Woah, ads.

One of the things I implemented last night on my site ec.je happens to be Google AdSense, I’m not going to lie, I am a broke ass bitch and the £53 I made in the past three years be staring at my sorry self waiting to hit the big £60 payment.

I already put WordAds here, since they don’t really interfere, plus I have included a DreamHost ad that shares my referral funds (which incidentally all referral cash goes to my hosting bill). And for my blog that is more than enough.

For ec.je, I can be a bit liberal, but Google has gone FULL ON CRAYLAY. Like I mean, now I understand why Buzzfeed looks like Times Square or Piccadilly Circus. Like I know not a lot of people read my blog, I don’t really write it for that reason, but if hundreds did, what Google is doing on the other site would totally drive you all mad.

I’m not 100% sure that I will keep the Google Ads up there, but I promise you dear reader, they’ll stay up until I get my hard earned 60 squids.

Although in the interim I will see if I can do anything to reign in the old banners. I did also make sure those annoying mobile pop ups will not be a thing. You can at least thank me for that.

Brief.

I am getting tremendously fed up with life right now, it’s far too complicated at the moment.

Like for example my landlord drama, I might just have to start creating backdated entries with emails and photos to fully comprehend why I pay these bell ends rent to live in a derelict building.

Then we have the bi-polar weather. There is only so many seasons in one day I’m willing to deal with. And I draw the line at 7.

But at the same time, there are positive things

like this

Saturdays are ARSE.

So this Saturday was pretty much an utter washout for about a hundred reasons, but let’s just start off with the events only a few hours after it started.

Living in a city centre flat it’s not unusual for cunts druken clubbers to press the intercom every so often at unsocial times in the night. The sound this thing makes is probably louder than the fire alarms, but thankfully I have developped a tolerance of about 1 or 2 buzzes before I wake up with a shock and that shit drops like it’s hot when I’m woken up.

At 3.21 (I remember this as I used it as a part of a venomous rant) it started buzz Buzz BUZZZZZZZZ BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZ I literally jump out of bed, slammed my foot on the floor in shock and ribs screaming out like I just been punched. I came up to the intercom and blasted out WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU FUCKING WANT, IT’S THREE-TWENTY-FUCKING-ONE IN THE MORNING?!?!?//1/1/1/ONEONEONE she replies I want to speak to Keith, I know he lives on this road, I need to speak to him! I’ve just been mugged and I want to speak to Keith! at this point I enabled tolerance mode, he’s not in this flat, I think he’s either 4 or 1. Do you need the police? she replies No, I want Keith, I want to speak with Keith. Which button are you so I don’t press you again, Keith lives on this street! I tell her I’m the second button to the top and I leave her to it.

She continues to sound the death siren on my intercom regardless. At this point tolerance mode is starting to ware thin, I offered assistance, it was declined, ignored and she’s clearly pissed as a fart.

The next person she gets is the woman below me, who is actually rather nice (she cleaned the entire public areas from ground to top floors carpets, tile floor and dusted with no question just for the sake of it). Much like my greeting was WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT, IT’S THREE FUCKING AM, WHAT ARE YOU STUPID?same conversation ensues "I want Keith *blah blah* lives on this street *blah blah*" she mentions the mugging thing, the lady down stairs offers to ring the police which is declined. Like me she then left her to it.

Yet, still continues to buzz every flat in the building. Now I’m already savage about this as she’s got as much help from two random strangers she could ever need chucked it in our faces and is continuing to annoy us, even though it appears Keith either doesn’t fucking live here or he’s not in if he did. It’s also not considering that I have to be up in 90 minutes for work and same thing with the flat below as they both work weekends as well.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BUZZ* *BUZZ* *BUZZ* (and repeat).

I’m just about to pick up the intercom and read her the riot act when the window below opens up and the woman below (who is quite Spanish) basically tells her how it is.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING? IF YOU DON’T WANT THE POLICE THEN FUCK OFF, FUCKING BITCH IT’S THREE AM, GO AWAY, HE’S NOT HERE, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, STUPID BITCH" she retorts BUT I’VE BEEN MUGGED DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND I WANT KEITH, HE LIVES HERE, ON THIS STREET, HOW LONG HAVE YOU LIVED THERE? KEITH HAS LIVED HERE LONGER THAN YOU HAVE" now by now I probably would have poured a kettles worth of boiling water on her head, I totally understand that she’s in a shitty place right now, but we tried to help her and actually it’s her problem and not ours that she got mugged. The arguement contnued for another 15 minutes with highlights of FUCKINGSTUPIDFUCKINGBITCHFUCKYOU and KEITH HE LIVES HERE ON THIS STREET.

By about 4am she finally fucks off, where she went who the fuck cares, but maybe she sobered up enough to go find a copper. I know the woman downstairs called them, but at that time on a Saturday morning the ETA for any emergency service is somewhere around an hour by phone. I managed to get less than an hours sleep after that and I was not feeling being awake when I woke up again to go to work.

To and from work I was just hanging, I couldn’t get my brain to spark and it was pretty much information in, garbage out.

Once I got home this over-all tiredness on top of everything kind of made me crack a bit under the pressure. Read More (but it’s pretty dismal behind this)…

Council Tax

So, I now have a running council tax saga, woo!

I changed bank accounts in September (bills) so the first thing they did was re calculate my monthly rate and knock it up to £90 a month from £76. They said it was because they had to start my payments from November October.

Alright I thought and paid my normal monthly amount by card so it would even out, two days later they took it by direct debit. Not cool, so I called them and the council refunded that 14 days later.

Again, this month they tried to take the direct debit but this time out of the wrong account, so I had to call the bank up and do an indemnity claim. Sorted after having to make the branch do it myself. Again paid the council by debit card.

But yesterday I got a letter saying I owe the council two months of tax and that if not paid in 7 days they’d hit me with £103 in costs and take me to court.

So I called them, I spoke to a lady who didn’t answer my questions and said that my new re calculated bill would be the end of the matter.

I find it bizarre that my council tax account statement is clearly paid up yet they seem to think I owe them! I wrote a fairly stern letter today as now I’m just fucked off with the whole thing, you change a single direct debit instruction and the whole system goes tits up!

Obviously this 6am shit is too much.

Today I have discovered my bank account is as baron barren as my fictional womb, well I must confess, I lie, it has £1.66 exactly.  On the brightside I get paid next Thursday before going down to London for the corporate thingy with the people and mindless jibbering about figures sales and wah wah blah blah bonus bonus (but not for me obviously).  Can you tell the joy I have.

 

Speaking of such my train tickets cost the company £99, yes, you heard it here, £99.  I could commute to MADRID for a week on that budget, in fact, I could probably commute to bloody Hong Kong or Beijing for that amount.  And they wonder why everybody hates the rail operators.

 

Also, provocatively, it's a rather nice day for my new lunch time walk (it's either excercise or bulimia) through what can only be described as B&B Road.  I'll try and snap a photo for amusement laters.