This has been a much belabored theme for me, but how did these people EVER rule a quarter of the globe????????????

Today my roommate gets a vexed call from Mark, the landlord's handyman/manager/enforcer/toadie claiming that not all of the rent is payed. It turns out that the shortage comes on my end. This is inconceivable to me, as I was the second of us to set up a standing order with the bank to ensure my rent is payed. In fact, I received a letter from them yesterday which I didn't bother to read until today. When I read this letter today it said:


"Thank you for your standing order request. Unfortunately we have been unable to act upon your request. This is because there is no standing order to amend. We are enclosing a copy of the following:

A copy of your standing order

Please send us the information required, to enable us to help you."

What the fuck is this??? Some sort of lesson in existentialist banking? Am I supposed to ponder the mysteries of moving money that only exists conceptually as numbers in a computer? I still can't make head nor tail of it.

Actually, I can. Here is my translation:

"The teller who took your standing order was too fucking lazy to process it. After all, it was tea time. This is the UK, and companies do not take complaints here. Ergo, fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Enjoy this great inconvenience."

So I had to trundle through the rain to the bank to straighten this out. Of course, this was a great time for the zipper on my backpack to totally come apart and spew my papers all over the street. (and I really wanted to buy a new one to replace the one I just bought 2 weeks ago) In any event, I give the letter and the copy of the standing order to the teller at Lloyd's. The conversation goes a bit like this:

Teller: I don't understand this.
Me: That makes two of us.
Teller: But this IS the standing order.
Me: And yet, it apparently isn't.
Teller: This is my signature on the bottom... did I help you before?
Me: Well I don't think "helped" would be an appropriate word to use. (ok I didn't really say that... I did make a wiseass comment about existentialism though that went over her head)
Teller: What do you want me to do?
Me: Well, I still need this order filled.
Manager: Do you have internet banking.
Me: Yes, but I've nev....
Manager: WELLTHATWOULDJUSTBEEASIER
Me: Can't YOU just do it here?
Teller: You want me to re-fax it.
Me: Yes, I would like that.



So whether or not the landlord will actually get the money from my account, I don't know. To be honest, I dont' really give a fuck. He has been a bastard... left us without a shower for WEEKS, lied to us (well his shifty agent did) about which appliances we would have, and left the place filthy. Furthermore, he won't even condescend to speak to any of us.. though I've written him a letter of complaint. If he really wanted his money on time, he should have given me his bank details more than 3 days before rent was due. I missed class today as it was (that motherfucker).

I'm certainly not setting up a joint account with my roomates... The landlord certainly hasn't made MY life any easier. The thing that really pisses me off about this is it knocks down my clout with my flatmates. Now *I* am the guy who was late with rent.. and when I try to bitch about them cleaning, paying bills, buying necessities, not making their German girlfriend moan all to holy hell... they're going to tell me I didn't pay the rent!


I also went to see the Patriach of Constantinople give a speech tonight... more on that tomorrow.

For now, here is something for my favorite Thai with smelly feet and favorite girl who is dating a Thai:



Memories of Europe


This one is even better.

And to think these weren't hits stateside!