Below is a copy of a letter that won a competition in UK as complaint letter of the year...have a laugh and
read on.
Complaint Letter of the Year. The British do have a way with words.... A real-life customer complaint
letter sent to NTL (to their complaints dept....)
Dear Cretins,
I have been an NTL customer since 9th July 2001, when I signed up for
your 3-in-one deal for cable TV, cable modem, and telephone. During this
three-month period I have encountered inadequacy of service which I had
not previously considered possible, as well as ignorance and stupidity
of monolithic proportions. Please allow me to provide specific details,
so that you can either pursue your professional perogative, and seek to
rectify these difficulties - or more likely (I suspect) so that you can
have some entertaining reading material as you while away the working
day smoking B&H and drinking vendor-coffee on the bog in your office:
My initial installation was cancelled without warning, resulting in my
spending an entire Saturday sitting on my fat arse waiting for your
technician to arrive. When he did not arrive, I spent a further 57
minutes listening to your infuriating hold music, and the even more
annoying Scottish robot woman telling me to look at your helpful
website....HOW?
I alleviated the boredom by playing with my testicles for a few minutes
- an activity at which you are no-doubt both familiar and highly adept.
The rescheduled installation then took place some two weeks later,
although the technician did forget to bring a number of vital tools -
such as a drill-bit, and his cerebrum. Two weeks later, my cable modem
had still not arrived. After 15 telephone calls over 4 weeks my modem
arrived... six weeks after I had requested it, and begun to pay for it.
I estimate your internet server's downtime is roughly 35%... hours
between about 6pm -midnight, Mon-Fri, and most of the weekend. I am
still waiting for my telephone connection. I have made 9 calls on my
mobile to your no-help line, and have been unhelpfully transferred to a
variety of disinterested individuals, who are it seems also highly
skilled bollock jugglers.
I have been informed that a telephone line is available (and someone
will call me back); that no telephone line is available (and someone
will call me back); that I will be transferred to someone who knows
whether or not a telephone line is available (and then been cut off);
that I will be transferred to someone (and then been redirected to an
answer machine informing me that your office is closed); that I will be
transferred to someone and then been redirected to the irritating
Scottish robot woman...and several other variations on this theme.
Doubtless you are no longer reading this letter, as you have at least a
thousand other dissatisfied customers to ignore, and also another one of
those crucially important testicle-moments to attend to. Frankly I don't
care, it's far more satisfying as a customer to voice my frustration's
in print than to shout them at your unending hold music. Forgive me,
therefore, if I continue.
I thought BT were shit, that they had attained the holy piss-pot of godawful
customer relations, that no-one, anywhere, ever, could be more
disinterested, less helpful or more obstructive to delivering service to
their customers. That's why I chose NTL, and because, well, there isn't
anyone else is there? How surprised I therefore was, when I discovered
to my considerable dissatisfaction and disappointment what a useless
shower of bastards you truly are. You are sputum-filled pieces of
distended rectum incompetents of the highest order.
British Telecom - wankers though they are - shine like brilliant beacons
of success, in the filthy puss-filled mire of your seemingly limitless
inadequacy. Suffice to say that I have now given up on my futile and
foolhardy quest to receive any kind of service from you. I suggest that
you cease any potential future atte

>>>
>>> Artery......................... The study of paintings.
>>> Bacteria....................... Back door to cafeteria.
>>> Barium......................... What doctors do when patients
die.
>>> Benign........................ .What you be, after you be eight.
>>> Caesarean Section...............A neighbourhood in Rome.
>>> Catscan........................ Searching for Kitty.
>>> Cauterize...................... Made eye contact with her.
>>> Colic.......................... A sheep dog.
>>> Coma........................... A punctuation mark.
>>> Dilate......................... To live long.
>>> Enema.......................... Not a friend.
>>> Fester......................... Quicker than someone else.
>>> Fibula......................... A small lie.
>>> Impotent....................... Distinguished, well known.
>>> Labour Pain.....................Getting hurt at work.
>>> Medical Staff.................. A Doctor's cane.
>>> Morbid......................... A higher offer.
>>> Nitrates....................... Cheaper than day rates.
>>> Node........................... I knew it.
>>> Outpatient..................... A person who has fainted.
>>> Pelvis......................... Second cousin to Elvis.
>>> Post Operative................. A letter carrier.
>>> Recovery Room.................. Place to do upholstery.
>>> Rectum......................... Nearly killed him.
>>> Secretion...................... Hiding something.
>>> Seizure........................ Roman emperor.
>>> Tablet......................... A small table.
>>> Terminal Illness............... Getting sick at the airport.
>>> Tumour..........................On
 e plus one more.
>>> Urine.......................... Opposite of you're out.
>>> 2xCondoms.......................To be sure, to be sure!
>>>

SOCIALISM: You have 2 cows and you give one to your neighbour.

COMMUNISM: You have 2 cows; the Government takes both and gives you some milk.

FASCISM:Y ou have 2 cows; the Government takes both and sells you some milk.

NAZISM: You have 2 cows. The Government takes both and shoots you.

BUREAUCRATISM: You have 2 cows; the Government takes both, shoots one, milks the other and throws the milk away...

TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows. You sell them and retire on the income.

AN AMERICAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows. Later, you hire a consultant to analyze why the cow dropped dead.

A FRENCH CORPORATION: You have two cows. You go on strike because you want three cows.

A JAPANESE CORPORATION: You have two cows. You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk. You then create a clever cow cartoon image called Cowkimon and market them World-Wide.

A GERMAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You reengineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.

AN ITALIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows, but you don't know where they are. You break for lunch.

A RUSSIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You count them and learn you have five cows. You count them again and learn you have 42 cows. You count them again and learn you have 2 cows. You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.

A SWISS CORPORATION: You have 5000 cows, none of which belong to you. You charge others for storing them.

A CHINESE CORPORATION: You have two cows. You have 300 people milking them. You claim full employment, high bovine productivity, and arrest the newsman who reported the numbers.

AN INDIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You worship them.

A BRITISH CORPORATION: You have two cows. Both are mad.

AN IRISH FARMER: You have two cows. You claim government subsidies for eight cows.