Post by sandbachhatter on Aug 10, 2015 7:50:07 GMT
Morning all
First up, with Week A, it's.... erm.... me!
So, having swapped with Gazza, and trawled through all the things beginning with the letter 'A' that annoy me, here's my personal top 3:
Arctic Monkeys, The
You may have thought that, if I was to suggest any musical group that should be banished to the fiery pits of C.H.I.V.E., it would be ABBA, on account of the fact I really, truly, loathe everything they ever recorded. They’re worse than Queen as far as I’m concerned, and that’s saying something.
However, I opted to spare ABBA for two very good reasons. Firstly, I have nothing against Agnetha, Anni-Frid, Bjorn and Benny as people, I’m sure they’re lovely, so it wouldn’t be fair to condemn them to eternal damnation just because their music is awful. Secondly, I still have almost an entire season of programme writing to do with Maccy, and I couldn’t bear the pouting and sulking.
So, in their place, shall go a band who I detest both for their music and their personalities. In fairness, like most bands it’s only really the lead singer I am aware of, so the rest of the band might be ok, but they are jointly-culpable as far as I am concerned, for not only encouraging him to be a colossal tit, but for having countless opportunities to smother him with a pillow on the tour bus, and not taking any of them.
I hate them, their childish obnoxious behaviour, their arrogance (ooh, another ‘a’) and above all else the pi**-poor excuse for music they churn out.
Automated phone systems
This suggestion is actually three-fold. Firstly, I hate those automated menu-option systems that you get when phoning large companies (particularly insurers, which I have to suffer on a daily basis at work). Press 1 for this, Press 2 for that. Invariably, you go through the menu at least twice before determining that, actually, none of the options apply to you. So you opt for what you perceive to be the nearest thing, then spend half an hour on hold before being told you opted for the wrong choice and they’ll either have to re-direct you (back on hold for half an hour before being cut off) or if you’re lucky they cut you off straight away so you can start again.
Secondly, are the voice-recognition systems you get when you phone some places. Cinemas often use them. I don’t know what voices those systems recognise, but it sure as f**k ain’t mine with my normal, English, non-regional dialect. If I’m getting nowhere, Christ knows how they’re coping in Liverpool, Newcastle or Scotland.
Thirdly, and finally, I give you automated cold-calls. The ones where you pick up the phone, usually when you’re eating dinner or trying to get the kids to bed, only to be presented with a few seconds of silence before a robotic female voice asks you about accident claims (I know, the irony), PPI, double-glazing etc. They always start with "We've been trying to contact you....." Yes, I know, every day for three weeks. The fact I haven't phoned you back should be a big f**king hint that I'm not interested.
There you go, three reasons to stick automated phone systems into the vault.
Aniseed
Last, but not least, is aniseed. I was tempted to go for anchovies, salty little b*st*rds that they are, but in fairness to them they at least have the common decency to be obvious, and not often encountered, so you don’t ingest one by accident.
But aniseed is widespread, and worse still you don’t always know it’s there. For someone who has a poor sense of smell, I can be faced with an alcoholic drink, or a sweet, and not know until it’s too late that it is aniseed flavoured. Ouzo and Sambuca are obvious, disgusting, culprits, but aniseed can be smuggled into almost anything and I hate it. I’d rather put Piers Morgan in my mouth.
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Ok, that's my three. The poll has been set up so you get one vote each - choose wisely. It has also been set to automatically lock at midday on Friday, when we can place our first entry into the vault. In the event of a tie, I'll re-open the poll over the weekend so that we have a clear winner, but hopefully it won't come to that.
