Slitherine

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Digital River, unless domiciled in an EU country, is NOT legally bound to charge VAT.

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I was a little surprised by the VAT, it wasn't stated very clearly in the buying process.

Guess I'll have to put in a few hours overtime

Steve

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You are incorrect it is being sold through DR they are our reps. Hence we must charge VAT.

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BTW- one more reason to hate the EU. A buch of useless idiots who try to live up to the task to make a bigger mess of laws then the German tax system.

But dont be afraight, our government will do everything to keep the pace up...

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wait until we've finished our two new aircraft carriers

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ORIGINAL: furious

What?!! Aircraft carriers are supposed to carry aircraft? Wait a minute 'Aircraft-carrier' hmm yes it's all starting to make sense now.
Quick someone call the MoD before they finalise plans, thay have to know the truth.

I guess if they turn out to be rubbish we can always sell them to our Canadian cousins, worked with our subs.

(Maybe missed taxes from the US can be reclaimed by continuing to send English actresses to work on E.R)

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ORIGINAL: AlbA

I didn't get all that post Pasternakski. Maybe you're connection timed out. Can you retype please?



Okay, punish me. They all do. Just punish me.

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@MG3

All kidding aside, I'm sure you will be glad you bought this game once you get into it, no matter that it wound up costing you 10 or so Euros more than you would have liked.

I sat here for almost three years waiting for this thing. It was always stated to cost 69.99 American dollars. I thought that I would see a standard production cycle, use my credit card on the Web site, pay that amount plus postage for a CD, wait a few days, and that would be it.

Oh, no. Down toward the end, along came "digital download." It cost the same $69.99, but you got no CD. Moreover, here I sat in the dark, wooded areas where DSL and cable Internet connections have yet to penetrate. Another ten bucks, and I could get a CD shipped, at some indeterminate time in the future, as a "backup." 56k downloads of 466 Mb programs don't have much of a track record for being successful.

I was p1ssed. Several people who showed up at the Origins convention this summer in Columbus, Ohio were able to buy multiple CD copies of the game. Living a couple of thousand miles away from the convention site and not having as much money as God, I had no such opportunity.

So, what did I do? I spent 80 bucks for what I thought was going to be a 70 buck game in order to get the eventual sure thing, then went for the 5 1/2 Kb/s download to try to get it as soon as possible. First time around, I got timed out on my ISP server after I had 27 percent of the game downloaded (this was the first time I knew that my ISP even timed you out on its servers). I hit the download button again. DR and Internet Explorer understood each other, and I was able to resume from where I left off.

Along about 3:30 a.m., I hit the wall again at 55 percent. This time, the whole deal screwed the pooch and I was dead in the water. I watched in horror as some 260 kb file downloaded and then IE announced, "Download complete." Obviously, I had 250 Mb or so of garbage. It headed for the recycle bin. 16 hours invested, 16 hours down the oubliette.

As I was fishing around in my cutlery drawer for a suitable instrument with which to slash my wrists, I saw a recommendation on these forums for a download manager called "GetRight." As I'm not getting any fish taco right now, I decided, "Okay, one more time. I got no other life."

It was 5:30 p.m., Friday afternoon. I fired up GetRight, got back onto the download page, and let 'er rip. Got bounced off my server at almost exactly the same point as I did the first time. Reconnected to the Internet. GetRight and DR resumed the two-humped beast position without difficulty.

I realized that the next roadside bomb would explode at around 55 megs. I calculated that to come at around 3:00 in the morning or so. I settled back, imagining the tortures that I could visit on Gary Grigsby, David Heath, and the rest of the infidel swine at Matrix and 2by3. I lasted a long time, but finally fell asleep.

I awoke, shagged and fagged and fashed, at 5:00 a.m. I blearily wiggled my mouse (no editorial comments, please) to reactivate my screen. Sure enough, I was dead in the water. I thought, "This is it. This is the end. Or at least the end of the beginning. Or maybe the beginning of the end." You can see how crazed I was in my silk panties.

In pain, I reconnected to my ISP. Amazingly enough, GetRight and DR still lusted after each other enough that my download resumed where it left off. So did I.

I tried to get up and occupy myself with household chores. I mopped the kitchen floor. I kicked Eleanor Rigby out from behind the door. The toilets (WCs to you like) and I went to war. All the while, I kept an eye on the dialogue box, calculating where I was. Two thirds. Less than 200 megs to go. Three quarters.

I knew whaat was coming. The end, inglorious and detestible, like Gregor Samsa on the wall. This was in accordance with my usual bad luck in drawing cards at poker and picking numbers in lotteries. I was never destined to finish this download. Even more, if I did, the d@mned thing would never install, much less run.

I hit 84 percent. Bam! I could hardly breathe. Pow! GetRight and DR, like two exhausted lovers, fell apart from each other right in front of my eyes.

I went for a walk outside, trying to clear my head. All I could think was, "I coulda been a contenda. Instead, I wound up a two-bit punk." Realizing how silly that was, I went back in to face the music. Gingerly, I popped up my ISP connection dialogue. Breathlessly, I entered my password. With a silent prayer, I hit "enter."

Like an episode of "The Outer Limits," GetRight yanked control of my TV set away from me like a big dog after a pork chop on Grandma's lap. Suddenly, the little fluttery document was flying across the dialog box again. The 10-kilobyte increment numbers were advancing like the LED display on a gas pump (faster for money than for gallons, of course).

I was frozen in time. I was the steak from the Stones' "Mother's Little Helper." I was transfixed (okay, I wasn't crucified, but it was a cathartic moment nonetheless).

To make a short story long, the counter counted off the counting until the counting was done. 26 hours it took (with a couple off for dozing). I had it.

I couldn't stand it. Feverishly, I got off the Internet (what is that again?) and double-clicked on that treasured icon. It installed, for Chrissake. More miraculously than that, it ran. It ran like a Kennedy for public office.

I've never been the same.

Before or since.

Ten bucks or so? Forget about it. It's the experience, not the dough.

I still ain't got the CD.