» Social Networking Gaffes

Hi Honey!
Just wanted to let you know I've phoned NHS Direct and it turns out that discharge I keep getting isn't catching, but apparently we should avoid oral sex for at least 6 weeks. Oops! That might explain those sores you've been getting, lol!

Also I've bought you the Immodium you asked for, but I can't find anywhere that sells adult nappies.


The new QOTW on B3ta is "Social Networking Gaffes", I've been trying to think of a good story for ages but I can't think of anything suitable, so I thought I'd send you a quick message in the meantime. Anyway, fuck 'em, you keep telling me they're just a bunch of geeks and pretentious loners after all, lol!


Can't wait to see you later, snookiewooks, I fancy a bit of felching tonight, and maybe you could give me a rusty trombone the way you like.

Wuv you

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
(Fri 12th Sep 2008, 15:20, More)

» Workplace Boredom

Easiest Job Ever
A friend of mine, Huw, was made redundant last year while working for BT's corporate 1st line support.

Because his department dealt with BT's major business customers, the team was always overstaffed in case a server error occurred which would result in carnage. However, this was an extremely rare occurrence, so the average day for Huw would involve maybe one or two customer enquiries, filling out a ticket for each which would be passed to 3rd line, totalling roughly 15-20 minutes of actual work a day. The challenge was attempting to while away the other 7+ hours a day by playing online games and spinning in his chair going "WOOOooooooooooooooWOOOOOooooooooooooooo".

So it was that, after 4 years in the job, an internal auditor turned up to witness that they were employing a dozen or so people (on admittedly poor wages) to do practically bugger all. This resulted in the amalgamation of tech support departments, and the team's inevitable termination.

Huw accepted his fate gracefully: "I had a feeling it was coming when I overheard the auditor asking, 'would it be fair to say you could train a monkey to perform this role?' while I was spinning in my chair."
(Tue 13th Jan 2009, 9:17, More)

» My most gullible moment

'Pen Pidyn' is Welsh for 'Gullible'...
One sunny afternoon not too long ago (May this year, actually, although sunny afternoons seem a further distant memory as I type this), some friends and I were enjoying a tipple in a local beer garden in Cardiff while we set the world to rights.

How we got onto the subject of TV shows and their themes is a little hazy, but we managed to convince one of our posse (who we shall call Kev) that they had recently changed the theme tune for Welsh soap opera 'Pobol Y Cwm'.

Two of us, Huw and I, advised Kev that, in order to appeal to a younger audience, S4C (the Welsh equivalent of Channel 4) had recently replaced its familiar lilting electro-acoustic guitar intro for the theme tune to 'Roobarb and Custard', complete with the following lyrics:

"POBOL Y CWM, POBOL Y CWM, DA-DA-DA-DA-DAA,
POBOL Y CWM, POBOL Y CWM, DA-DA-DA-DA-DAAAAA."

Disbelieving at first, but eventually brought round by everyone else's (fortunately straight-faced and equally 'disapproving') affirmations, Kev became more and more outraged at this, even managing to convince himself that S4C had done this without the BBC's consent, and questioning the legality of their actions.


It wasn't until he announced his decision to write a formal letter of complaint that we buckled and told him it was a joke.

Naturally, he was somewhat embarrassed to have fallen for this, although not quite as embarrassed as when he left a couple of pints later to a rousing chorus of

"POBOL Y CWM, POBOL Y CWM, DA-DA-DA-DA-DAA,
POBOL Y CWM, POBOL Y CWM, DA-DA-DA-DA-DAAAAA."



First post, please be lovely.

x
(Wed 27th Aug 2008, 16:45, More)

» Workplace Boredom

ELASTIC BANZAI !!!

A game of skill and endurance concocted by my associate Coxy and yours truly.

Place:
BT Connect (business internet) support office, Cardiff, circa 2002-3.

Time:
Every Friday afternoon, 5 - 5.30pm, when the management had left.


Quite a simple premise, but this became a staple precursor to our Friday evening piss-ups, with HUGE crowds* gathering to watch.


Apparatus required:
Post-It^® Notes (those ones which are about 5 inches wide)
A number of elastic bands
Two opposing desks in an open-plan office
An independent adjudicator

Rules:
-The two contestants** sit at either side of the desk facing one another. Players should be sat ideally approximately a metre apart.

-Player 1 is given three elastic bands (N.B. it is useful to have a few spares standing by. Also note that consistency of stretchiness and length is important in determining a fair result).

-Player 2 wears a Post-It^® Note as a visor (á la the blast shield on Luke Skywalker's helmet during Jedi training). This is for a) protection and b) the element of surprise, a vital element in Elastic Banzai. Player 2 then places hands behind the back of his*** chair.

-Player 1 shoots his three elastic bands at Player 2's face. (Hint: The length of time taken before releasing each elastic band adds to the tension in the receiving player. This is a useful tactic for taking your opponent unawares.)

-Player 1 then wears a Post-It^® Note, and play passes to Player 2.

-The player who says "ow!", "ouch" (or any utterance deemed by the adjudicator to voice displeasure or pain) fewer times after half an hour is declared winner and pussy magnet****!


*Literally tens of people
**i.e. Coxy and I. Usually we were the only ones foolish enough to compete
***Disclaimer 1: This game is not recommended for girly girls and their lovely, pretty faces
****Disclaimer 2: Neither player is likely to get any fanny as a result of playing this game
(Mon 12th Jan 2009, 16:23, More)

» Customers from Hell

Directory Enquiries
8 years ago, before the 118 days when BT 192 pwned directory enquiries, I was working in the Aberystwyth call centre.

I worked the 4pm - 2am shifts. It was a skeleton crew which frequently suffered the nightmare calls: drunkards asking for "any taxi company" in their area (which was forbidden as it was deemed favouritism/advertising, regardless of whether or not you took it upon yourself to provide a different company each time - the customer HAD to provide a company name); the suicide threats; the abusive calls; the wrong numbers ( ! ); the conspiracy theorists gibbering down the receivers in their tin-foil hats, demanding to speak to the Prime Minister... you name it.

All of which was inevitably more common on Fridays and Saturdays. Fridays and Saturdays were 8-hour stints of Customers From Hell.


One of the most bizarre calls I ever had was on a Friday night, when a worse-for-wear gentleman from the Valleys phoned up from a call-box asking to be put through to the operator. At this time we didn't have the facilities available to put customers through to another line:



Me: I'm sorry, sir, we don't have the facilities available to put customers through to another line, but if you--

Valleys Man: Jus' put me through to the operator, butt, will you?

Me: We can't do that, sir, but you can reach the operator on 100. It's a free service--

VM: Put me through, like!

Me: As I said earlier, sir, we don't have that facility, but if you replace the handset and dial 100 you'll get the operator.

VM: I don't know numbers.

(Pause)

Me: ...I'm sorry?

VM: I don't know numbers.

Me: What do you mean you "don't know numbers"?

VM: I can't tell the numbers apart.

Me: So how the hell did you manage to dial 192 then??

VM: Ah... fuck it.

(Pause. Receiver clatters. Buttons are pressed)

Hello?

Me: ...Hello.

VM: Can I get a taxi from the phone box in Abercynon, please?
(Tue 9th Sep 2008, 15:43, More)