Just in case you were worrying that this post was going to be about some silly love song ("Four hundred children and a crop in the field.") - it isn't. It's the latest in the saga of the Mighty Liverpool Victoria Insurance Company and the Dead Badger.
A piece of marketing junk arrived the other day from none other than the Mighty Liverpool Victoria Insurance Company: "Here when you need us most" - which was an interesting take on things when they had just taken 14 days, less a few hours to replace a couple of bits of broken plastic on the front of my car, and left me stranded without a car for five days.
Actually they didn't replace a couple of bits of broken plastic. In fact I'm not sure what they did, but it cost £1,700. And no - that's not a typo. What I do know is that they recharged the air conditioning because they thought it wasn't working (had the switch in the wrong position) - and charged that to the insurance company. And they left a small dent in the drivers side wing which I noticed when I got home. And they valetted the car - which was nice of them - and did something to the brakes.
What I'm trying to say is that being a vehicle repairer and charging insurance companies for unnecessary work seems to get you a mighty good living - no questions asked - which we all have to pay for. Contrast that with the £10 per day that the Mighty Liverpool Victoria Insurance company offer when your courtesy car isn't there just when you need it most..... Hmmm.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
On yer bike...!
In the latest act of the Mighty Liverpool Victoria insurance company Bodyshop Connect Stafford and the Dead Badger saga I find myself the proud driver of a Chevrolet.
But this isn't the fire breathing, rubber burning, gas guzzling Muscle Machine of a Chevvy that we have come to know and love - more like a tupperware box on castors.
"You'll have to get used to the power." said the recovery driver when he dropped it off his car transporter. (The badgers are safe - it won't go fast enough to kill anything.) The same car transporter that he was expecting to use to collect my dead VW Golf - the one which was about 40ft long without a lift he was expecting to back onto my drive. I don't think so...!
So having left me with my Chevvy and departed without my car I awaited for the next call from the Mighty Liverpool Victoria "We can't organise a Pissup in a Brewery" Customer Service Team. Actually - I didn't wait because I figured it might be at least another three years before I heard anything. However, I did indeed get a call from Clare, their Chief Apologist "We can offer you compensation of £10 per day for the excessive time you have been without a replacement vehicle. To say nothing of the trillions of calls you made to the muppets on our helpdesk who can't even work out that you are making a complaint and just put you on hold then back into the queuing system for good measure."
Having pointed out that £40 would hardly cover a taxi fare these days and that maybe she had noticed that my renewal comes up in March she went away to talk to "Head Office".
I'm still holding my breath.....
But this isn't the fire breathing, rubber burning, gas guzzling Muscle Machine of a Chevvy that we have come to know and love - more like a tupperware box on castors.
"You'll have to get used to the power." said the recovery driver when he dropped it off his car transporter. (The badgers are safe - it won't go fast enough to kill anything.) The same car transporter that he was expecting to use to collect my dead VW Golf - the one which was about 40ft long without a lift he was expecting to back onto my drive. I don't think so...!
So having left me with my Chevvy and departed without my car I awaited for the next call from the Mighty Liverpool Victoria "We can't organise a Pissup in a Brewery" Customer Service Team. Actually - I didn't wait because I figured it might be at least another three years before I heard anything. However, I did indeed get a call from Clare, their Chief Apologist "We can offer you compensation of £10 per day for the excessive time you have been without a replacement vehicle. To say nothing of the trillions of calls you made to the muppets on our helpdesk who can't even work out that you are making a complaint and just put you on hold then back into the queuing system for good measure."
Having pointed out that £40 would hardly cover a taxi fare these days and that maybe she had noticed that my renewal comes up in March she went away to talk to "Head Office".
I'm still holding my breath.....
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Sticking it where the sun don't shine
Have you ever met someone from The Committee who grabs the rule book and promptly dissappears up their own backside with it? Yes? Thought so. It never ceases to amaze me how much brainpower can be applied to finding reasons for not doing perfectly sensible things rather than finding ways of making them happen.
Suffice to say, because of my 360 degree feedback services I find myself in a small group of freelance HR professionals who meet from time to time calling ourselves The SIG. Not surprisingly our attention was turned towards finding ways of promoting ourselves - and as a first step we now have a rudimentary website about our HR services.
So where does the rule book come in? Well - we are a part of the local branch of the CIPD and if The Committee is to be believed it is against our code of professional conduct to promote ourselves. Hmmmm.... Still trying to puzzle that one out.
Suffice to say, because of my 360 degree feedback services I find myself in a small group of freelance HR professionals who meet from time to time calling ourselves The SIG. Not surprisingly our attention was turned towards finding ways of promoting ourselves - and as a first step we now have a rudimentary website about our HR services.
So where does the rule book come in? Well - we are a part of the local branch of the CIPD and if The Committee is to be believed it is against our code of professional conduct to promote ourselves. Hmmmm.... Still trying to puzzle that one out.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Growling at the badger
When I saw the low form of a badger appear in the headlights late on Wednesday night little did I realise the extent to which the mighty Liverpool Victoria insurance company were about to start ruling my life. Badgers, I have now discovered, are substantially bigger and heavier than you might think, and the somewhat louder impact than I was expecting was followed shortly afterwards by a barrage of beeping and flashing lights from the car telling me that I needed to check the coolant level.
This did not sound good and rather suggested significant damage to the car. Fortunately I was only about a mile from home and managed to make it back. On inspection the next morning it turned out that one of the radiator hoses had been torn off by the impact and damaged. Other than that some expensive looking bits of plastic were mangled and I figured a call to the insurers was in order.
"They are the in things to hit at the moment." said the girl on the claims desk. "They're heavy things to hit." said the girls on the repair desk. "Is the badger alright?" said the next one I spoke to. "The badger's fine. It's in Badger Heaven - just my car is in bits."
That was on Thursday morning. As I write this late on Friday night my car is still in bits on the drive and I'm told I should have a replacement car on Monday - should. Of course, we should be able to live without cars. But when you live in the country and your children live seventy miles away it's easier said than done. The X64 bus will occassionally take you into sunny Stoke on Trent but there is no guarantee that it will bring you back again and that's about it.
So - dear Patrick and Philippa. I'm sitting here writing this in bed when I should be with you. I miss you both very much and one way and another, despite having friends like Liverpool Victoria somehow or other I will get to see you this week. Dad.
This did not sound good and rather suggested significant damage to the car. Fortunately I was only about a mile from home and managed to make it back. On inspection the next morning it turned out that one of the radiator hoses had been torn off by the impact and damaged. Other than that some expensive looking bits of plastic were mangled and I figured a call to the insurers was in order.
"They are the in things to hit at the moment." said the girl on the claims desk. "They're heavy things to hit." said the girls on the repair desk. "Is the badger alright?" said the next one I spoke to. "The badger's fine. It's in Badger Heaven - just my car is in bits."
That was on Thursday morning. As I write this late on Friday night my car is still in bits on the drive and I'm told I should have a replacement car on Monday - should. Of course, we should be able to live without cars. But when you live in the country and your children live seventy miles away it's easier said than done. The X64 bus will occassionally take you into sunny Stoke on Trent but there is no guarantee that it will bring you back again and that's about it.
So - dear Patrick and Philippa. I'm sitting here writing this in bed when I should be with you. I miss you both very much and one way and another, despite having friends like Liverpool Victoria somehow or other I will get to see you this week. Dad.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Burning Bush
In a little noticed article in the Independent on Sunday we start to discover just how isolated the Whitehouse Muppet has become in his attitude towards climate change. "Senate's Environment and Public Works Committee voted 11-8 to cut emissions by about 70 per cent by 2050. This would make the US a world leader in tackling global warming." What's more a second bill passed by the House of Representatives by a 235-181 vote will force through real changes such as improved fuel efficiency of road vehicles, greater use of biofuels and renewable electricity generation, and the banning of conventional light bulbs.
And how is all this to be paid for? By repealing a $13bn (£6.4bn) tax break for big oil companies. Not surprisingly Bush has vowed to fight the Bills. Clearly he'd rather go down in flames than acknowledge that not before time the eight year headache he's given the entire planet is about to come to a dramatic end.
And how is all this to be paid for? By repealing a $13bn (£6.4bn) tax break for big oil companies. Not surprisingly Bush has vowed to fight the Bills. Clearly he'd rather go down in flames than acknowledge that not before time the eight year headache he's given the entire planet is about to come to a dramatic end.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Mandarin fingerprints..
I've been reading the reports of HMRC's loss of two CD ROMs containing half the nation's bank account details with some incredulity. Not so much that it happened - that was just a matter of time - but of the sheer boldness of the bollox that has been uttered by senior politicians on the matter.
Asked if the incident now called the wisdom of the National ID card scheme into question Alistair "Teflon Tongue" Darling said "The data for the ID cards has biometric protection." Aha, so that's alright then.
What he actually meant to say was that if the lost disks had contained biometric data then a potential fraudster who got hold of them would have acquired the ability to digitally re-create the fingerprints of half the nation. Or is he just too stupid to realise that?
Asked if the incident now called the wisdom of the National ID card scheme into question Alistair "Teflon Tongue" Darling said "The data for the ID cards has biometric protection." Aha, so that's alright then.
What he actually meant to say was that if the lost disks had contained biometric data then a potential fraudster who got hold of them would have acquired the ability to digitally re-create the fingerprints of half the nation. Or is he just too stupid to realise that?
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Biker Blight
Picture this: a small village on a short straight stretch of the A51 in rural North Staffordshire approached by twisty stretches in both directions. It’s a Thursday evening, a local lass is riding her horse through the village and a number of local people are standing on the narrow pavement outside their houses.
Enter Johnny Fuckwitt and Randy Shitforbrains on their testosterone fuelled suberbikes as they round the last corner and open up for the straight stretch through the village. Meanwhile Eddie Stobbart has slowed his artic down to a crawl and starts to pull out to give space to the horse. Shitforbrains and Fuckwitt can’t see the horse and having completely lost the plot scream past between the artic and the pavement. Fortunately Eddie Driver sees them in time and anchors up giving the girl space to control her horse. Meanwhile two unidentified idiots scream off into the distance – presumably to meet up by the Storming Petrel at Market Drayton.
To be fair – most bikers through here do use their brains. They slow down and try to minimise the noise. In practical terms it’s impossible to identify who the fuckwitts are – but the rest of the biker community must have a pretty good idea. And it’s down to their failure to rein them in that people write to their MPs asking for bikers to be more tightly regulated, asking the police to target bikers, asking councils to install more speed cameras, asking for bikes to be subjected to noise and power restrictions and all the other stuff that bikers moan about.
This particular stretch of road has seen sixteen biker "casualty" accidents in three years with the casualties being not just the bikers themselves but local people as well. I have seen the police records for all of these accidents and it has to be said that by and large responsibility lies fairly and squarely in the hands of the rider.
We respect bikers freedom to enjoy their bikes – all we ask is that they respect our right to peace and quiet and safety in our own communities.
Point made….
Enter Johnny Fuckwitt and Randy Shitforbrains on their testosterone fuelled suberbikes as they round the last corner and open up for the straight stretch through the village. Meanwhile Eddie Stobbart has slowed his artic down to a crawl and starts to pull out to give space to the horse. Shitforbrains and Fuckwitt can’t see the horse and having completely lost the plot scream past between the artic and the pavement. Fortunately Eddie Driver sees them in time and anchors up giving the girl space to control her horse. Meanwhile two unidentified idiots scream off into the distance – presumably to meet up by the Storming Petrel at Market Drayton.
To be fair – most bikers through here do use their brains. They slow down and try to minimise the noise. In practical terms it’s impossible to identify who the fuckwitts are – but the rest of the biker community must have a pretty good idea. And it’s down to their failure to rein them in that people write to their MPs asking for bikers to be more tightly regulated, asking the police to target bikers, asking councils to install more speed cameras, asking for bikes to be subjected to noise and power restrictions and all the other stuff that bikers moan about.
This particular stretch of road has seen sixteen biker "casualty" accidents in three years with the casualties being not just the bikers themselves but local people as well. I have seen the police records for all of these accidents and it has to be said that by and large responsibility lies fairly and squarely in the hands of the rider.
We respect bikers freedom to enjoy their bikes – all we ask is that they respect our right to peace and quiet and safety in our own communities.
Point made….
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