Check out Grumpy's IBin Laughin Humour Page

To read past columns visit The Grumpy Files

Don't you love computers

Ah, poo, damn and blast. Where's that blasted phone line? Here it is, okay plug this bit into the other bizzo and ... oh, sod it!

Now you have to picture this - and it isn't a pretty one.

There I am crammed under my computer desk in my room at the Heaven's Close Home stretching like a goalkeeper trying to plug my new ADSL modem into the phone socket.

As it always happens there isn't quite enough room for even an emaciated old codger like myself to squeeze in - what between the computer box, stereo speakers and piles of crap neatly thrown there.

Anyway, there I was ... head down bum up and, as I had just hopped out of the shower, dressed only in my tatty old dressing gown that had slipped up around my waist.

Needless to say I heard the door behind me open and before I could give a warning shout the cleaning woman Mrs Psoriasis walked in on the most unedifying spectacle.

"Aaaaaaaaghhhhh!" she screamed and keeled over in a faint.

"Aaaaaghhhhhh," I jumped and whacked my head on the desk above.

I got immediate help for Mrs Psoriasis, the poor dear, although it had to be said she did have a sort of dreamy look on her face as she was wheeled out to see the nurse.

Anyway, the bruising on my noggin did little to ease my broadband set-up hassle which, despite the TV ads saying "it'll only take 20 minutes", had descended into hours of frustration as I installed everything, then uninstalled everything, then installed it again ... you know how it is.

Cursing like a witch with Tourette's Syndrome I had two choices. Give up and call in a technician - thereby admitting failure. Or perservere and, if absolutely desperate, call the helpline of the company that I was hooking up with.

Now the reason I say absolutely desperate is the fact that my two previous calls for technical assistance had resulted in apoplexy. The first I had to hang up after 40 minutes of waiting, the second took my ONE HOUR and 20 MINUTES to be answered.

"Good afternoon," came the obviously overworked and ratty voice down the other end of the line.

"It was morning when I called," said I in a friendly tone.

Click! The scumbag put the phone down on me. Needless to say that frustration slightly overtook me and when I had finished wrecking my room I was a foam-mouthed raving loon. It took four jabs of muscle relaxant to quieten me!

I won't mention the name of the company whose service was so wonderful, however, it goes by the initials Ozemail.

Anyway, I gave up for the day and decided to have another go in the morning. Everything was working (I think) but there was still a slight hiccup in the browser set-up. Dare I risk a call to the ISP? Stuff it, it's 8am on a Sunday, it has to be quiet now.

And, wonder of wonders, it only took two minutes to get through to the technician who had clearly had a good night the evening before and was in a happy mood. I told him my problem. We did the run through of questions and the matter was solved in about 30 seconds flat.

Beauty! Off the phone I got, on to the Net I went and I have to say that this has to be the way for serious Internet users. Fast, convenient and ... sorry Mr Telstra, no dial-up charges.

So Sunday was spent zooming around the Web at a bazillion pages an hour and the cares and woes of set-up were long forgotten. Oh, and I did have to take Mrs Psoriasis a bunch of flowers to make up for my earlier ... err, display.

Funny thing was she seemed to have developed a bad eye twitch as she kept winking at me and smiling.

Grumpy Old Coot has a warped view of life, check him out

If there is something that has really got up your nose, let Grumpy Old Coot know at grumpy@webwombat.com