girlsdontcry's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Knobby Knob from Knobsville Oh, for fuck's sake, the knob who is moving in to my room has finally delivered his cheque, a week later than he said he would, and it's ALL WRONG, he's written the amount of £375 but he's spelt out three hundred and seventy pounds only, and he hasn't dated it, and he has the most awful handwriting that I could never replicate, and now I don't know if I should attempt to bank it or go through the whole tedious process again. And before that, he said he couldn't write me the cheque because he didn't know my surname. Even though, in a massive coincidence, the surname on my bank account is the same one that appeared on the FIVE EMAILS I'D SENT TO HIM THAT DAY. BT's cunning plan for keeping customers from leaving: put you on hold for so long that by the time you finally get through, you've passed out from hunger, and when you come to, you can't remember your name, much less your mother's maiden name or your phone number or why you were even calling them in the first place. Also KNOBS. KNOB KNOB KNOB. I hate moving. I'll knob off now. 6:21 p.m. - 2005-03-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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