Yoghurt, yoghurt, yoghurt, yoghurt, yoghurt, yoghurt, yoghurt, yoghurt, yoghurt! NEVER has such a bland product had such an appropriately bland spokesperson. McCutcheon IS yoghurt, but with significantly less culture. Chipmunk chops really does excel in the kingdom of the bland. She's a colossus of tedium, a Dizzy Gillespie cheeked interest vacuum who makes vapid garden meddlar Titchmarsh appear to be the reincarnation of Peter Ustinov. Just utilise the good bacteria to quell the significant vaginal discomfort and leave. Leave everything, disappear, stop trying to do things, any things, just go somewhere, and stay there, concentrate on the one thing you can do, breathe and look vacant. Can you do that Martine? Please yes? Good. Now stop dripping herring yoghurt on my carpet and fuck off.
So, i've been a customer with this lot for over 10 years (since they were ntl), and frankly, i've had e-fucking-nough. This may seem like a list of petty grievances and possible bordeline racism, but bear with me, i'm explosively ragey!
1> I've had the same (ntl branded) remote controls for my shit, unreliable tv box FOR TEN FUCKING YEARS! TEN YEARS! They're worn smoothe! There are no fucking numbers on them, they don't work half the time and they're driving me up the wall, accross the ceiling and back down the other wall at such a rate i'm being flung into the earth's fucking core! I know this sounds petty, but when a toddler DEMANDS the channel is changed, the excuse of "controller's not working again" doesn't wash. There will be tantrums!
2> My mother in law pays less than us, and has a lovely shiny new v-box, at no extra cost, with a hard drive, and responsive channels and services. We need to pay near on £100 for this, plus an extra fucking £11 a month. CUNT OFF! Do you have any idea how much you're already squeezing out of me you wheezing fuck monkeys?
3> And this isn't going to sound good to some. GET SOME PEOPLE WHO FUCKING UNDERSTAND ENGLISH AND CAN FORM SENTENCES IN YOUR CALL CENTRES! Eight wrongly transferred calls to equally clueless departments! My call this afternoon should have taken 10 minutes, instead it took over an hour and a half, and i am now purple, throbbing and about to explode. And NOT in a good way!
4> Why does it cost me another arm and a fucking leg to cancel the shithouse services i'm now regretfully receiving? You're shit, let me go somewhere that isn't shit, get out of my cunting life you vampiric flangeholes.
I am now going to lay down in the semi darkness, drink coffee, smoke fags and hope somehow that the whole of virgin media sponaneously combusts.