Friction by Television.

I am going out of my mind. There is nothing to do in life. It's like my life has been put on hold and I'm trapped in a bubble and there is nothing to do in the bubble because it's only a fucking bubble. And this isn't some wanky post-Edinburgh comedown either. No. It's worse than that. In fact, it's the worst thing that could happen to a human being. My telly exploded.

BALLS! Due to my own cack-handed incompetence, my TV passed away on the morning of the 31st August. I switched it on and off several times but all I got was a loud noise and a bad smell (don't). I called it at 12.04pm, wiped a tear from my eye and phoned my insurance company. They'd sort it out.

At first, I actually believed that they would sort it out. They certainly appeared competent and nicely uncunty. I checked through my paper work before calling them, after all a telly is at stake here, and saw that my excess (something that I will never comprehend) is £100. If there is an accident I must pay my insurance company £100 before they will pay me for a new telly. It makes no sense whatsoever but I understood that that was what had to happen. Fine. I called and spoke to Fembot 12 who was programmed to be friendly, helpful and to steal money from me. She pointed out that the new TV I would recieve would be a considerable upgrade on my own TV. Great. It would be a flat screen, HD ready, freeview installed and bigger TV than I'd been used to over the last 10 years. I was very happy. Fembot 12 had done a great job. She said she would pass me on to the person who would take my details and my £200 excess and then she was gone. £200 excess? It says clearly that it's £100.

Shitdroid 9000 then took over and asked me all the same questions that Fembot 12 had. Fine, just get this bit over and I'll have a lovely new telly. Then he asked for my credit card details just so that I could pay the excess and my TV voucher (to be exchanged at Currys, how exciting!) would be posted to me right away. So that will be £200.

"Er....it says in my paperwork that my excess is £100."

"Yes, sir. That's a mistake."

"OK. But it says £100 so really all I need to pay is £100. (Pause) Right?"

(Pause) "You should have been told that the policy had changed. It's now £200."

"I wasn't told that my policy had changed."

"Yes. Your excess is £200."

"I'm looking through all of my paperwork now and it says that my excess is £100 three different times. I don't think I should be paying more for my excess if I haven't been informed."

"You should have been told."

"Right."

(Very long pause) "Do you have your credit card details ready?"

"Well, yes."

"Right, if I can take the long number..."

"Hang on. Are you going to take £100 or £200 from me?"

"Your excess is £200."

"No, it isn't. It's £100. It says so. That's what I was told. That's what I have in front of me. You can't just double the figure. Especially when you're paying out money anyway. It doesn't make sense."

"I'll need to pass you on to my manager."

Boss-A-Tron X was even worse. The conversation went round and round in circles and when I finally said that I was unhappy with the service and would not be renewing my policy she just said "Fine". Bunch of fucking cunts. In short, yes I'm getting a new TV that will be better than the exploded on in my living room but now I have to pay double what I should to get it. That is theft. Do not use Paymentshield ever and if you are with them get out quick. I looked online and no-one seems to have a good word to say about them. And because I huffed about it they won't be posting my TV Voucher out until tomorrow now. CUNTS! How am I supposed to complain about how shit The Kevin Bishop Show is if I can't watch it and scream at it? And watching online isn't the same. If anyone caught me shouting at a computer they would assume me mad or, even worse, that I hated porn. So, if anyone can recommend a better insurer then please do. I'd be very grateful.

I hate people in insurance now. Iggy Pop should be ashamed of himself.

I hope Paymentshield are happy (they are). I've been stooped to finding entertainment elsewhere. Last night I read a book, for fuck's sake, and today I've been listening to a load of podcasts like a beggar. And the podcasts I've been listening to are all insane. They're all BBC radio podcasts. More insane, they're all from the BBC World Service. I've listened to a lot of them over the last two days. About 20, in fact. In fact, while writing part of this blog I was listening to "60 Second Idea To Improve The World" a BBC World Service programme where posh people discuss things that have fuck all to do with them. The subject of their recent podcast? "TV should be banned." CUNTS!

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