Parcel Force are c**ts

Thin, whiney, shaven legged pricks to be precise.

Let's get this straight. I am not thin but would love to be. Indeed, being thin is something to aspire to; being lardy is unpleasant, unaesthetic and unhealthy. I should know.

I do not shave my legs. When the need arises, as arise it must from time to time, I have this chap who waxes them for me for a modest fee.

Prick? Well, let's consider this one. I enjoy cycling. I didn't moan about your employer but respect the right of any consumer to question the service that is provided to him or her particularly when that service is provided by a near monopoly.

On the other hand, you are clearly articulate and, as you say, state educated. The taxes that I have paid with the sweat of my endeavours helped to educate you to a reasonable if not advanced level. And you took that education and squandered it, chosing, rather than to utilise the great advantage that you had been given but, instead, to waste your abilities skiving when you are supposed to be performing seemingly menial tasks. Surely, if you return society's investment in you, a society that has nurtured you and allowed you to think, we are entitled to ask "who is the prick?"

Now run along, Postman Pat.