Now I’m calling them imposters….I may be wrong and there really are genuine. However,if they are, I must assume that the SAS has the equivalent membership to the Chinese army. Over the years I must have heard dozens of them blasting off about their derring-do,and strangely they always seem to believe that a public bar is the best place to share their tales.

A few years ago I had the rather dubious pleasure of being friends with a tree-surgeon. I was aware that he was some kind of an army reservist but he never really encouraged anyone to ask him about it,and he wasn’t the kind of man to push. It wasn’t until he died that I discovered that he actually was something to do with the Special Services..still no idea what exactly. Now considering that he was a grand craic when he’d had a drink and could tell the finest tales about when he played rugby at a high level, felled dangerous trees etc.and yet never felt the need to even mention his military career,it just makes these pub blowhards look even more pathetic.

I’m happy to admit that I can sometimes “gild the lily” when in full flow, but how fucking sad must you be to claim that you were a member of the SAS when,in truth,you probably got no further than the cookhouse at Aldershot Barracks?

Fuck them.

Nominated by Dick Fiddler

British Customer Service deserves a cunting, doesn’t it?

You go for a meal. A huffing zombie with a Tuesday morning toothache face barely enunciates “What can I get you?” Dirty plates and cups festoon the tables You hear her colleagues effing and geoffing drunken stories of shagging and drinking, punctuated by profanities and “so”s while somebody needlessly bangs a nail into a nearby wall. A stale odour informs the air.

Your order is plonked in front of you; what was once food is either uncooked on the inside (your stoic Britishness prevents you from complaining) or now drowning in oil. Your order of water is met with a sigh. There is no “bon appetit” in English so your horrifically disingenuous waitress mumbles, “en-joy!” like a command, though it might be a dare.
If you’re fortuitous, you might receive the obligatory, “is everyfing alright wiv de food?” scowled at you, not out of care but to satisfy the chain restaurant’s regulatory seven-minute rule.

If you’ve been abroad you’ll know what proper service is. The UK is the second worst in the World. Only France, the haughty Horse-eaters, the undisputed World Champions of Vulgarity, are worse than us.

Yes, yes, nobody likes the unctuous Yank “Hi I’m Brett and I’ll be your server tonight” and “have a nice day” facade, especially when it’s linked to tips. Furthermore some customers can be ill-mannered arseholes.

Nonetheless, our service is appalling. Whether you’re natives or tourists this ghastly Fawlty Towers experience is woeful. At best the workers in the service industry are entitled and incompetent; at worst they’re crude, crass, and act as if they’re doing you a (very unpleasant) favour.

Nominated by Captain Magnanimous

Is anyone else getting pissed off with over friendly service?………..I ordered a brew in McDonalds from the screen (so I dint have to engage with the mongo staff) and went and sat down with my number (133). Fucking right they can fetch my cuppa over!
This tubby twat waddles over having clearly eaten his morning equivalent of his own body weight in McMuffins and plonks my tea down “Have a good day”………..No milk. I shout over as he struggled back to the counter out of breath “Where’s me milk son?”. He brought me two sachets of milk “Have a good day” he mumbled again…Does he fucking know sommert I don’t? Am I gonna die tomorrow?
Marks & Spunkers and Wanktrose are even worse. The servers, although clearly better educated than McRabbles, try and make friends with you before instructing you to ….”Have a good day”……..

“Up to anything nice today sir?” asks the slimy, post-modern, liberalist rug muncher. “Well, yes Brenda, I am actually. I’m going to kill my neighbour’s cunt of a dog that barks all the time and shites everywhere” as I grab my change and reduced-price sandwich.
“Oh….Have a good day” she says………..”It’s ten to fucking eight at night love!!”.

Nominated by DAz Wud

I’d like to nominate loud co-workers, the type who have to shout instead of talk. There’s two for a nomination in my office, both wimminz – one always sounds like she’s having an argument when she’s on the phone. The other is the most pleasant person you could meet, but is she bloody annoying !!! She talks loudly, especially on the phone, where her conversation is always punctuated with loud laughter.
A typical phone conversation as follows :
”Hallo? Haaaaaaallo, hahahahaha, oh did you? oh my god hahahahahaahah. o-o-o-oka-a-a-ay hahahahaah etc…..’ on and on ad nauseam.
Whilst on the subject of co-workers, also a nomination for those who eat smelly food in the office and stink the place out, got some of them in my office too, cunts.

Nominated by Mystic Maven

Public furtive objection to Smoking!! Please.

A massive cunting to people who begin pointedly sniffing or coughing when they get within 100 paces of me trying to enjoy a snout. I agree its a shitty habit etc etc, and I’m not a heavy smoker BUT! I actually go out of my way to not smoke around others. Always outside, if I see people coming along I’ll cross the road or shift to suit the wind. It’s not enough though is it? The looks that are cast my way like I’m some sort of Leper ringing a fucking bell I can take, but the pronounced sniffing and coughing that always follows is getting the old gander up.

Should I quit? Absolutely, but for now it’s my choice and my money. I despise fat people (amongst many) but I certainly don’t go around audibly tutting and shaking my head at every Jabba The Hut I encounter in Aldi or Asda. I think the next time it happens I’m just going to go out of my way to blow it right into their eyes. The Cunts.

Nominated by Roger the Shrubber.. son of Roger

I’d noticed that my broadband and phone bill had crept up to over £60 and knew that my contract was due to run out in 3 months time, so I rang them to see what could be done to get it reduced. The woman on the other end virtually told me to Fuck Off until nearer the time that the contract ran out.

I was so mad that I signed up with EE who were offering exactly the same package for less than £30. Two days later I got a message from BT saying that I’d have to pay a cancellation fee..I ignored it. Two days later got a phone call from BT to say that they could immediately cancel,without charges,my present contract and offer me a new 18 month contract identical to my present one for £29. I agreed because it meant not having to set up a new e-mail address,and tbf,. they’ve always been good about getting the phone working when the snow or winds cause disruption.

Now, I’m grateful to them for the new contract, but really all it does is expose how much they’ve been overcharging in the past. Loyalty to a company seems to carry a penalty these days instead of a discount.

Nominated by Dick Fiddler