Thursday, 29 July 2010

Fan Mail

I recently received this message from a friend of mine via facebook, or MyFace, or FailSpace or Witter or whatever they're calling it these days...

Him: Dear Ellen,

I have recently taken to perusing the current (albeit long-lasted) fad of online diary keeping, colloquially referred to as "blogging". I wish to inform you that I find your blog to contain within it traits with which I can only describe as pure, unadulterated randomness! Congratulations! Of the untold millions, perhaps eve...n billions, of blogs in existence I have actually deemed yours worthy of that utmost of honours, "My Attention". So, congratulate yourself this evening and know that officially your rantings and pedantism are not legitimately "of interest".

Me: Dear [name],

Thank you for your comments. It is sincerely awesome to hear that someone occasionally reads that shite what I write. In case you did not know, 'blogging' is short for the term 'web-logging', although what it has to do with lumberjacks is somewhat beyond me. Please do keep up your reading, young fan, as I hear it is the best way to avoid jail time.

Yours ambiguously,


Me: PS this is totally going on the blog


Him: Dear Ellen,

I am glad that mine own ramblings have helped add to the creative 'pot', I too am somewhat confused towards the need for lumberjacks and was completely unaware of the correct teminology. For this I whole-heartedly thank thee. Per...haps 'web-logging' is in some way a playful jibe at lumberjacks on the basis that their days of employment are numbered, for as we all know; the internet is virtual reality not requiring paper and therefore the tree's need not be cut to provide the raw materials. The may continue to stand proud and tall as the planets pubic regions, rather than shaved and crass like a middle aged hooker, too ugly to be a milf, too young to be a granny, and too old for anyone to want.

Him: PS. Thank you for the tips on how to avoid prison, until now I had merely been hiding in drainage holes and stealing in to my 'neighbours' homes for internet access.

Me: Dear [name],

Who said anything about pot?? You keep your drug-addled ramblings to yourself, young sir!

I feel that your insight on the subject of the origin of the term 'web-logging' is potentially enlightening. Or perhaps the ravings of a reality-starved cretin. Who knows?

I am glad that my worldly wisdom can be of use to you in terms of prison avoidance. You might run into Lindsey Lohan if you go to prison, and nobody wants that. I hear she can give you crabs from across the room...

Yours frivolously,


Him: Dear Ellen,

My initial thoughts of a pot, were in fact a reference to a "tea-pot" ( wherein the 'pot' is a device to collect ingredients and cook. With the basis being that, that which is produced is greater than the sum of it's parts. As such, I was commenting on my desire to help you with the creative process, and felt the term 'muse' (not the band, just to clarify) to be somewhat reminiscent of fat bottomed pre-Raphaelite women. Although your immediate leap to drugs speaks loudly by itself.

I shall do my utmost to avoid capture and the potential crabs Lindsey Lohan is capable of producing. I have been similar stories in the past, and must confess my heightened desire to not catch crabs, to this end I have determined to avoid beaches at all costs!

Finally, I believe it safe to assume that mine own musings have added greatly to the potential material for your 'blogging' and as such my insights may be considered the spouting of enlightened wit reaching Oscar Wildian proportions!

Yours humbly,


Me: Dear [name],


Dear Jason Derulo...

I have noticed your song, 'Ridin' Solo', lately. I have noticed it because it is on Galaxy radio approximately 5,240 times an hour. Every day. I would like to draw your attention to this fact, so that you can make another song. While I appreciate your need to relentlessly inform us of your desire to bang Harrison Ford, the sad fact is that your pathetic and reedy vocal is slowly forcing me to the edge of my already-tenuous sanity. If you were to make a new song, perhaps called something equally meaningful such as 'Wet Lettuce', at least it would be a change. Still godawful audio tripe, but DIFFERENT godawful audio tripe nonetheless. Now, you might ask why I don't just change the radio station to one that does not incessantly force your 'song' down my ear canals. Good point, and I would totally do this if the radio would ever pick up any station other than Galaxy or some mad Polish one. I much prefer the Polish one, as at least its insane method of song selection defies all logic and repetition (Aerosmith followed immediately by Britney Spears on one occasion). But sometimes we can't get a good enough signal for that, and it appears that I'm not authorized to turn the radio off altogether. My ruse of pretending to need quiet for a phonecall has been marginally successful, as I've taken to turning it down until the volume is so low that I can pretend something good is actually playing. And then 'forget' to turn it back up. But plans like these can only work for a short while, until someone notices and turns the drivel back up again!

I hope you will consider my request, and by 'consider' I mean 'act upon immediately, or preferably just shut up'.

And if you see Justin Bieber, tell her she needs a haircut.

Best regards,


UPDATE: The Polish radio station just played the Muppets version of Bohemian Rhapsody, which is possibly the most bizarre thing ever when you can't actually SEE the Muppets. It's pretty bizarre if you can, but a totally insane thing to put on the radio! One word: WIN.

Monday, 26 July 2010

No. Just... No.

It seems to be a common practice to use the word 'action' as a verb in the business world. For example, 'Ellen, please take this file and action it today'. Sentences like that actually make me want to smash things. It's incredibly difficult to follow an instruction at work when it doesn't actually make grammatical sense. Yes, I know what it MEANS, but that does NOT mean that I can hear it without grinding my teeth and experiencing a facial spasm!! It’s also very tempting to reply 'Of course, and then would you like me to computer the results?' NO! JUST NO!

Friday, 23 July 2010

Telemarketers beware, I have a slight hangover and have run out of green tea...

ME: Good morning, [COMPANY NAME], how can I help you?
TELEMARKETER: May I please speak to Mr [NAME OF MY BOSS]
ME: May I ask who's calling?
TELEMARKETER: This is American Express.
ME: Would this be a sales call?
TELEMARKETER: [PAUSE] We... wouldn't be selling anything over the phone...
ME: Ah, so it is a sales call.
ME: Yes it is.
ME: I'm afraid I am not authorized to put this sort of call through
TELEMARKETER [HUFFILY]: What do you mean, 'this sort of call'?
ME: Calls from American Express.
TELEMARKETER [BLUSTERS]: And who told you that you are not authorized?
ME: Our company director.
ME: Yes. Except that isn't his name. But good try!
TELEMARKETER [SOUNDING UPSET]: And when did he tell you this?
ME: Several months ago, around the time that he found out his girlfriend was having an affair with an American Express executive.
ME: Oh yes, it was very traumatic. It was a female executive actually, so he's had that to deal with as well. I think he thinks it was his fault somehow. He's now having major issues with gender confusion, but he's working through it with his therapist.
TELEMARKETER: I hardly think this is appropriate...
ME: Oh it was VERY inappropriate. They had just opened a joint account when she left him, with American Express actually. So it was supposed to be a serious relationship...
TELEMARKETER [IMPATIENTLY]: Can you PLEASE just put me through to Mr [NAME OF MY BOSS]
ME: Oh, you got his name right this time! Well that's better. But he's still not interested in taking this call. Not after all the trauma. If he so much as hears the words 'American Express', he breaks out in a rash and gets vertigo.