Tag Archive: Cold Callers


I’m delving into the old Myspace archives again. Things not been great in old Walsall but I don’t want to go weeks without a roast. Therefore, I’m re-posting more of my now impossible to find roasts from the Myspace days. However, I’m going to go against my OCD and not leave where I left off the last time I re-hashed the old stuff. You see, I was up to December 2008 and I thought, looking today, it would seem silly when the sun is shining to be talking about the perils of Christmas shopping.

June 9 Father Christmas Sunbathing

Yes, not quite the season for Father Christmas.

Therefore …

Britain’s Got Talent Pushy Parents (Originally posted (7 June 2009).

I saw the clip of a little ten year old on Britain’s Got Talent. This is the girl who forced hard man, Simon Cowell, to give her a second chance after she broke down and cried with a hissy fit. Verruca Salt from Willy Wonka would have been proud of the performance. Am I being cruel and heartless, though to say that I found it incredibly funny? At the end of the day, there is a moral here about the pitfalls for our kids if left in the hands of pushy parents. Kids should be kids but some parents just want to bask in the glory.

June 9 Girl cries on Britain's got Talent

There she is, in tears after that cruel pair, Ant and Dec, told her the show hadn’t time to give her a second chance. Cue the tears, enter Simon Cowell … On with the second chance.

Sense of fair play, 0 … Spoiled Brats, 1.

And I hate to say it, even though I don’t watch the show, I catch bits occasionally and it’s still full of tiny tantrums in the making which the audiences go gooey-eyed over.

You have to wonder about the parents. Ahhh, if only they could keep them young forever. They’d milk millions from them.

Also during that week … Britt’s adventures eating out (Originally posted (7 June 2009).

I spoke the other week how us with the Britt name get bad experiences, wherever we go, particularly while eating out. Well, four years ago …

I went out twice this week. The Indian Restaurant was nice, even though I had to avoid having the Travellers on the other table offer to do the guttering on my house. They even tried it on with the old couple on a nearby table and three of the waiters into the bargain.

Normal Nick service was resumed when I went to Pizza Hut the following day. Not the usual one where we get bad service from aggressive staff. We tried that one and were told there was a 25 minute wait for a table. Therefore, myself and companion of the time, went to the other one around the corner in the Shopping Centre. There we were seated straight away … then had to wait 25 minutes for somebody to take our order.

I say seated straight away … that was after this huge lady came into the place and made a beeline for the table we were being showed to without approaching any staff and almost knocked my companion over in the process. The staff allowed this and also served her first because she shouted louder. So it was great fun for us to wait for our order to be taken as she wolfed down her starters. Still, at least we got the bill before her and left with satisfaction when I commented that I hoped she choked on her gateaux.

Bitter, me?

And I still hate Pizza Hut. I always have some bad experience. I don’t even own up to going there any more. And I’m not the only one. Former footballer, Gareth Southgate even wore a paper bag on his head in this Pizza Hut TV commercial.

June 9 Gareth Southgate Pizza Hut Advert

Weird. He has a paper bag on his head, yet it still looks like Gareth Southgate.

Callers who leave me cold. (Originally posted (7 June 2009).

I had a call the other night from a company called Space Designs. I’ve had them before and the woman put the phone down on me as soon as I said I wasn’t interested.

This time, when I said no thank you, the guy from Space Designs got aggressive with me, shouting, ‘What do you mean you aren’t interested? You haven’t heard what I have to say yet.’

WTF? It’s my bloody phone isn’t it? They rang me on my time. I can say what I bloody well like. Therefore, in revenge, I managed to engage this pillock in an argument which lasted over five minutes. That’s five minutes of his sales time when he could have been contacting somebody who actually gave a damn.

Message to all Cold callers, don’t mess with the Empty Souls.

June 9 Blondie hanging on the Telephone

Okay, I couldn’t find a picture which demonstrated dealing with cold callers. Therefore, here’s Blondie singing Hanging on the Telephone.

I will add, Empty Souls was my pseudonym on Myspace.

Let’s talk about sex, baby … (Originally posted (7 June 2009).

Or rather, tantric sex.

I was reading an old article about Sting and his experiences with Tantric Sex. Basically, this practice appears to be where people forego any physical intimacy and instead, do it on a spiritual path. By using their inner eye, they can apparently focus on their partner and reach sexual satisfaction without all that tedious, messy shagging.

My God, you have to admire the invention of the woman who came up with that one. You know, some poor lass who wanted an excuse not to have some fat hairy bloke humping and grunting on top of her for ten minutes while they were more concerned with trying to breathe. I mean, the old I’ve got a headache, darling, must have been wearing a bit thin and they obviously needed a new approach.

Imagine the scene. Tired woman wants to relax but there he is, in the bedroom, undressing with expectant grin on face while trying to hold the muffin top belly from exploding over his boxer shorts.

‘Darling,’ she says, ‘I’m going to suggest we try something different tonight.’

At this point, hairy bloke will get excited because he thinks she may be about to abandon all that messing about called, foreplay.

‘I’ve been reading about this thing called Tantric Sex, and I think it would benefit us. What we do is both remove our clothes and sit six feet apart from one another. While we concentrate our energies, our inner eye will focus on our bodies and eventually, we reach sexual satisfaction. Oh and you may find it helpful if you close your eyes while you’re doing it. Plus, I’m going to be glancing at Hello Magazine as it aids my spirituality and hopefully we can both enjoy this fantastic experience.’

Therefore, while he is sitting cross legged with eyes closed and inner eye exploring the contours of her clitoris, her inner eye is pricing up pink sparkly heels.

If I tried something like this, my mind would switch off and I’d be asleep within minutes. Perhaps that’s what the desired effect is.

July 8 Sting Smug Git

Tantric sex, as promoted by Smug Git of the Year, twenty times running, Sting. He wouldn’t be so smug if he worked out wife, Trudie, just wanted a peaceful night when she suggested tantric.

So long, and see you next time.

Okay, hope you enjoyed that. I do aim to re-post more old blogs rather than have them lost in the catacombs of Myspace but hopefully, next week I shall be back to normal.



The Sunday Roast (12 February 2012)

I’m back and roasting away on a Sunday.

The furnishings may be different but targets remain the same. Here I take a sideways look at life and have the odd swipe at anything I deem fair game. For those who never saw the old Myspace blog – I hope you stick around now you’ve found me.

I am really happy with the new site but have to admit, it did take me a while with my technophobia, to get to grips with setting it up.

One of the things I found interesting was the WordPress tutorials and the constant references to napkins. Yes … I can see your puzzled expressions but I kept getting advice to write all of my ideas on the back of a napkin. Why? Wouldn’t a word document (seeing as I’m already on the computer) do the job just as well?

Napkins? Do WordPress have stakes in a party supplies firm that went badly wrong and they now need to get rid of all their stock?

Let the bulldozers roll!

It was sad to see pictures of West Bromwich Police Station waiting to be demolished. Sad mainly because of the activity during the preceding twelve months prior to its demise where management authorised decorations to cells, new signs on the front of the building, new shelving in stores, numerous other alterations and just about every department moving from one office to another in a bizarre game of musical chairs. All this in a place imminent to be bulldozed.

For the past three years, staff have worked tirelessly and with great professionalism while under the threat of job losses yet despite huge cuts, money was still wasted on a station with no future.

Organisations like the police need leaders with a vision for the bigger picture in a long term way. Unfortunately we appear to have those in charge who only see as far as the latest office makeover.

Nob of the week.

Quite astonishing has been the rant between comedian Sarah Millican and some of her fans. While performing at the Wolverhampton Civic, Ms Millican engaged in banter with the audience over filming on mobile phones. This seemed to be light-hearted until the row continued on a social networking site with Millican wanting recordings deleted, stating those filming were not welcome at any future concerts.

What planet is she on? Does she not realise without her fans, she is nothing. I will certainly look at her in a different light next time her whining voice is thrust upon me from the television.

She accused those responsible of partaking in nothing short of theft. Hmmmm. Got a new DVD you want to flog Sarah?

I kind of go with the thinking that if people are willing to shell out £20 to come and see you perform, it’s a bit of an own-goal to start slagging them off afterward.

An interesting phone call I took just now.

‘Could I speak to Mr Bright?’ a man with a very hard-to-follow accent, asked from the other end the line.

‘It’s Britt,’ I said.

‘Mr Bright?’


A long pause ensued until finally, the caller spoke again. ‘Mr Bright … I am ringing about a threat to your computer?’

‘Oh yes; go on.’

‘We have been monitoring and it seems your system has become infected.’

Oh Christ, it’s a Sunday, I don’t want cold-callers on a Sunday. ‘Let me stop you right there. There are no threats on my system, I am fully protected and there is no way, unless you have my IP address, that you could know about my system. In fact, the only threat to my system at the present, would appear to be you.’

Cold Caller was undeterred and continued with his spiel until I said I wasn’t interested in anything he was trying to sell.

‘I am not trying to sell you anything,’ Cold Caller said.

‘Then why are you ringing about an infection on my computer?’

‘I haven’t said anything about your computer.’

‘Yes you have, it was your opening line.’

He tried to continue but I’d entered “rant mode” by now. ‘Look, I’m not interested. You’re a scam trying to hack into my computer and if you are a genuine company, give me your business name.’

He did. He said it was ‘Pitt.com.’ I thought I’d check them up later so I asked for his phone number too and he gave me a number that despite him claiming to be calling from America, coincidentally matched my own home line apart from the last digit.

‘You think I’m stupid don’t you,’ I stated. I asked for his name.

‘It’s Pitt,’ he says. ‘P-I-T-T.’

‘And your first name?’

‘Brad. B-R-A-D.’

‘Brad Pitt? You are having a laugh now.’

He claimed he wasn’t but I’d lost it by then. I said as it happened, it was me who was making the joke. I had no intention of doing business and I was just keeping him talking to pump his company phone bill higher and as long as he wouldn’t hang up, I wouldn’t either.

‘You are very funny,’ he said. ‘Ha ha haaa!. Ha ha ha ha haaa! Can you hear me laughing? Ha ha ha ha haaa! Ha ha haaa! Ha ha haaa! Ha ha ha ha haaa …’

Five minutes later.

‘Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha …’

‘Look, I’m going to stop you there,’ I said. ‘Bored now. I don’t know why you won’t go away but it’s your phone bill. However, I need to go somewhere for a minute, therefore I’m going to have to put you on hold.’

I stuck the phone by my computer speaker, clicked the media player and started playing Queen. And I left him. I’ve made a cup of tea and he’s halfway through ‘Headlong’ now. Think I should see if he’s still there?

Load of scrap.

There they go again. ‘Scrap Ironnnnn!’

There wasn’t any here when you passed half an hour ago so why do you think they’ll be some when you come round again now? The amount of time your dulcet tones invade my ears these days, I’m guessing the scrap reserves will be all tied up in the next few days.

Anyway …

That wraps up my first Roast in the new home so I hope you’ll join me again. I’m off to see if Cold Caller wants to listen to ‘Night at the Opera’ next.



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