If I were to run into a crowded public place right now – covered from head to toe in the most powerful plastic explosives available – and detonate myself to the detriment of numerous innocent bystanders, Allah would give me seventy two beautiful, yielding virgins to do with as I wished. SEVENTY TWO. Why, I expect I’d be saddlesore after the first dozen. As it is I’m stuck with one virgin, Virgin Bastard Media, and I might as well be dead for all they care. As part of my ongoing catalogue of complaints against Virgin Media grows I thought I’d share my latest letter to them with you, as you’re all so jolly lovely.
Enjoy!
HELLO THERE.Despite experiencing numerous 'issues' from the very moment I entered into a business relationship with Virgin Media I have tried to maintain stoic and composed at all times. There does however come a point where the time for peaceful, amicable negotiation ends and I turn into a bawling, demented madman, screaming at the heavens for all I'm worth while shaking my fists in the air. That time is now.
I WOULD LIKE TO MOVE HOUSE PLEASE.
I WOULD LIKE TO MOVE HOUSE FROM 142 GLAROBATRA STREET, EDINBURGH TO 11 FRONDLECRUBE CRESCENT, EDINBURGH.
FOR SOME REASON CURRENTLY BEYOND MY KEN I WOULD LIKE TO TAKE THIS ACCURSED VIRGIN MEDIA TELLYBOX WITH ME.
I WOULD LIKE YOU TO FIX YOUR WEBSITE SO THAT I CAN REQUEST THIS HOUSE MOVE. THE WEBSITE THAT HAS SEEMINGLY SWALLOWED MY REQUEST EACH AND EVERY TIME BEFORE VENTING IT OUT OF WHATEVER STRANGE ELECTRICAL BOWELS IT HAS ALL OVER THE FLOOR OF THE INTERNET.
I WOULD NOT LIKE TO BE TOLD BY THE CALL CENTRE OPERATIVE IN YOUR 'HOUSE MOVE' DEPARTMENT THAT MY ACCOUNT, PREVIOUSLY IN CREDIT BY LOTS OF MONEY BECAUSE OF YOUR OWN INCOMPETENCE, HAS BEEN CLOSED FOR NON-PAYMENT. THIS IS NOT RIGHT. THIS IS WRONG. THIS IS WRONG IN THE SAME WAY THAT HITLER WAS WRONG.
I WOULD LIKE YOU TO KNOW THAT EACH LETTER TYPED HERE IN CAPITAL LETTERS IS ACCOMPANIED BY ACTUAL VOCAL WAILING, GNASHING OF TEETH AND REAL TEARS COMING FROM MY FACE AND COMPONENTS THEREOF.
Please either ARRANGE MY HOUSE MOVE or pick up your stupid crash-prone tellybox at your earliest convenience, lest I frogmarch to your offices (presumably still in The Gyle, Edinburgh) and let you hear the aforementioned anguished cries for yourself.
Kind regards,
R MacLeary
(now of 11 Frondlecrube Crescent)
