28 Jun 2018

28th June 2018 Scorchio cont'd.

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Thursday 28th 60-80F, 16-27C, very light winds, hot with full sunshine[again.] The temperature rose ten degrees while I was out on my walk.  The wind turbines were standing quite still. They will often turn very slowly when there is the slightest breath of wind, but not today.

I was just reading the health warnings by a spokesperson for those living in the region of the heath fires in the UK. The symptoms are identical for those we suffer every day. As our multiple-car owning neighbours [from hell] illegally burn cheap [often painted chipboard] demolition waste to heat their water even during the hottest heatwaves.

A seven mile shopping ride where I found no stock of advertised special offers. Lies damned, lies and Danish supermarkets special offers. So special they aren't even available. Mind you, there is no consumer protection in Denmark. Other than a few rules which occasionally leak through from the EU by mistake.

It 's official: Denmark is by far the most expensive country to live in within Europe. It is so expensive even the gravy train, musical chairs, politicooze have to cheat on their expenses and <cough> borrowing <cough> town halls and palaces for their private parties. No expense spared, for that lot.

Meanwhile, the Danish, Norwegian owned, PostNord, post office, sinks ever lower below the horizon of acceptable business behaviour. They are being suitably rewarded by handling ever fewer parcels as GLS gains their losses by default. It was a headwind coming home, too!

Despite it having reached 80F, 27C I had to return to the idiot PostNord "smart" machine to collect my missing parcel. The idiots have a smart machine but lack the imagination to send the parcel receiver the pin codes vital to opening the relevant drawer. This happens every, single, bløødy time we have a parcel via PostNord.

If I didn't spend 20-25 minutes waiting on the phone to talk to <cough> customer services <cough> every, single time, I would never be able to access my parcels. Probably until the time ran out and the item was finally returned to sender with the drawer remaining unusable by any other customer until that time. It's no use putting smart technology in the hands of "job's worth" idiots like these. Casting pearls before swine doesn't even come close.

To add to the misery, I found some more shopping to bring back. That involved queuing the length of the shop while some vacuous pre-teen worked slowly though the endless queue. Her colleagues of similarly illegitimate age, pretended to shelf fill while we all waited, in vain, for a second till to open.  Just above our heads, as if to rub it in, hung a huge sign displaying the words: "It's quick. Only four to a queue!" Lies, damned lies and Danish bløødy supermarkets! You know the one: False advertising of special offers, which never, ever appear on the shelves. Begins with "FU."

A student, stick insect was standing in front of me, waiting his turn. When all his best friends arrived and joined him in the queue. This might have been innocent enough if these three extras on the stage of life, were merely keeping him company. But no, when they reached the appropriate point they each needed to select their sweets and their cold fizzy drinks [from the cooler] and then to ask for their cigarettes from behind the till operator and then each pay individually [and slowly] with their money-free "Mummy's paying!" phone apps.

I could tell they were all officially qualified at advanced queue jumping because they were each wearing their white students caps to prove it. I was actually shocked that they weren't each carrying a crate of beer and demanding a liter of spirits each to wash it all down. Like they usually do. Are they called Gymnasium students because they are all there on a sports pass? Thereby avoiding the inevitable fail at the entrance exam in basic good manners? Whatever! 20 mostly hilly miles today. And don't even get me started on this endless, hot, bløødy weather!!

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