The DWP and the private companies they use are horrendous. A friend of mine was declared fit for work despite attending her assessment in a wheelchair. When she got a copy of their report it was full of lies about her and they'd claimed stuff like being able to hold her handbag on her lap showed she wasn't as ill as she'd led them to believe. Fortunately, she eventually won her appeal, but fucking hell.Am very thankful I've never been on universal credit.
this happens to me a fair bit. i can't use my paypal 'cos they need a special number from the bank who told me to talk to paypal. i even saw the manager and he told me outright he couldn't give me that number.being stuck in bureaucratic kafka limbo really scares me for some reason.
You know like when, I dunno, your water bill is wrong or something and you phone up and they're like "yeah, you need to phone this other number to get that sorted" and so you phone that one and they're like " no, we need a referral from the other number before we can get that sorted". And then you go back to the first number and they're like "right, you need to call another number to get an engineer round before we can do a referral..." And so on and on, round in circles, forever.
What do you imagine they are capable of?loud, red faced middle aged and middle class men in pubs with loud shirts, slamming pint glasses down onto the bar and shouting about Common Sense with forced, overly matey laughter. You know the type. I'm afraid of them, what they're capable of, what they'll do.