These fucking cunts have now basically taken to leaving parcels on the front door step as their default action. Being a sunshiner, I suppose one should be grateful it even made it that far.
In a field absolutely chock full of low bars, these are still the undisputed world champions of bastardry.
Please see comments re Lady SH in other thread to confirm this not to be true
Did something Iāve not done for 30 yrs this evening - had an in person guitar lesson.
Apparently my right hand is notably more advanced than my left. In order to break out of my playing rut Iāve got to undo years of crap form and technique on my fretting hand, essentially starting again with the basics.
Rather than come home and practice, I thought Iād begin my procrastination by sharing the news with everyone here and then aimlessly browsing the web.
Hopeless twats just mailed me to say that itāll still be delivered between 7 and 9 tonight 
This written in the AA rules of Liff 
One of the places I deliver to is an apartment block. Ostensibly itās quite a nice one, key pad entry etc, but thereās deffo a few dodgy tenantsā¦
I deliver stuff to the flat. If thereās no-one in, it goes back to the office unless thereās an instruction to safe place it or leave with a neighbour.
Every other delivery company just drops stuff in the foyer on the ground floor. Every single day I find packets and parcels ripped open and pilfered. One day there was a big Hello Fresh box there, ripped open and the only thing left in there was the paperwork and a packet of green beans.
Narrowly avoiding being stuck in Oxford or on a train that hit someone between there and Banbury.
We have a couple of friends who are drivers. In all the tabloid rubbish about them from the right wing daily Andrex, nobody considers that at some point someone may jump in front of you and you canāt do anything about it.
Alfie2902 who used to post on here was a train driver and had some horrific experiences with suicides.
My high school had a railway line running along one end of the playing fields. Every year we had a special assembly with a presentation from a train driver who had hit someone, including some pretty graphic slides. Obvs the emphasis was on not playing on the tracks, or going on them to retrieve a ball, but suicide was touched on. It was pretty easy, even for a bunch of dickhead teenagers, to see the effect it had on those guys, I remember one totally breaking down in tears as he told us about some kid heād hit.
On a slightly lighter note, I work with a guy who once went to get a ball back from a rail yard when he was about 10 and got massively electrocuted. Heās 50 now and his nickname to this day is āSparkyā.
Jimmy!
Christ those late 70s/early 80s public information films were the stuff of nightmares. Whatever the subject, you always felt like theyād have some light nuclear war thrown in for good measure, just to shit you up.
I had a friend who committed suicide by jumping in front of a fast through train on the London Brighton line at a small local station.
It was 10 months before he had a funeral due to all the enquiries.
Apart from the terrible sadness of his death I often thought of the driver of that train and if he even saw him jump, and how a driver who went through that experience could drive an express train through that station again, when he knows there will be people on the platform.
Was it 12Bore on the Wam who ran after his dog and woke up a couple of weeks later? Not the actual train that hit him, just the shockwave.
Put me off frisbees for life that one.
But yeah, changing at Reading mid-80s one Saturday morning where someone had thought they could take the the shortcut from one platform to another.
Yeah, that.
The affect on drivers is life changing. Iām pretty blasĆ© these days (cleaning up the aftermath), but my heart breaks for the drivers.
AKA āJoe T Redneckā - hit by a coal-train near Warrington rescuing his dog. Had it been an express heād have been wormfood.
College mate of mine became quite senior in station management at Glasgow Central in the 1980ās. Heād occasionally be called out to pick up pieces. Since itās a terminus (no pun intended) Iād expect the trains not to be going very fast, but I remember him telling me it was generally a garden-refuse-sack and litter-picker job and heād have to walk quite a long way to be sure heād got everything.
Once youāre under the wheels, I can easily believe it. Joe was struck a glancing blow on one shoulder at ~30mph iirc and was still in hospital for a couple of weeks.
Yep Body goes limp, flails about, ends up as mince.