Come back Spuggy, all is forgiven.

Watched a controversial documentary last night in disbelief. Still in shock. Geordie Shore is fucking dreadful and full of pricks.

Tara Court

For a good friends birthday I once had a Saturday night out in Bigg Market in Newcastle. For a brief moment I felt as though I’d stepped onto the set of a film based in some nightmarish post-apocalyptic future. A selection of creatures surrounded me, loosely humanoid in nature, shrieking, bawling and vomiting. The kind of place where a Deep Fried Snickers bar was considered Haute cuisine and the mantra of the night seemed to be “Why-aye man, therv got free shots!”. Fascinated by their tribal rituals as I was – albeit they mostly seemed related to mating and swearing - it was clear I was unwelcome there. I was wearing a coat for starters. It’s without a doubt one of the most terrifying God-forsaken spots in which I’ve ever found myself, and I live in Coventry and I've even ventured to Nuneaton. Eventually, and without loss to our party, we made our escape.

When Obi-Wan described Mos Eisley to Luke Skywalker with the words “You’ll never find a bigger hive of scum and villainy” there’s a visible shudder as he recalls his brief time in Bigg Market – “You’ll never find a bigger hive of self-obsessed loutish twats”.

So, after the brilliance of the Terry Pratchett documentary on Assisted Suicide, some channel flicking took place. And MTV once again found itself on my television. And in one fell swoop we moved from the absolute pinnacle of broadcasting quality to the absolute nadir.

At first glance it appears that MTV have created a new television show solely by driving a black unmarked van into Bigg Market on a Saturday night, covering the back with some neon and luminous Aftershock stained vomit and a crudely written sign bearing the legend “Free Shots here”, waited for ten minutes, locked the back door, switched off the ridiculously loud “unce unce unce unce” dance music and driven off.

So, Geordie Shore. A show to join the pantheon of other quality shows available on MTV now they can’t be bothered playing music any more. If you’ve never seen it, Well done you. Have a lollypop. Avoid it.  Consider this my favour to you - watching telly shows and getting angry about them so you don't have to. Think of the raised blood pressure I've spared you.

It’s a reality TV series in which eight fatuous and vacuous (and various other words ending with ‘ous’) preening twats share a house together – a kind of Big Brother where they’re not locked in but should be – and we watch the hilarious outcome from the inevitable conflict of personalities.

Sounds like a fascinating social experiment, am I right? Except of course, for one fundamental flaw in that not a single one of the 8 subjects possesses anything that, by any stretch of the imagination, could be referred to as a personality. It's hardly even worth them having names, such is the level of their genericism. The man are all preening, gurning, overly-aggressive idiots obsessed with but three things; not wearing a top, drinking and fucking. And the girls are exactly the same.

And they're all absolutely vile. They all closely resemble Auton replicas of real people, overly tanned and vaguely plastic-like in appearance. Clothing is next to non-existent due to the searing climes of Newcastle; I imagine the female cast of this show could quite happily fit their entire wardrobes into a shoe-box as their clothes mostly seem to consist of shoe-laces, dental floss and ribbon. And the blokes? Much like the men in My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, it appears that vests are back this year. For fucking idiots.

When of the casts ridiculously inflated pair of tits demonstrate more intelligence than their owner, you know something has gone terribly, terribly wrong with the planet.

I'm struggling to even remember if any of the cast even have names.

DPD Couriers are shit

Having refused the lure of the iphone, I ordered a sparkly new HTC Desire from Orange on Thursday.  I paid an extra eleven quid for Saturday delivery, and duly waited.

Got a text from their Courier firm (DPD) this morning telling me it would be delivered between 12:48 and 13:48.  So far, so impressed - until I checked the tracking status of my order at half one today to find said phone has apparently was delivered at 13:11 and signed for an OBRIAN.

The name doesn't mean anything to me; definitely not one of my neighbours.  Added to the fact that no DPD delivery van has been down my quiet cul-de-sac all day - no attempted delivery was even made.

Tried to call DPD, but you guessed it - their offices are closed until Monday.  Next option was to ring Orange.  After several long periods of being put back on hold, I was told that they can't get in touch with DPD either.  Pretty much all they could do was stop the new SIM being used.  I have to ring DPD on Monday, apparently - when I tried to explain that that should really be their job, I was informed that it wasn't.

I'll see how quickly this fuck up gets resolved to see whether I should consider cancelling my existing Orange contract.

So some fucker has my new phone, and until Monday I can't even find out where it actually is.  Glad I've hung around throughout today waiting for it to be delivered.

Fuckers.

UPDATE: Rang Orange customer services again yesterday evening to state how unhappy I was that I'd be the person who had to chase the couriers.  Spoke to a helpful chap named Matthew who said that this definitely was NOT the case, that obviously it was Oranges responsibility to track down the phone, and that I should ring the sales department after 9 a.m. the following day to resolve the issue.

UPDATE 2: After being stuck inside all day waiting for a delivery that never came, made a trip to the pub for some much needed beer - after being out of the house for about an hour got home to find a hand written note hanging out of the letterbox:

PARCEL DELIVERED TO WRONG ADDRESS
NO ANSWER AT YOUR DOOR
PARCEL BEHIND DUSTBIN

And, you guessed it, there is no parcel behind my dustbin.  FUUUUUUUUUCK.

So, I am ringing Oranges sales department when they open.  If they can't provide me with a phone by the end of play today, they can cancel my contract.

Update 3: Rang Oranges sales department at 9 a.m. on the dot.  Explained the whole situation again to the guy at the end of the phone - Orange seem incapable of taking customer notes down - with the exciting addition of the note.  "Ah, this changes everything", he said.

They now have to begin an investigation with DPD which could drag on for some time.  At the end of the day I don't get my new phone, and have to write a disclaimer to Orange telling them that I didn't steal the phone.  I pointed out to the guy that I don't like to be labelled a thief, but wrote the email anyway.

Laura,

* Ordered HTC Desire phone on Thursday 15th July 2010 after speaking to one of your representatives.

* Received SMS informing me of dispatch 16th July.

* Received SMS from DPD informing me of delivery on the 17th between 12:48 and 13:48

* Checked online status of consignment number 2907 838 302 at 13:30

* Device had been signed for an AOBRIAN at 13:11 - no idea who this is or where he lives.

* Rang your customer services department to be told I'd need to speak to the couriers on Monday - this frankly amazes me.

* Rang back later to say how ridiculous this is - my contract is between myself and Orange, not myself and DPD.  Was told to ring your sales department at 09:00 on the Sunday.

* In the meantime whilst I was out received hand written note through my door; "parcel delivered to wrong address  no answer at your door  parcel behind dustbin"

No indication of where note came from, no parcel behind bin.

Spoke to your customer services department today - was told to email this through.  

I want the phone cancelled - I ordered it for Saturday delivery because oddly enough I wanted it for the Saturday.  I would also like to be reimbursed for the eleven pounds I was charged for a non-existent Saturday delivery, and rest assured I will be cancelling my contract on my other phone when it expires

I'm abhorred by the fact I'm having to send this like I'm the criminal.  If I'd known you were using DPD as a courier - who we dropped six months ago for being utterly useless - I'd have stuck with ordering it from my usual online mobile provider who I've previously had no problems with.

I'm utterly appalled.

David Court

Impotent letter-writing rage. GRRRRRR.  Still, a happy ending.  Went into Carphone Warehouse, picked up a sim free HTC Desire and will continue to use my Orange SIM in that until my contract expires, and then I'll simply get a SIM only contract with another phone company.  What a weekend.

EDIT as of 21/01/2014: Well, imagine my dismay when something I ordered turned out to be delivered by them - and it couldn't have gone better.  You're now given an accurate delivery date and time and a website shows you the progress of the courier, what drop number you are and where they are at the moment. Utterly brilliant and the best service I've had from a courier in a long time.   It only falls slightly short of telling you what he's listening to in the van, his star sign and what he's having/had for dinner.  So I'd like to officially say that DPD Couriers are no longer shit.