Royal Mail can kiss my arse.

[seethingheathen]

vestalvagrant still hasn't gotten the parcel I posted to her ten days ago, and I sent it signed-for, and the bint at the post office said it would get there in five fucking days. So, once again, I am looking like a jackass. I'm getting quite used to it, so that's okay.

In other postal news, I sent skyeathena's copy of The Sun on Monday, and the woman at the post office then didn't give me a customs stamp. I didn't know I might need one until I posted trar's copy on Wednesday, and a different woman said I did. Nice. Same rate of postage, £1.85, so no big deal, but let's see whose gets to her first: skyeathena's with just an airmail stamp, or trar's with the customs label. My bet is Nisi's, cos if Customs opens it and sees the Page 3 Girl, they might keep trar's for themselves.

Wednesday, when I posted the last Sun, the fucking queue for the post office in Russell Square was out the door and then some, and the fucking tosser in the first position was asking some woman what her perfume was. So, she spends a few seconds digging through her bag, pulls out the bottle, and says, "Oh, it's called Irresistible."

Bless the Royal Mail and all non-English speaking fucks that work in the post office.