* Despite the blog title, don’t be expecting one for every other semis!
I’m sat at home alone. Claire is working a night shift, so I have to entertain myself. I started building a new MP3 collection to put onto my iPhone, but then got distracted by Britain’s Got Talent. Most of the acts on this show are generally poor. So much so, I think it should be renamed Britain’s Got Talent?
Tonight is the first of five semi-finals. It started badly with a line dancing act. I wasn’t impressed. Claire and I go to Butlins later in the year, and this is the kind of entertainment I expect to see there.
Then there were two singing acts. Now forgive me for being harsh, but every Autumn, we have to endure X Factor. Personally, I think singers should be banned from BGT. If I was a judge, I would have buzzed them off.
Two kids also did a bit of a dance. It was all a bit too fast paced and jumping around for my liking. Somebody had clearly fed the children too many Smarties.
There were two acts that pleased me. An impressionist called Jon Clegg. He was very good. I don’t vote on such programmes, but if I did, he would get mine. I just hope the impressionist, Jon Clegg, gets more votes than this political namesake, Clegg, last week.
There was also a magician. He was impressive. Very impressive. However, I didn’t like it. The reason why… it frustrated me. I like to know how things work. This magician was so good, I could not work out how he did what he did (disappear from under a sheet, with cameras all around him). I’ll vote for him, but only if he tells me his secrets.
I’ve just missed another act while typing this blog. From what I overheard, it didn’t sound very good. I’ll finish this blog, so I can watch the final act and Coronation Street… errr, yes. I am watching it on my own – but ONLY because Tina dies tonight. I am not a Corrie fan. Honest…
When it comes to dealing with companies who offer poor customer service, I am like Liam Neeson in Taken. OK, I won’t torture the managing directors responsible (although in some cases it would be justifiable), but to quote Mr. Neeson “I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you.”
Back in 2007, I had awful issues with TalkTalk. In the end, I resorted to contacting their chairman, Charles Dunstone, in an attempt to gain compensation and get released from their contract (a contract they did not fulfil).
Then, a few years ago, BT gave me lots of issues. I won a fight with them too.
I fight a war against bad customer service. Power for the people!
My latest fight has been with our energy supplier, NPower. I did not choose to join NPower; they were supplying energy to our house when we first moved in, so I simply continued to use them. Then the problems started. These included a mess up over our account; a threatening email, regarding missed payments, even though we had never missed one; cancellation of our direct debits, without us even requesting such action; promises of call backs, yet not receiving them and wasting hours on hold.
After a battle, which seemed to last longer than a World War, the issue has been resolved. NPower have compensated me with £80. Basically, this is the amount of money they were supposed to have debited from our bank, but failed to do so. They’ve written that off.
Little do NPower know, once the compensation is safely in our account, I’ll be cancelling, getting onto Compare the Market and signing up for another supplier. The best thing about that? Leaving NPower? No. Saving money? No. The best thing about changing our energy supplier with Compare the Market is that we get a free Meerkat toy.
Most men these days either seem to have some Gandalf the Wizard type beard or designer stubble. I don’t know where the term “designer” came from – it makes you look messy and like a tramp. That is why I am clean shaven. Well, except sometimes at weekends when I’m feeling lazy, can’t be bothered and don’t mind looking like a hobo.
To keep my face nice and smooth, I have one of those fancy shavers. It has lots of clever functions, including cleaning itself. The cleaning function works by fitting some fluid to a docking station and pressing a few buttons.
Five months after getting the shaver, the cleaning fluid ran out and had to be changed. I was intrigued as to what I would find in the old cleaning fluid case. Given that five months of beard had been removed from my face by the shaver and deposited into the container, I was expecting a lot of hair. Instead I found this…
Where was all the hair? This was my face yesterday, immediately after shaving.
Here is an artist’s impression of what my face would look like, had I not shaved it for five months.
So where has all the hair gone? I’ve put it down to one of life’s mysteries.
I then had to change the cleaning fluid. Apparently it was primarily alcohol. I did think of refilling the old container with Castlemaine lager, but thought that might cause damage. Instead I went for one of the official Braun refill packs. I suspect it’ll do a better job at cleaning my shaver than Castlemaine would – it probably tastes better too. It’ll be nearly Christmas the next time that one will need changing.
640 stickers later, after 55 days, spending a stupid amount of money, I have now completed the 2014 FIFA World Cup Brasil sticker album!
I went out my way after work this evening to vote. This gives me the licence to moan for at least the next 12 months. Believe me, I’ll be taking full advantage of that.
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
