the miscellaneous update of the day
why Rivers Cuomo has disappointed me, by Mark aged twenty four and three quarters
I'm quite enjoying this writing lark.
New hours start next week, which is quite exciting, isn't it?
One more to add to my ever-expanding file of tales from Rip Off Britain (yes, the phrase deserves capitals): I bought some guitar parts from warmoth.com a couple of weeks ago, and got the little Royal Mail card through the door on Saturday, that nicely informed me "we can't deliver your item because there's a fee to pay". Damn those customs charges. Anyway, I went to the RM website to pay for it, and only at the conclusion of the transaction do I get this heartwarming message:
Item details
Date: Saturday February 16, 2008
Fee to pay:
£12.30
Fee to pay because:
There's a Customs charge
Note: This amount includes either a £8 Customs clearance charge or a £1 handling fee for an underpaid item.
Now, I don't mind paying me taxes (honest, officer) but I DO object to paying eight pounds for the privilege of having a mail drone reading the Customs label on the front of the parcel and punching a few buttons on a calculator to work out how much of the aforementioned tax I owe to uncle Gordon. What choice did I have, though, really?
I'm quite enjoying this writing lark.
New hours start next week, which is quite exciting, isn't it?
One more to add to my ever-expanding file of tales from Rip Off Britain (yes, the phrase deserves capitals): I bought some guitar parts from warmoth.com a couple of weeks ago, and got the little Royal Mail card through the door on Saturday, that nicely informed me "we can't deliver your item because there's a fee to pay". Damn those customs charges. Anyway, I went to the RM website to pay for it, and only at the conclusion of the transaction do I get this heartwarming message:
Item details
Date: Saturday February 16, 2008
Fee to pay:
£12.30
Fee to pay because:
There's a Customs charge
Note: This amount includes either a £8 Customs clearance charge or a £1 handling fee for an underpaid item.
Now, I don't mind paying me taxes (honest, officer) but I DO object to paying eight pounds for the privilege of having a mail drone reading the Customs label on the front of the parcel and punching a few buttons on a calculator to work out how much of the aforementioned tax I owe to uncle Gordon. What choice did I have, though, really?