WARNING: THIS BLOG POST CONTAINS EXTREMELY STRONG PORNOGRAPHY. READERS WHO ARE EASILY OFFENDED ARE ADVISED TO LEAVE THIS WEBSITE BY CLICKING HERE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

This is EastEnders legend Frank Butcher (don’t worry, the porn in no way involves him!). Frank was played by Mike Read. Sadly, both Frank and Mike are no longer with us.

I haven’t watched EastEnders for over 15 years, but I do remember Frank for running a used car garage, where he would sell dodgy motors to unsuspecting old women and gangland mobsters. He was a typical cockney geezer.

Why am I writing about Frank? Well, in the same way that he would con Ethel out of her pension, she had put aside to spend on Willy, (her dog, you sick-minded so and so), I too have fallen victim to a wheeler dealer…

There are, in fact, two cowboys who have targeted me. Unlike Mr Butcher, these dodgy salesmen don’t operate out of a small portacabin, which leaks when it rains.

One is probably the biggest retailer in the world. The other is one of the largest football clubs in the country. I am talking about Amazon and Leeds United.

Let’s start with Amazon. If you follow their activities in the news, you’ll know that they are hardly whiter than white. In fact, if you were to examine their metaphorical underpants, I am sure you would find some nasty skidmarks, that even Daz washing powder would struggle to remove. I am referring to their tax avoidance.

Tax avoidance is the legal way of paying less tax – unlike evasion, which is illegal and something Amazon are definitely not involved with. However, ask yourself – “just because something is not against the law, does it make it right?” That subject is for another blog post (which I will never get round to).

Moving on from Amazon’s tax issues and $11billion profit, to something a lot more important – my missing parcel. I placed a preorder for a Hannibal Lecter Funko Head. If you don’t know what a “Funko Head” is, it’s basically a toy for adults – and NO – not one of those “toys”. Bloody hell – your warped mind. I blogged about one of my toys a few years ago.

Amazon totally cocked up the delivery date and appointed UPS to transfer Hannibal from their Swindon warehouse to my home. Anyone who has seen The Silence of the Lambs will know that Dr Lecter doesnt travel well – and I don’t mean he suffers from motion sickness.

Luckily for the UPS driver, Hannibal didn’t escape and eat his face, like in the movie. Unluckily for me, my Funko Head was taken to a shop in Twerton, 3 miles away from where Iive. What did they expect? For me to just hop on my mobility scooter and ride to this mystery shop on the other side of town? Well, yes, actually.

As cockney Frank Butcher would say “YOU’RE HAVING A GIRAFFE!”

The second offender to shamefully rip me off was a loved one. Now that hurts. Sometimes I feel that this loved one just doesn’t realise how much I care for them – they certainly don’t reciprocate the affection. I am, of course, referring to Leeds United. The football club I have bitched and moaned about, throughout every one of my blog’s 15+ years on the internet.

If you have been reading my blog recently, you will know that I have been waiting for a matchday programme to be delivered. I initially blamed Postman Pat. Pat, I’m sorry…

By way of an apology, I did buy Pat a gift. Unfortunately something went wrong…

The reason I had not received the programme, was because it was never bloody sent! Honestly, Leeds United is like a rubbish boyfriend. He constantly promises you the world, but always finds a way to let you down. I am subjected to applauding emotional abuse. The only thing the bastard hasn’t done is hit me – although give that time – whenever I next get to go to a Leeds game, I am sure I’ll end up getting smashed in the face by a wayward ball.

I sent Leeds lots of love letters, I mean emails, asking about the missing programme. They blocked my email address. I’m fecking serious. I am blocked, like a dirty spammer.

Luckily, I still own my trusty pre-2004 Yahoo Mail account. I used this before GMail became a thing. Yahoo Mail was crap back at the turn of the millennium and it is still crap now. In fact, I think it has become worse!

I used this geriatric email address to further ‘spam’ the club, asking what was going on and where the hell my programme was. I also messaged the Supporters Liaison Officer. I don’t really know what they do, but they sounded helpful and once sent me a signed photo of the team.

Guess what? I have had no response from the club. As cockney Frank Butcher would shout “YOU’RE HAVING A BUBBLE BATH!”

Now this is where the hardcore porn comes in…

If you don’t want to see this extremely graphic photo, leave now…

I’m warning you…

Don’t say that I didn’t warn you…

Seriously, this is sick, sick stuff…

Twisted and vile…

Depraved…

OK, you’ve been warned. Prepare to see your last meal, as you puke onto your keyboard or smartphone…

“YOU’RE HAVING A BUBBLE BATH!”

If you are still with me and haven’t choked on your own vomit, well done. Foul stuff, wasnt it?

What can I say? Leeds United drove me to it.

There is a little epilogue to my tale of woe and it is good news!

I am now a happy owner of the two latest Leeds United matchday programmes. The one which originally went AWOL was sent to me by the Liaison Officer. Yesterday, I arrived home from work to discover the second programme sitting on where my doormat would be, if I owned a doormat – basically, it came through the letterbox.

Well done, Leeds United. You did good. Eventually…

As for Amazon and Dr Lecter – apparently he is in a white van, on his way to me at some point today. That is unless he escapes again.

Oh, just to let you know that by reading his highly pornographic blog, you have infected your browsing device with the most awful spyware, malware, ransomware and underwear.

Basically, I’ve stolen all your data. To get it back, you must pay me…

Good news, everyone! Postman Pat has returned from his holiday.

I trust that he enjoyed himself, although I am slightly disappointed that he didn’t bring me back a straw donkey.

It looks like Postman Pat must have returned to work on the same day he landed at Bristol Airport – courtesy of Jimbo (naturally).

Sadly for me, Pat must have still had his holiday head on – the sangria clearly still in his bloodstream. He did well, but not that well…

I received two of my three missing deliveries – the Cinema Paradiso DVD rental and the football fanzine. I am still missing my Leeds programme from last Saturday!

It is my suspicion that Pat “borrowed” the programme to read on the flight home, but left it on one of Jimbo’s seats.

Either that, or Leeds just didn’t bother to stick it in the post. It wouldn’t be the first time the club would screw one of their own supporters over – but I will leave that gripe is for another time.

Isn’t it annoying when you are waiting on a delivery and it is late!

I know these things happen and that there can be many reasons for the hold up, including a delay with the sender getting your precious items into the magical post box.

In this instance, I am placing the blame solely upon my postman. I don’t know his name, but for the purpose of this blog, I will refer to him as Patrick, or Pat for short.

The reason I know Pat is the culprit, is because I am waiting on not one, not two, but three items! All in envelopes small enough to fit through the letterbox. All were due on Saturday. It is now Tuesday.

Not only did my three items fail to arrive, but we haven’t had any post, of any description, since Saturday, when Claire received a car tax bill – isn’t it convenient how those letters never go astray!

It is too much of a coincidence to believe that my three items, all from separate senders, became lost at the start of their journeys. No, they’re in my local sorting office – in Pat’s ever-growing “to do” pile.

I have therefore come to the conclusion that Pat is on holiday.

I appreciate everyone is entitled to a holiday – even childrens television characters from the 1980s. But why couldn’t cover be arranged during his absence? Whit’s Fireman Sam up to these days?

In case you were wondering, my missing post includes the following items…

• A matchday programme from Leeds United for last Saturday’s match.
• This football season’s first installment of The Squareball – a Leeds United fanzine.
• A DVD from Cinema Paradiso – an online service, where you rent DVDs – like Blockbuster Video, but still in business.

So, while I wait to read a match preview of a game which Leeds have already played, Pat is no doubt on a beach somewhere, enjoying sun, sea and …

… I’ll let you finish that last paragraph. I didn’t want to, out of sheer taste and decency, owing to the fact that Mrs Goggins is Pat’s travelling companion!

Is it possible to get scooter rage, in the same way you can experience road rage? Of course it is.

My commute to work this morning was slightly delayed, when I had to stop my mobility scooter at the top of my street, as what looked to be the biggest coach in the world, started to reverse down the road I was intending to cross. It had clearly taken a wrong turn down the main road and was hoping to turn around.

The coach belonged to the company who provide away travel to Bath City fans and players. I have always found them to be very good, and to be fair to the driver this morning, he performed the very tricky maneuver safely.

Despite my confidence in the driver, I did not fancy the chances of my scooter and I, against a massive bus. As a result, I had to show patience and wait.

Someone who was unable to show patience, was a white van man, driving up the main road, adjacent to my street, which at the time was being blocked by the coach, as it turned around.

What an idiot that WVM is! We’ve all had to wait for the coach to move, but we don’t all start behaving like a petulant child.

I’m not a massive fan of the White Van Man at the moment. On my return home from a recent medical appointment, the path of my scooter was blocked by a van…

Chilling parking

What the photo doesn’t make clear is that there is ANOTHER van (parked equally badly), in front of the one which I snapped. Oh, and yes, it is a double yellow line they’re parked on.

As a result of the two vans parking on the pavement, I had to squeeze my scooter alongside the vehicles, driving through part of the hedge. There is no pavement on the opposite side of the road, so an alternative route home was not an option for me.

The WVM may argue that he had nowhere else suitable to park. That may or may not have been the case. Whatever. Just because there is nowhere legal to leave the van, I don’t feel that it is fair to block a pavement, forcing pedestrians to find an alternative route for themselves.

Considering this was on a hospital site, it is highly likely that there would be other patients who use a scooter or wheelchair, and would encounter the same problem as me.

There. I’ve said my peace on white van men – for now…

Finally, if you are a driver of any vehicle and are approaching a zebra crossing, with pedestrians on the pavement, waiting to cross, I am sure you know what to do? Slow down safely and stop. I didn’t get 95% on my theory test for just looking pretty!

It would be pretty rude, as well as against the law, to carry on driving and not stop at the crossing, right? I am sure we can all agree on that.

Here’s the part some of you probably don’t know. Or maybe the vast majority of people are aware, and it’s only the rude woman I encountered this morning who isn’t…

If there are people waiting at a zebra crossing, while you approach, it is NOT cool to drive past without stopping. This behaviour is not excused by lifting your hand up, as if to thank the pedestrians for tolerating your inconsiderate driving.

Wow… I really can sound very cross and grumpy, once I start ranting. The truth is, all these thing caused just a mild annoyance, apart from the vans on the pavement, which is a huge bugbear of mine.

While all the events in this post are all 100% factual, I was grateful to at least have something to blog about – as you may have noticed, I have been struggling for material lately.

Finally, I am in now way portraying myself to be a good car driver. I’m no Lewis Hamilton. Firstly, I pay my taxes. Secondly, despite holding an automatic driving licence, I haven’t been behind the wheel of a car since 2014. Maybe it is best just to stick to my scooter and Grand Theft Auto.

It is with happiness and surprise that I am now in a position to report my missing parcel has been found! There was me thinking Hermes had lost or eaten it.

Of course, as this was Hermes, things were not simple…

• Last night, I received an alert, advising that my parcel would be delivered between 7 and 9pm. Did I mention the email arrived well after 8pm? I’ll give you one guess as to whether or not Hermes managed to deliver…
• Anyone who guessed that Hermes delivered my parcel before the 9pm television watershed, go and have a look at the IQ Test I found last month. You’re stupid!
• If you worked out that Hermes were a bunch of shit-houses and didn’t bother with last night’s delivery, well done. Although don’t feel too chuffed – it’s hardly rocket science.

• I did finally get my parcel! Woo-hoo! My box of crap Leeds United merchandise arrived this morning. I was in work, while Claire had a day off.

• I am told by my wife, that a Hermes courier posted a card through our letterbox. Unfortunately, the card wasn’t of the ‘apology’ variety, with money in the envelope – although given the rubbish service Hermes provided, such a gesture would be the very least the courier could have done!
• The card may as well have said ‘F**K YOU’. It advised that a delivery attempt had been made and my parcel had been left in a safe place…
• Firstly, the doorbell was not rung and there was no knock on the door. How is that a delivery attempt? It was a lie. Claire looked out of the window, to see a courier escaping down our path to his car. Maybe his underwear was getting a bit hot and he needed to put a fire out?
• Secondly, the parcel was left outside, in the rain, in full view of the street. Hardly a safe place. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
• That said, there is a strong argument that leaving my package open to the elements and the local thieves, is a safer place than it remaining with a Hermes courier for a minute longer!