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Come back Postman Pat — 14 Comments

  1. What I find difficult to comprehend is how the fuck do they manage to spend €27,000,000 on something that a couple of schoolboys could work out in a couple of afternoons?

    I realise that they've gone to massive lengths to make it as complex and unwieldy as possible, so perhaps I could grant them a couple of undergraduates working on it for a week, but twenty seven fucking million? What the fuck did they do with it all?

      • That's Susan Sarandon, right? She was much nicer as a nun in Dead Man Walking. She exuded a joi-de-vivre in the road movie Thelma & Louise. But if she nukes the ghost estate in my town I'll forgive her.

        • Or Sigourney Weaver?  I haven't seen the film but it looks like an extract from "Aliens"?  Just a guess…..

  2. I reckon it is because your mob of synchophants have to use the EU Gallileo GPS project which has been a disaster from the start. Apparently it is capable of tracking every vehicle simultaneously on the roads in Europe down to a depth of 15 meters, ( so the tunnels under the alps are fucked then ). You have to wonder what can possibly go wrong?

  3. My house on my street is the only one with a number on the door. If the postman wants to deliver bills and other unwelcome mail he drives 25 metres along the street west from the post office, swings sharp right into a lane that skirts the side of McGuff's supermarket, stops at a crossroads then drives about 100 metres up the facing lane until he sees a block of terraced semi-detached houses. Number 4 [with a big 4 on the front door] is the fourth house along [a knowledge of basic maths helps] , and there is no pet dog around. All he has to do is trundle up the front garden footpath and shove letters through my bleeding letterbox. As for the town where I live, shur everybody knows it's in the north-east of the county about 24km from a certain city the tourists stop to have their lunches in. Who needs fancy codes; who needs Satnav; who needs the CIA or Mossad to find my home? Our town has a ghost estate, a closed garda barracks, a corner convenience shop that closed ten years ago when the owner died, and one thriving funeral home. Dying is the only viable business in our town and many others. They could have spent the 27 million more effectively on us. And every town house in the country should have a number on the front door.

    • Damn!!  It sounds like you live next door to me [judging by those directions]?  I'm in No 5, though the number has never been used, nor does it appear anywhere except on the old key  that came with the house.  Call in for a cuppa sometime.

    • Heh! Here where I live, I have a five digit postcode which covers pretty much all the north of the island. We don't have street names, and no house numbers either. Post goes to the local sub-post office just up the road, where I have to go to collect it. These days, if it's registered or a parcel, the postman knows my mobile number and calls me. We usually arrange to meet up either at the main post office in the area, or at his son's grill restaurant, where he will give me the goods in exchange for a signature. It's all rather informal.

      Most of my bills these days are paperless, and just plonk themselves in my inbox to await my attention.

  4. 27 million!?!!  WTF?  Our entire country has Zip Codes, a simple 5 digit number.  Mine is 17110.  I grew up in 17109 and some where in Minnesota or Wisconsin or one of those states you harbor a little doubt whether they exist or not is the Zip Code 12345.  Every one knows that Beverly Hills, Ca is 90120.  I want to know who got the 27 million!

  5. No, "every other country" doesn't have postcodes.  Hong Kong doesn't and neither (I think) does Nigeria!  Yet, mysteriously, the post still seems to get there somehow.  Goodness me!  I wonder how they do it – perhaps they employ people (yes, real people) who – err – know where folks live …

  6. I suspect a huge transfer of 'public money' into private pockets/wallets/accounts/ has taken place now which organisation is better placed than the mafia t achieve such feats aka government…of the people by the people for the people or so the fairy tale goes.

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