Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Scammin' the scammers, part doo doo warhead

It's time again for another chapter in replying from throwaway accounts to spammers, scammers, and all around douchabouts. This beaut came in fresh off the lot tonight:

Hello Dear,

I’m a banker here in UK with a chance for you to earn some money. Are you willing to try? It is clean, but requires a great deal of trust and commitment.If you have never been arrested before over financial crimes, and you are capable of successfully handling financial transaction in excess of 15,000,000, Pounds. Then you are the right person.

I assure you that you will never regret taking part in this venture.

If you are interested, please email me back so that we can go into partnership


Good Morning Darling,

First you please generate pardons to my english not being my mother of Mouth. You message come perfectly timing because I must pay very Bad men or they will pain my trouser. I have been solely arrest one Time but not for money reasons. I open my underwares on park on a hot day and a women have Wrong understanding. But Great fortunate came to me and I given release later on that Day. Bed men not somehting I Wish in speaking you understand. I have Great intereat in partnership. I do hide some Moneys from bad men for investation so sounds good yes! 

Warming regalds,
Mister Simon Monjack

Alsoare you relating to tv mind doctor from funny show?

Friday, November 13, 2009

Sorry we lost your business. Fuck off and don't come back.

I had started the process with TCF Bank to refinance my mortgage and take out some equity to pay for the remodeling I did over the last year. I had stopped by in person at a local branch, spoke to the lending manager there, and he sold me on what ended up being kind of a whack-ass, risky mortgage product. I was a bit wary due to the terms, but I planned on doing some additional research just in case. Fortunately for me, it occurred to me the next day that one of my coworkers used to hold that same position at TCF branch in a past life. I spoke with him, and he expressed some concern. Either way, he said he would call a friend of his who was currently the branch lending manager for another TCF branch in the northern suburbs and see what she thought. In the meantime, I decided I would ask him to email me the Good Faith Estimate (GFE) since I couldn't remember if he'd done so already (I've had my head up my ass the last couple of weeks). I simply wanted my coworker to take a look at it in case I wasn't conveying all of the details of this loan correctly. In the meantime, my coworker got back to me, and his branch manager friend looked at my file (with my permission) and said in no uncertain terms that taking this loan would be a stupid, financially risky decision. So two people, both of whom have held or currently hold the same title as this guy, are telling me not to do it. Sounds like my decision is made. I emailed him back to tell him I would not be taking this loan.

The following email exchange started when their appraiser called me and I told her that I was still evaluating things and wanted to wait until next week to make an appointment. I was surprised and disappointed at the branch lending manager's unprofessional response. He later apologized to me after my response to his outburst, but the more I think about it, the more irritated I am at how he responded to me. He jumped to fairly ridiculous conclusions based on about about a 90 minute window of time. And even if his conclusions were true (which they were not), regardless of how upset he was over me deciding not to take the loan or "wasting his time," this is not how you talk to a customer, potential customer, or even a lost customer. Thank me for considering you, and save your venting for your coworkers instead of burning a bridge.


To: Jeremy Gibbens
Sent: Fri, November 13, 2009 10:44:59 AM
Subject: RE: Mortgage refinance - income documentation

Jeremy, I just received notification from the appraiser that there has been a delay in scheduling the appraisal appointment. Can you please contact me at XXXXX to let me know what is causing the delay.



Branch Lending Manager

TCF Consumer Lending


From: Jeremy Gibbens
Sent: Fri 11/13/2009 11:03 AM
Subject: Re: Mortgage refinance - income documentation

Hey, XXXXX. Sorry -- was in a meeting when you called. I actually just wanted to ask you before scheduling anything if you had provided me with a GFE. I couldn't remember and couldn't find one (but I often misplace things, so that doesn't mean anything!). Either way, could you email me a copy of the GFE for this please? I remembered last night that one of my friends used to be a lending manager for TCF (XXXXX -- do you know him?) and just wanted him to look things over. Sounds like he would not be able to do that until this weekend, so I wanted to hold off scheduling the appraisal. I'd like things to move quickly, but I'm not in a rush if it means dotting my i's and crossing my t's.


To: Jeremy Gibbens
Sent: Fri, November 13, 2009 11:06:50 AM
Subject: RE: Mortgage refinance - income documentation

The GFE went out in yesterday's mail. There are no surprises on it. Do you have a fax number so I can fax a copy of the same GFE that was mailed to you. I can walk you through it and you are free to ask XXXXX about it as well but it is very self-explanatory. Also, my Regional Manager XXXXX will call you as well to go over it. In a nutshell it says POC by all the fees which means we as a bank are paying them. The only thing that doesn't say POC is the county property taxes. Those are not a fee to you they are the amount required to start your escrow account. Let's get the appraisal scheduled for today or tomorrow to the latest so we can close this by 11/23/2009. Let me know asap.


From: Jeremy Gibbens
Sent: Fri 11/13/2009 11:38 AM
Subject: Re: Mortgage refinance - income documentation

XXXXX, I'll just be straight out on this. Both XXXXX and another friend of mine who works in the banking industry strongly advised me against the adjustable product given my uncertainty about specifically how long I'm going to be in my home. If I knew as a fact that I'd only be there another 2 years or less, I probably would be able to tolerate the risk, but when it could realistically end up being in the 3 to 7 year range, I tend to agree that this probably isn't the best product for me. At this time, I'm just going to say please close out my file.

Sorry, it didn't work out.



To: Jeremy Gibbens
Sent: Fri, November 13, 2009 11:46:38 AM
Subject: RE: Mortgage refinance - income documentation

I'd question their logic on why they would be overly concerned with the Prime for the the next 3-5 years because it is very well advertised everywhere including the internet and most economists think it is a good place to be right now but it is your decision. If XXXXX worked for TCF he should also know that since we don't sell our loans we give the option to switch the loan back into a fixed rate at whatever fixed rates are available at the time if you planned to stay in the property longer which would further diminish any risk involved. Let me know right away if this is for sure your final decision on this to close the file.


From: Jeremy Gibbens
Sent: Fri 11/13/2009 11:55 AM
Subject: Re: Mortgage refinance - income documentation

Hi, XXXXX. Yes, even taking that into consideration, that is my final decision. Thanks.



From: xxxxx
To: Jeremy Gibbens
Sent: Fri, November 13, 2009 12:08:20 PM
Subject: RE: Mortgage refinance - income documentation

Fair enough, I'm just glad to see you were finally being straight with me about this since the GFE really had nothing to do with your reservations about the rate being variable and you would have just been wasting both of our time by continuing to string me along with the GFE request when in all actuality your decision was already made. For future reference, if you don't want to do something in any aspect of life, there is never a problem with just saying no versus ignoring people's calls, etc. If you come into apply for something and you later decide you no longer want to do it, just call the person up and tell them that right away. People respect that.


----- Forwarded Message ----
From: Jeremy Gibbens
Sent: Fri, November 13, 2009 12:17:09 PM
Subject: Re: Mortgage refinance - income documentation

[XXXXX], it's difficult for me to take or make phone calls when I'm at work, particularly when I'm not at my desk, in meetings, etc, so I'm not sure how that's ignoring your calls. As for the GFE not having anything to do with anything, I simply hadn't had a chance to speak with my coworker further about it until after I emailed you. But thank you for the "life lesson" on "stringing people along." With that attitude, I can assure you TCF Bank will never get my business for anything in the future.

Monday, September 14, 2009

More survival tips for the economic downturn

It appears a turnaround in our depressed economy may be on the horizon. But fill one canoe with "may be," shit in the other, and see which one sinks first. Add a sudden health crisis, and you might find yourself at the bottom of a sea of debt with that shit-filled canoe resting squarely on your chest. These tips aren't always easy and aren't always cheap, but when the alternative is financial ruin, you may see fit to tighten your belt just a little more for a few more months.

Wash your hand. That's right, I said your hand, singular. A visit to urgent care or several unpaid days off from work isn't cheap, but neither is soap. Anyone can wash both of your hands, but are you frugal enough to wash only one hand? Keeping one hand clean at a time saves soap and water, thus saving money and the environment. Use your clean hand for such things as eating, drinking, and cupping your mouth to cover you from prying eyes as you whisper to the underage girl next to you on the train that you'll trade her a brand new pair of panties if she'll give you the ones she's wearing (two words: implausible deniability). Use your dirty hand for wiping yourself in the bathroom, touching doorknobs, and shaking hands

Quality running shoes. A really good pair of running shoes will more than likely run you north of a crisp Franklin, but running shoes aren't just for marathoners or weekend joggers. Granted your health would improve if you did take up one of these hobbies, but running shoes can help save thousands upon thousands of dollars when you high tail it the fuck out of dodge upon hearing that chick you've been filling with unprotected primordial tapioca has come down with a case of the babies. It's like a case of the Mondays except it can't be cured with a boiling hot pot of coffee. Or can it?

Prostitutes. No, don't take it up as a profession, hire one. Pay for an hour, fire off a quick one across her chest, and as she's dabbing herself with the now-soaked half sheet of Select-A-Size Bounty you tossed her with disdain, use the remaining 59 minutes to quiz her on hiding liquid assets from the IRS, inexpensive family planning, and achieving an optimal arc and minimal splashback when you hire her for the next session. Keep these sessions to twice-weekly, or you'll eat up all of the savings (and if you want her to eat up the savings, that will cost you double).

Self restraint. You may thank me for recommending prostitutes because this one will be tough. Stop masturbating. Masturbating wastes tissues and toilet paper for load capture and/or cleanup, gallons and gallons of soap and water for hand washing, and inadvertently ruins countless antiques, electronic devices, and down jackets with well-intentioned, but poorly aimed streams of fruitless Yoplait.

So there you have it. Wash, run, fuck, and cloister to survive until the next bull run.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Drinking at the Department of Public Safety

I started using a few months ago as a centralized way to view my finances. Mint can retrieve your balances for bank accounts, mortgages, credit cards, retirement accounts, student loans, PayPal, etc. You can even add assets like your home and car, giving you a bird's eye view of your broadly estimated net worth. Mint also stripes all of your financial transactions into a single timeline and allows you to generate reports on your spending habits. This really became useful last year when I was dead set on curbing my spending habits. It sickened me to see in black and white the amount of money I was spending eating and drinking out each month, for example.

One of Mint's annoying quirks is how it attempts to automatically categorize each transaction. 95% of the time it nails it. Eating at McDonald's gets categorized as "Fast Food," getting an oil change at Valvoline is categorized as "Auto parts and service," etc. However, sometimes it picks up only part of the transaction name and blatantly ignores the rest. I paid with my Visa for dinner at El Toro in Apple Valley a couple of weeks ago, and it picked it up as "Apple" and categorized it as "Electronics and Software." Uh, yeah. Fortunately, however, Mint lets you change categories yourself and gives you the option to apply a permanent filter for transactions with that name (i.e. always categorize transactions named "blah" as "Shopping").

This one really puzzled me though.

Paying for your auto registration and being charged by the Department of Public Safety = Boozing apparently. I have no idea what algorithm Mint uses to auto-categorize, but I assure you that if I spend $99 in one shot on booze, I'm either about to throw a party for a few dozen people at home, or I just won a scratch-off and am buying rounds of drinks at the bar.

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Job posting

Afterglide Media Thingy, LLC is looking for a Research Analyst, Level IV to work out of its Eagan, Minnesota office.

Minimum Requirements:
-BS or BA in a communications or advertising/marketing-based field of study.
-2+ years professional experience.
-Huge, succulent rack (yes, even if you are a male).

Additionally, candidates meeting the following criteria are preferred:
-Shaved landing strip.
-Calloused knees.
-Experience with Microsoft Word and Excel

Please note that this is a contract-to-fire position. You will be terminated upon signing the employment contract.

Monday, February 02, 2009

Nickel a gander

Check it, ass. J Swiggity Q's got the kumba fucking ya on the economic patty meltdown. Before you bite into that undercooked downturn sandwich, take a look between the cushions. Pull a dulled nickel from the unpopped movie night kernels and nut lint and save it for a rainy day. Wait, what's that sound? Tap, tap, tap. Guess that rain came early, Grape Wrath Johnny. Better shammy up that buffalo head and fork it over to uncle Jeremy for safekeeping in his special recession-proof pocket. Atta boy. Don't worry about that jingle jingle. I keep a lot of nickels for a lot of chumps like you. Then I turn those nickels into dollars, dollars into millions, and millions into soreless hookers and cherry-flavored meth. Can a motherfucker get a witness? Not in this economy, Cap'n Budget Crunch.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

How bleu is thy cheese?

How rubbery is your retirement overcoat? How ritardando is your pianissimo? In this economy, they it's important to check your investments every 15 minutes to see exactly how much value they've lost so you can keep your suicide risk factor up to date in your Facebook status. And I realize your net worth is about half of what it was just 4 months ago, but don't put your head in the oven just yet. JQAG's got some investment advice that'll put some ranch on your salad. Invest in failure. Put all of your money into the financial downfall of others. Got a buddy teetering on the edge? Spread viscious rumors about Steve Jobs' untimely, cancerous demise and send their Apple stock into the swirling shitter. Then buy up as many of those shares as you can, spread a new rumor claiming Jobs is immortal, and swoop in to buy up all of your buddy's lakefront property at an inflated price. Once all of that shit's in the can, put as much of your liquid capital as possible into bankrupting yourself. I know it's counterintuitive, but bear with me. Spend money, hide the assets, then claim you're bankrupt. Divorce your spouse, leave them hanging, then gather up all of your stuff and sell it on the bear market. Pure profit. Hey, I may not have graduated from a fancy money school, but I learned from the school of life. And from the streets. Tough streets where a hooker will roll you and shave your balls just to leave you hairless before the Christmas pageant. That's how you start to understand winning. Once you get a taste of it, you'll do anything to lengthen your streak. Kind of like a blind man checking if the toilet paper's been used or not.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Slow economy forces motherfuckers to curb illing

Even as stocks gained in early trading on Monday, numbers released by the Department of Commerce indicated that motherfuckers reduced their illing by a nationwide average of 50% in the month of October when compared to October, 2007. Fronting, however, remained steady.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Target to cut prices, sell poor people

Minneapolis-based Target Corp today announced that third quarter same-store sales had fallen by 3.3 percent and overall profits were down nearly 24 percent. To combat falling profits amidst drastically reduced consumer spending, the retailer will introduce significant price cuts throughout the holiday shopping season and will also sell consumers who are unable to shop in their stores. Target spokesperson Monica Roeger said, "In this tough economy, we have to be nimble and react more quickly to consumer trends. There is a surplus of poor people right now, and we are taking full advantage." Target is buying millions of poor people at or below cost and is passing the savings along to shoppers. "Times are tough, but parents won't have to sacrifice much if they shop at Target," said Roeger. "Your kids can still wake up Christmas morning with a dirty indigent under the tree."

Sunday, November 16, 2008

This is my PIN. My PIN, let me show you it.

Since I am apparently one of the quickly shrinking number of people in my circle of friends and coworkers who usually carry cash on a daily basis, it's not unusual for me to make a weekly stop at an ATM. I've seen it all: the old man who pushed so many buttons to withdraw a single thin Jackson that I swear he thought he was at a pay phone making a collect call to the Czech Republic. The endless stream of soccer moms in minivans who decide after waiting in a line of several cars at the drive-through ATM, that pulling up to the machine is the time to start digging in your purse for your card. Or the cow-wanna-boys in rusty, bumperless pickups perched on wheels from a Massey Ferguson combine who zip in at the same drive-through, get their cash with clockwork precision, then realize now is the perfect time to organize their chewing tobacco.

To me, ATM etiquette is pretty simple -- get your shit wired before you walk or drive up to the machine. Have your card out or at least readily available so people behind you don't have to wait any longer than necessary. If you're making a deposit, go off to the side somewhere, sign your checks, fill out the deposit envelope, and only then may you get in line (unless it's long enough you an do all of that without holding up those behind you). And when you are finished with your transaction, GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY! Do you need to sort your bills before putting them in your purse or wallet? Do you need to write it down on your transaction log? Step aside, or drive forward, and let the next person in line have their turn.

And I tweeted about this the other day, and it's completely unrelated to etiquette, but people, stop calling it an "ATM machine." ATM stands for Automated Teller Machine. You are essentially saying that you're visiting the Automated Teller Machine machine. Unless you are talking about an "Ass To Mouth" machine, in which case I would appreciate it if you would gargle some Listerine and lye afterward.

Now the lady ahead of me in line at the Wells Fargo ATM in the SuperAmerica on 7th and Wall St in St Paul yesterday afternoon may not have thought she was at an Ass To Mouth machine, but that is the only segueway I could come up with. When I walked into the store, she was already parked in front of the machine, staring blankly at the screen without any indication she intended to make her move anytime soon. I was in a hurry, as I was supposed to meet up with Ang and a craigslist seller to buy a barely used bed, and we had to pay in cash. But I figuring this might only hold me up an extra minute or two, and there was no sense in snipping at this 40-ish, disheveled woman, particularly since her halting movements and swaying stance led me to surmise that she may have a disability of some sort.

Finally after another minute or two of staring she hesitantly shoved a card into the reader. It was at this point, that I noticed she was clutching a blue scrap of paper in her left hand. She studied the paper, and it was at this point that I was staring at her PIN. I had given her plenty of polite ATM space, but I quickly turned my head and looked toward a display of candy. She wasn't making the slightest bit of effort to keep the number private, holding it out practically at arms length and shoulder height, but I instinctively didn't want to appear suspiciously interested in her financial transactions. She ever so slowly entered the PIN, hesitating for several moments before pressing each on-screen button. I was still trying not to stare, but after hearing the staggered, seemingly endless stream of beeps as menu item after menu item was selected, curiosity overwhelmed me, and I returned to watching what she was doing. Finally she managed to get to the Withdraw Cash screen, selected an account, and the machine spit out her card and a few twenties. Oh, thank sweet Christ! I was preparing to swoop in once she stepped aside when she pulled out yet another card and struggled to get it into the reader. Huh? Her thumb moved down on her scrap of blue paper, and I now saw at least half a dozen PINs written on it. Sure enough, she consulted the scrap, slowly and aimlessly beep-boop-beeped her way through the menus until she randomly made her way to the Withdraw Cash screen, and grabbed another small stack of twenties. She repeated this process for each and every number on her list, completely oblivious to the growing line of highly aggravated people waiting to use the machine, several of whom had taken to muttering invectives under their breaths. At first, I thought it might be a simple case of someone who couldn't remember her PIN, but on the third card, I started to seriously wonder if any of these cards were hers. My suspicions grew higher on the last card, when she clearly didn't know how much money was available in the account, and persistently rolled her way through smaller and smaller multiples of twenty in her attempts. When the machine refused to give her so much as a single twenty dollar bill, she finally gave up, got her(?) card back, and wandered away to another part of the store.

Now that I finally had my chance more than 10 minutes after I'd walked into the store, I pounced on the machine, did my thing, and was in my car 30 seconds later. As I drove away, I wondered what, if anything I should have done under those suspicious circumstances, but then realized that if this lady was indeed stealing money from accounts that didn't belong to her, that she did so in full view of the video camera mounted inside of the ATM, as well as the store security cameras. If she was up to no good, her ass was as good as caught. Plus having more than one ATM card and not being able to remember the PINs for any of them, doesn't automatically make one a criminal. But it sure pisses off all of the people in line behind you.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Sometimes you sacrifice the wrong things

Since most of my cash dollar monies have been pumped into my house, one sacrifice has been my clothing budget. I have holes in pretty much every pair of underwear and non-dress socks I own, my sneakers have holes in them, and I've been wearing the same jeans every day for months as the other pairs simply became too ragged and fell out of the rotation. As a result, there is a now a big hole in the seam in the crotch of my jeans. I know this happened just today, because I saw that my jeans were fine when I pooped this morning. Thankfully this is not a visibly dire emergency, but it means I'll be making a quick trouser stop after work. And also buying pants. Hey-ohhhhh!

Monday, October 06, 2008

It's ok, people. Just start doing what you did before.

There are reports of $2.99 gas in some areas of the metro. It seems plausible since gas was $3.09 at several stations in Lakeville this morning. So it's officially over. I'll bet you feel pretty fucking stupid for trading in your double-engined Lincoln Navigator now, don't you? I foresee mass abandonment of hybrids by the side of the road and upon clovered hillocks. I, for one, am going to take my gas-sipping 4-cylinder coupe to the old trash burning pit on the family farm, douse it in paint thinner, and light it ablaze. Then I'll take the insurance money and use it to buy a spare tire for a Land Rover. It'll have to be a used tire though.

Friday, August 01, 2008

Your problem is apparently my problem

When possible, practical, and above all, safe, I like to help people. However, we live in unfortunate times where people prey on our sympathies to score a quick buck, a drink, a fix, or whatever their ulterior motive may be. Now, that being said, I will agree that not all people asking for a handout are grifters, drunks, or drug addicts. But the seedier folks have pretty much fucked it up for everyone else. With few exceptions, my policy is to never give a handout to someone on the street. I give money to reputable charitable organizations whose missions involve helping the less fortunate. I don't appreciate being handed a line about "my car broke down, and I need bus fare." But if a guy walked up to me on the street and said, "Hey, dude, I'm trying to get drunk. Help me out with a couple bucks?" That truthful motherfucker might just get a five-spot in his hand if I've got it because his honesty would be refreshing.

This morning as I exited Ang's building to leave for work, before I had completely closed the front door behind me, a morbidly obese woman in her 40s or 50s (hell, she might have been a haggard 30 for all I know) waved me down and hollered at me from across the street, "Excuse me, are you driving?" As she asked the question, she was already crossing the street toward me.

Shit, I had a pretty good idea where this was going, but I answered truthfully, if not curtly, "Yep."

She weezed from her 20 foot walk, "My car broke down, and I'm kind of stuck. Could I get a ride? It's just over on Earl Street."

Um, hell to the fuck no! Like I'm going to let some strange, smelly bitch into my car to stab me and rape me in the ass with a bent meat thermometer. Plus I was in a hurry to get to work. I had a lot of preparations ahead of me for a 12:30 meeting and couldn't afford to take time out to play public transit to just anyone who walked up and asked. Never breaking my stride, I replied, "Sorry, ma'am, but I need to get to work."

Well, she didn't like that response at all and was visibly agitated, but she pressed on. "Well, can I get a couple dollars for the bus, I just--"

"I don't have any cash, sorry." (I actually didn't have cash, not that I would have given her any)

Well, clearly I didn't understand the gravity of her situation (never was there an explanation of why she so desperately needed to get to Earl Street), and she grew more agitated and barked, "Well, Earl Street is just a little bit that way," pointing farther down 6th Street.

I knew full well where Earl Street is; it's about a mile down the road and would only take 2 minutes to get there. But that was completely beside the point, and I was really getting annoyed with this pushy, sweaty land cow. "I know where it is, and that's the exact opposite direction I'm going. I need to leave for work now."

She realized she wasn't going to get anywhere with me, and continued on her way acting incredibly incensed that I wouldn't help her out by letting an unkempt stranger into my car to sweat all over my leather and bust up my shocks or give her money for the same sob story, true or not, that a thousand panhandlers use every day. As I got into my car, she flagged down an older maroon Buick that had just pulled up to the 4-way stop, headed toward Mounds (helpful vagrancy tip -- try flagging down cars that aren't headed in the exact opposite direction you're going). It took about 3 seconds for the dude to drive away, leaving her in the crosswalk with steam pouring out of her ears at the nerve of these people.

Monday, July 28, 2008

This shit sells itself

Laminate kitchen countertop from $150
Shipping and handling: $294
Total: $444

Living 10 minutes from Ikea, I can't think of a better way to spend my money.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Operation Spend Less God Damn Money

It has begun. And yes, gas prices have a small role in this operation, but Ang and I both recently took a hard look at our finances and budgets and realized that in particular, our spending on eating and drinking out is out of control. In the month of May, I alone spent somewhere between $500 and $600 on restaurant meals, delivery, and take out, as well as drinks. Granted, I pay for both Ang and I quite frequently when we go out, but that is fucking insane. And especially since I'm in the middle of putting money into fixing up my kitchen, that shit has got to stop. So, as of a few days ago, we made a pact to be more cautious in our spending. Less driving all over hell and back to every single party and gathering we're invited to (honestly, that would keep us on the road 5 nights a week), less eating and boozing out, and more small gatherings at our homes and the homes of friends. Mixing your own drinks and buying your own beer and snacks are a hell of a lot less expensive. Our goal is to maintain this for at least 2 months, check in how we have progressed, and hopefully keep some, if not all of these habits going forward.

In addition to those measures, I went through my bank and credit card statements and found some other fat to trim. For example, I called Comcast and told them I was canceling my account (I didn't really plan to, but knew they would drop some customer retention on my ass). Sure enough, I hung up with the same cable and internet service I started with for $20 less a month for the next 6 months. Various moves like that have so far added up to somewhere between $45 and $50 a month that will be back in my cash clamp.

The last one Ang isn't too thrilled about. I'm going to stop buying condoms, and she's going to stop buying birth control. I plan on just wacking off into the recycling bin. Ang is probably just going to sit on the washing machine. Whatever. As long as she washes my clothes while she's in there, it's not my concern.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Getting people jobs

Right now two people close to me are in desperate need of a j-o-b in the Twin Cities area. And no, I am not one of those people. [crosses fingers] Do you own a business or otherwise have hiring power and are in need some assistance? Jobs in or *very* close to Minneapolis or St Paul proper are ideal. Give a motherfucker some love. I guarantee both of these people are good shit. In the case of one person, even a temporary gig will do. You know where to reach me.

And yes, I realize I have included absolutely no information about either of their skill sets or professional backgrounds. Stop asking me so many god damn questions.

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Foreclosures hit the Twin Cities blogging community hard

Our nation's faltering economy isn't only impacting modest, hardworking folk, it's cutting a huge swath across the local blogging community, as well. Many bloggers, struggling to make payments on questionable mortgages with skyrocketing adjustable rates, have logged into their blog admin pages to find their administrative account password has been changed and a foreclosure notice taped onto the login screen.

Map of blog foreclosures in northeast Minneapolis in 2007. Source: Star Tribune
In 2007, there were 532 blogs foreclosures in Minneapolis alone. So far in the first half of 2008, there have been over 550. A large percentage of those foreclosures were a result of homeowners struggling to make huge payments on blog loans, better known as blortgages, with skyrocketing adjustable rates. Experts consider many of these individuals to be victims of predatory lending practices by unscrupulous blortgage firms who went to great lengths to hide the true terms of the loans from borrowers.

Cynthia Odegaard, former operator of the locally-focused food blog Morsels Melting in My Mouth in Minneapolis, lost her website to the bank when she could no longer make her loan payments. "I feel like such a fool, " said Odegaard from her modern condominium overlooking Lake Calhoun. "I wanted to make some improvements [to my blog] -- get my own domain name, put in some hardwood backgrounds and granite headers, that sort of stuff. I had all this equity built up, and the way [blog] values were skyrocketing, I thought it would be an investment in my future."

In late 2007, Cynthia Odegaard arrived at her blog to find this foreclosure notice.
Six months after paying nearly $27 in fees for a $150 blog equity loan, Odegaard's full-time job as a senior marketing executive began taking up more of her day, leaving her less time to blog. Her readership dropped by half, and so did her ad revenue. "My Google AdWords panels weren't bringing in enough for my loan payments anymore." Odegaard kept up with the payments for another several months, but when her loan rate increased by 3%, she started missing payments. "I had to make a choice. I could have Starbucks 5 times a week instead of 6, or I could keep my blog." She chose Starbucks.

In February, Morsels melting in My Mouth in Minneapolis was auctioned off by Cynthia Odegaard's bank. The winning bid was submitted by a Little Canada family who later converted it into a Christian-oriented knitting blog called Needle Little Faith. "I surfed by it the other day," sad Odegaard, tears running down her cheeks. "It was like landing on an alien planet. It just didn't seem like anything that was ever mine." Asked if she will ever own her own blog again, she replied, "I don't see that happening anytime in the near future. It's more than financial, it's emotional." She is currently searching for a rental blog.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

The Pussy Pink Book

After soon-to-be-former New York Governor Elliot Spitzer was outed as a whoremonger and adulterer, we learned that he had dropped about $4,000 on one night with "Kristen" and had spent about $80,000 total with her high-falutin' escort service. I fired up my trusty UNIVAC, crunched the numbers, and calculated that to be 20 rolls in the clover. Now media outlets are reporting that he used the service 8 times. That is TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS per whore. Or if you will, 10,000 bones per bone.

Of more prurient interest, the identity of "Kristen" has been revealed as 22 year old scrumptious strumpet Ashley Alexandra Dupré. I won't bother to post the photos of Miss Dupré, as they're plastered across the 'net as copiously as the terminal velocity semen streams nearing countless screens of pervs jerking off to her MySpace profile. But in my humble estimation, she is not worth $10,000 to fuck just once. A thousand dollars, maybe two at best.

Perhaps Governor Spitzer was wet behind the ears when it comes to the economics of being a "hobbyist" (a john). As someone who has a real life hooker as a friend, I could have apprised him of the going rates for rented poon. That is why I have written a comprehensive guide to fair market values of prostitutes called The Afterglide Encyclopædia Vaginæ (gratuitous graphemes added for the appearance of class and authority) .

Excerpt from page 43 of The Afterglide Encyclopædia Vaginæ:

"Though it is considered to be in extremely poor taste, requesting a thorough gynocological exam of a lady of the evening is not against the hooking code. Much as one might have a used automobile inspected by a mechanic prior to purchase, a hobbyist may commit to the transaction strictly contingent upon the results of inspection. The hobbyist may insist upon the services of an inspector with whom he is familiar, however said inspector must be a licensed and reputable OB/GYN. The hobbyist may not just have 'some guy' pry the escort's money hole open with a speculum, at least not without paying her an 'Eiffel Tower' fee."

The Afterglide Encyclopædia Vaginæ is now available on Amazon for a mere $14.95 (cash only, to be placed in an envelope on the dresser prior to the transaction).

Thursday, January 24, 2008

That's right, give me money, cocktugs

Dearest United States Government,

I thank you kindly in advance for the upcoming check for $600 that you will be sending me (if I'm understanding this whole rebate thing correctly, anyway). That should more than make up for the thousands of extra dollars I have spent on gas, food, and assorted goods as prices skyrocketed over the last few years. I don't mean to seem ungrateful, but I could use some advice on how to spend this money, United States Government. Some cool computer equipment? A swiggity new gaming console? A hobo leg? Dignity? So many options!

Anyway, United States Government. Thanks again. Oh, and thanks for that even bigger check you're going to cut me in a few weeks after I file my taxes. I think it's great that I unwittingly gave you a loan bigger than one of my paychecks and will be getting it back without any interest.



P.S. Please give me back all of the money I've paid into Social Security. I've finally realized it's a Ponzi scheme. I'll accept that payment without interest, too.

Monday, April 02, 2007

May I be transferred to the dry anal fisting department?

Fucking shit! I just picked up my car from the dealership. I was expecting a bill of a little over $500, but it was over a fucking grand! I double checked the invoice, and sure as shit, it all added up. I took it in for the 60,000 mile service and to take the winter tires off on Friday morning and was informed that I needed new brake pads, etc. This was not surprising, as I've had the car for exactly 5 years (as of today, in fact -- happy anniversary *ball squeeze*). Obviously I'm not happy about paying $1000, but I'm actually not pissed at the dealership. When the guy called me about the brakes Friday, I was trying to get shit done at work and didn't pay much attention. The number I thought I heard would have been suspiciously low even at the most cut rate auto mechanic for that kind of brake work. I'm sure he was quoting me for the front and rear brakes separately. Regardless, fuck!!! And in continued search for the bright side (very uncharacteristically so), the good news is that I can afford this because I got an unexpectedly large tax refund when I originally thought I'd have to have to pay in. The bad news is that I was hoping to use that money to do some travel this summer. Eh, I might still be able to afford Denver.

Oh, and I took a Pepsi from the complimentary fridge in the waiting area before I left the dealership. I wasn't waiting, but fuckers can give me a Pepsi for $1000. I should have taken some cookies, too, but I wasn't hungry.