Pasport Application

[Bitter End]

This was actually taken from a passport application and a member of staff copied it, as it made her laugh all day.

Subject: Passport Application

Dear Minister,

I'm in the process of renewing my passport but I am a total loss to
understand or believe the hoops I am being asked to jump through.

How is it that Bert Smith of T.V. Rentals Basingstoke has my address
and telephone number and knows that I bought a satellite dish from
them back in 1994, and yet, the Government is still asking me where I
was born and on what date?

How come that nice West African immigrant chappy who comes round every
Thursday night with his DVD rentals van can tell me every film or
video I have had out since he started his business up eleven years
ago, yet you still want me to remind you of my last three jobs, two of
which were with contractors working for the government?

How come the T.V. detector van can tell if my T.V. is on, what channel
I am watching and whether I have paid my licence or not, and yet if I
win the government run lottery they have no idea I have won or where I
am and will keep the bloody money to themselves if I fail to claim in
good time.

Do you people do this by hand?

You have my birth date on numerous files you hold on me, including the
one with all the income tax forms I've filed for the past 30-odd
years. It's on my health insurance card, my driver's licence, on the
last four passports I've had, on all those stupid customs declaration
forms I've had to fill out before being allowed off the planes and
boats over the last 30 years, and all those insufferable census forms
that are done every ten years and the electoral registration forms I
have to complete, by law, every time our lords and masters are up for
re-election.

Would somebody please take note, once and for all, I was born in
********** on the **** of March 1957, my mother's name is ******, her
maiden name was *******, my father's name is *********, and I'd be
absolutely astounded if that ever changed between now and the day I
die!

I apologise Minister. I'm obviously not myself this morning. But
between you and me, I have simply had enough! You mail the application
to my house, then you ask me for my address. What is going on? Do you
have a gang of Neanderthals working there? Look at my @#!*% picture. Do
I look like Bin Laden? I don't want to activate the Fifth Reich for
God's sake! I just want to go and park my weary backside on a sunny,
sandy beach for a couple of week's well-earned rest away from all this
crap.

Well, I have to go now, because I have to go to back to Salisbury and
get another copy of my birth certificate because you lost the last
one. AND to the tune of 60 quid! What a racket THAT is!! Would it be
so complicated to have all the services in the same spot to assist in
the issuance of a new passport the same day? But nooooo, that'd be too
@#!*% easy and maybe make sense. You'd rather have us running all over
the place like chickens with our heads cut off, then find some tosser
to confirm that it's really me on the @#!*% picture - you know...
the one where we're not allowed to smile in, in case we look as if we
are enjoying the process!

Hey, you know why we can't smile? 'Cause we're totally jacked off!

I served in the armed forces for more than 25 years including over ten
years at the Ministry of Defence in London. I have had security
clearances which allowed me to sit in the Cabinet Office, five seats
away from the Prime Minister while he was being briefed on the first
Gulf War and I have been doing volunteer work for the British Red
Cross ever since I left the Services. However, I have to get someone
'important' to verify who I am -- you know, someone like my doctor...

who, before he got his medical degree 6 months ago WAS LIVING IN PAKISTAN...

Yours sincerely,

An Irate British Citizen.

[LANDROVER ROGER]

That is brilliant!And so true.

[Govangirl]

Oh I love it!!!!