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2480658511_6d1f705669 I love letters, and eminently search the internet for great ones. This letter by a British man which won complaint letter of the year is one of my favourites and without doubt the most comical on my list. Let me leave you to enjoy this British humor. Dear Cretins, I have been an NTL customer since 9th July 2001, when I signed up for your 3-in-one deal for cable TV, cable modem, and telephone. During this three-month period I have encountered inadequacy of service which I had not previously considered possible, as well as ignorance and stupidity of monolithic proportions. Please allow me to provide specific details, so that you can either pursue your professional prerogative, and seek to rectify these difficulties – or more likely (I suspect) so that you can have some entertaining reading material as you while away the working day smoking B&H and drinking vendor-coffee on the bog in your office: My initial installation was cancelled without warning, resulting in my spending an entire Saturday sitting on my fat arse waiting for your technician to arrive. When he did not arrive, I spent a further 57 minutes listening to your infuriating hold music, and the even more annoying Scottish robot woman telling me to look at your helpful website….HOW? I alleviated the boredom by playing with my testicles for a few minutes – an activity at which you are no-doubt both familiar and highly adept. The rescheduled installation then took place some two weeks later, although the technician did forget to bring a number of vital tools – such as a drill-bit, and his cerebrum. Two weeks later, my cable modem had still not arrived. After 15 telephone calls over 4 weeks my modem arrived… six weeks after I had requested it, and begun to pay for it. I estimate your internet server’s downtime is roughly 35%… hours between about 6pm -midnight, Mon-Fri, and most of the weekend. I am still waiting for my telephone connection. I have made 9 calls on my mobile to your no-help line, and have been unhelpfully transferred to a variety of disinterested individuals, who are it seems also highly skilled bollock jugglers. I have been informed that a telephone line is available (and someone will call me back); that no telephone line is available (and someone will call me back); that I will be transferred to someone who knows whether or not a telephone line is available (and then been cut off); that I will be transferred to someone (and then been redirected to an answer machine informing me that your office is closed); that I will be transferred to someone and then been redirected to the irritating Scottish robot woman…and several other variations on this theme. Doubtless you are no longer reading this letter, as you have at least a thousand other dissatisfied customers to ignore, and also another one of those crucially important testicle-moments to attend to. Frankly I don’t care, it’s far more satisfying as a customer to voice my frustration’s in print than to shout them at your unending hold music. Forgive me, therefore, if I continue. I thought BT were shit, that they had attained the holy piss-pot of god- awful customer relations, that no-one, anywhere, ever, could be more disinterested, less helpful or more obstructive to delivering service to their customers. That’s why I chose NTL, and because, well, there isn’t anyone else is there? How surprised I therefore was, when I discovered to my considerable dissatisfaction and disappointment what a useless shower of bastards you truly are. You are sputum-filled pieces of distended rectum incompetents of the highest order. British Telecom – wankers though they are – shine like brilliant beacons of success, in the filthy puss-filled mire of your seemingly inadequacy. Suffice to say that I have now given up on my futile and foolhardy quest to receive any kind of service from you. I suggest that you cease any potential future attempts to extort payment from me for the services which you have so pointedly and catastrophically failed to deliver – any such activity will be greeted initially with hilarity and disbelief quickly be replaced by derision, and even rage. I enclose two small deposits, selected with great care from my cats litter tray, as an expression of my utter and complete contempt for both you and your pointless company. I sincerely hope that they have not become desiccated during transit – they were satisfyingly moist at the time of posting, and I would feel considerable disappointment if you did not experience both their rich aroma and delicate texture. Consider them the very embodiment of my feelings towards NTL, and its worthless employees. Have a nice day – may it be the last in you miserable short life, you irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of twats. John. Photo Credit: Rocket01.co.uk via Compfight cc
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CEq05MRW8AEDpyH By @emini_ANOTI Hero by Enrique Iglesias began to play as they walked to the dance floor. He smiled as he stretched out his hands for her. She smiled back and placed soft, well manicured hand in his. He allowed himself to stare at the ring on his finger for a while and he felt very proud he had chosen the diamond with turquoise set in platinum ring; it was a beautiful contrast against her dark skin and she had been thrilled with his choice, her smiles beating the obscene thousands he had spent on the ring. They had always talked about a significant wedding band, something extraordinary and something with her birthstone. She was the old school type that wanted to wear the something old, something blue, something borrowed on her big day. That why she had chosen to wear the off shoulder thigh high slit cream silk dress her mother had worn on her wedding day. Her friends had thought it was not so fairy tale-ish but looking at her now, she looked like royalty; expensive royalty even though the only jewelry she had on was her ring and the diamond earrings my mom had given her last year after we announced our engagement, her way of saying she was really pleased with my choice. She was too beautiful for words and he was proud she was his as long as forever. She felt as if she was going to explode with all the joy she was feeling. Her heart refused to stop dancing in her chest and she could not stop herself from smiling. How could she, when she was marrying the only good man left in the whole universe. He had looked beyond her faults and loved her in a way she could not believe she could be loved. He had made her the happiest woman to walk this earth; something she had only thought was possible in cheesy romance novels and movies. She still often felt like she was dreaming. As he drew her in a warm and tight embrace, she could hear his heart pounding so loudly; a perfect beat to her dancing heart and they moved to the best music of all time; their beating hearts. He looked down at her and she saw tears glistening in his eyes like fine diamonds. Her heart was melting, her knees were weak but she had never been so strong. She looked at his now tear-streaked face and she felt like she was going to explode into beautiful colourful pieces; a perfect show of how much beautiful emotions were running through her mind. “Oh babe, you are going to make me cry too”                                    “Nope, all I want to see is that sunny smile of yours and I am at peace” That was all she needed. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she laughed. Only him could make her feel that way; the only one for her. He held her tighter in his arms where she would always belong and he had never felt so much peace as he was feeling at that moment. She was the only woman in the world who could make him feel that way, the womb that will birth the man God has destined him to be; his woman, his everything. Enrique Iglesias sang on as they swirled together on the dance floor, lost in their fairy tale. I can be your hero I can kiss away your pain And I will stand by you forever You can take my breath away You can take my breath away I can be your hero
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