Tag: eBay

It never rains…

but it pours.

I’ve not been blogging much of late because nothing was happening, then, like the proverbial bus, three come along at once.

I bought Wendy a skirt off eBay a few weeks ago from  Lilith’s Gothic Crypt. Take note of the name and tell everyone you know of it. When it finally arrived I thought my troubles were over (getting any communication out of the seller was a problem, then the postal strikes- a pox on the Royal Mail!). A few days later I thought to ask Wendy about it and she admitted that she would never be able to wear it because it was so poorly made. The waistband had been sown twisted in several places, it looked cheap and tacky, and the seem didn’t hang right making the skirt look puckered at the bottom.

I wrote to the thrice damned Lilith’s Gothic Crypt, enclosing photo’s and asking for a refund, and saying if I didn’t receive a reply within a week I would be leaving feedback. I did try to sort it through eBay’s resolution centre, but because the seller had put ‘no returns’ on the advert I got an automatic response saying that a refund wasn’t available.

Which, by the by, is (as I understand it) illegal, anyway. The distance selling regulations say that I am entitled to a refund. Her stating that she doesn’t do refunds does not affect that. That would be a contractual right, which can be added to a statutory right but can never take away from one. I remember that much from my brief stint as a Citizens Advice volunteer.

I was ignored, as I was kind of expecting given the previous level of communication. I left feedback saying ‘Crap comms, worse product, no refund. Waist sown twisted, seams off. DO NOT BUY FROM!’, and left it at that. I thought that was just £25 I’d have to put down to experience, and at least I’d left shitty feedback.

Then I got an email off eBay saying they’d removed my feedback because of it’s offensive content!

No sirree bob! Straight onto them and cancelled my account. Bastards!

Tomorrow Wendy is going to print off the distance selling regulations, then I get to write a letter quoting the regulations and if I’m still ignored I’m then referring  it to the Office of Fair Trading and the Financial Ombudsman Service who automatically impose a £250 fine I’ve just found out.

Justice will be mine!

What other news, oh aye, they finally got the new rigid trucks in today at work. Big huzzah’s! Went into the office, said the new rigid’s are here, what about my driving?

To no-one’s surprise they instantly moved the goalposts. Now they are waiting for the volume to pick up then they can send me for an assessment. 

An assessment! That is not Warehouse-to-wheels, there is no training in that. I’ve paid for my training, got my licenses, all I need is a day or two with a driver beside me to show me the job and get my confidence up and they won’t even do that!

An assessment. I could have taken that straight after passing, when the driving was still fresh in my head, but I wanted to make it easier on myself and get the final part of warehouse to wheels.

All that hot air boils down to a vague promise that at some point I can have an assessment. I’ve been waiting for months for fuck all. Thanks for nothing.

I’ve been given a few hot tips for potential employers but they are not recruiting at the moment. Promising though.

I have a day off tomorrow so I will be double checking my T.A. application (didn’t send the attachments back with the last email, oops) and getting that off again. Checking the job centre and a few other sites, and generally trying anything to get me out of my current job. Bastards!

My only other real news is that my attempt to break free from the tyranny of T-mobile (on my ‘phone) has failed! The internet company said they couldn’t get the code (remotely) to unlock it so I am going to try a place in town tomorrow.

Lovely, lovely, lie-in tomorrow!



IAM, I’m me

Hello, I’m back. I’ve finally come down off my ‘pass’ high, well, a bit. I’ve got the paperwork through for that IAM (Institute of Advanced Motoring) jobby, with the accompanying ‘How not to drive like a muppet’ book. Apparently it’s to teach you how to drive like a copper. I’m not up to the chapter on mastering a Masonic handshake whilst drunk, but most of what I have read so far is fairly obvious. Common sense and the basics you were taught in driving lessons. Just a matter of applying it at all times. So that’s looking promising. Doubtless my next blog will be entitled ‘101 things I didn’t know about driving’, after I take my assessment.

I’ve posted a new photo’ of Wendy’s new kit from the Dark Angel. Which reminds me; (as in the photo’ she’s stood on the new flags I had to lay) my bloody kick bag! I got it for about £20 off th’eBay but she who must be obeyed wouldn’t let me hang it in the spare room. So I had to buy a big bracket, (which doubled the price, with P&P) and hang it outside. Did that, as I mentioned in an earlier blog. When it stopped raining I went into the garden to kick the crap out of it. Only to find that for the correct kicking distance I had to stand with my back foot off the flags and on the muddy garden. Also if I did a front or back kick the bag hit the very abrasive brick wall. So I had to put that on hold whilst I went and got some flags, sand, and a smooth back plate for the bag (tripling the price of the bag!). Laid and fitted them yesterday, then kicked seven bells out the bag. Oh indeedy yes! That was fun, did some more today. My feet are all bruised and battered, and my hands a bit scraped and swollen, but it feels good.

I’m sure I’ve not mentioned what I came on here to say, but I can’t think what it could be, it’s midnight and the Wendster has to go god-bothering in the morning so will be making ‘STOP TYPING, NOW!’. sounds any second. So it’s beddy bo’s for Bucky.



Moving goalposts

Hello again.

I was window shopping on eBay the other day, as usual it was stuff I hadn’t even considered I wanted prior to seeing it, but immediately realised my life would be incomplete without it. For instance a red oak bo (a quarterstaff). Although since seeing "Monkey" as a kid I have always had a desire to be able to whirl a  bo like a cheerleader on speed, I have never taken a lesson, would not know where to begin, and in all reality would almost certainly never be called upon to use such a skill if I could acquire it. Still I realised upon seeing it that I really needed a red oak bo. And worse, one item invariably leads to another (a black silk Kung Fu suit from China, must have!). Then I stumbled across a Chinese supplier of ‘cheap’ (still over £200) saxophones!

Suddenly I had a flashback to when I was about 20 years old. My ambitions in life were; to become a black belt, own a Harley Davidson chop (stylised customisation) and own and be able to play a saxophone like ‘Blue Lou’ in the Blues Brothers.

I’m 42 years old and I have finally started down the road to achieving my young dreams. The black belt (s) are only a matter of time and sweat. When I get a well paid driving job I will be getting back on two wheels, and it just so happens as well as being the loveliest bikes on the road, Harley’s are about one of the slowest. A chop being slower yet, so not as much danger to life, license and livelihood. And now I’ve remembered, as soon as the money starts coming in I’m going to get a sax again, and learn how to play the damn thing.

Sad in a way that two out of my three ambitions were manufactured for me by Hollywood! Bruce Lee (who followed on from Monkey as a martial arts hero) the unbeatable fighter, and Blue Lou, a long haired geezer who’s one laudable attribute was the ability to make a sax sing. This is coolness young person, emulate!

Although the media have always banged on about Harley’s being cool, it was being given a lift home on a friends bike that sold me on them, and indeed motorcycling.

Hmm, more worldly desires. Things are looking challenging in the Buddha field.

My bracket (from which to hang the punch/kick bag) finally arrived this morning. I ordered it on the 29th of December. I was waiting patiently, as I was under the impression it was coming from Scotland, and the racial stereotype says all Scots will be drunk throughout the whole of December. It got to the 5th though and I was getting a bit miffed. Then I went back on the website and discovered it was coming from Staffordshire, and the geezer running the firm speaks English, Urdu, and Punjabi! Now that’s a whole other kettle of fish! The stereotype for Indian / Pakistani chaps is one of industrious service. I wrote an email and it arrived the next day. I suppose my order had been lost in the holiday season.

So I spent  a few hours today sorting out the garden so I could hang the bag, and wandering around B&Q wondering how in hell I was going to construct an  awning to keep the bag dry. In the end I gave up, I think I would have had to resort to woodwork, at which I am slightly better than breathing underwater.

So much ado about very little. Still the frame is up, and holds my weight, so when it stops raining I’m ready to set to kicking.

I’m off to TKD tonight, so I’m not too disappointed about not getting to kick it today.

Right, offski,