Tuesday, November 07, 2006


Yes, I am Mrs complaining number 1st.
I was born a complaining child, I grew up as a complaining teen ager, then a complaining young lady and I will be a complaining old lady.
Complaining is part of my life, I couldn't live without anything to complain.
Somebody would say a ranting lady must be a complete bore.
Nothing more wrong.
Complaing is an art: you can do it right or you'd better stop it.

It begins when you think how lucky you are, to be born in Italy and NOT in Africa (forgive me Africans, nothing personal).
At least you eat regularly and own a house.
But then: how much nicer it would be having been born in America.
You could complain about Bush and EVERYBODY knows who Bush is.
Complaining abaut Prodi is just a waste of time and energy.
Very few know who Prodi is.

You could just decide to complain about daily matters, everybody knows what a rotten car is or what a nuisance having to wake up in the morning, or having to answer the telephone and so on...
It wouldn't be so original though, better looking for something more unusual.
You can always complain of not being able to find something unusual to complain of.

Examples of good, effective complaining.

Your Internet doesn't work and,admitting you can reach one, you call your Internet provider:

"Is there something wrong? I cannot connect..."
This is the USUAL polite complaint.
Giving the guy the chance to find an excuse and promise to fix the problem.
But it could take long.

"What the Hell arre you doing? I cannot connect..."
This usually gets a bad answer and a longer time to fix it...

" Do you know the difference between your Internet line and Ferrovie Italia?"
"At the moment I don't"
This would be more effective, at least in Italy.
Nobody WOULD like to be like them...

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