers, they refund my money and I piss off home without any wine.

What a bunch of fucking idiots…

Fuck You Amazon Prime!

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The latest in my series of exposing piss boiling, underhand con merchants and general showers of shit is Amazon Prime!

Today I bought some toothbrush heads. A modest purchase. I failed to notice when I selected ‘Standard Delivery’ the devious little buggers were offering this product as a ‘prime option’ which isn’t an option at all. By buying this product you are automatically enrolled for a 30 day free trial of Amazon Prime which basically means on 3rd August they will charge my credit card with a £79 annual fee.

This is sneaky and underhand as I had no intention whatsoever of signing up to this ‘service’ and immediately went into my account and cancelled it. Except that I can’t actually cancel it until the 3rd August when it will ‘lapse’ unless I pay up.

Well, Amazon, it’s like this : I don’t want your bloody Prime service and I resent the lack of transparency you use to get people hooked into it with noticing.

I also have a screen print confirming I have immediately cancelled my ‘Prime subscription’ so I defy you to charge my credit card. You have NO authority to do so.

So fuck you, Amazon Prime…!