I'll show you where to swipe your card...
Okay, that's it. I just opened up my last credit card offer ever. They never get any better than the rates I already have, and the only reason I think anyone in there right mind would accept one of these offers is the 0% APR they rope you in with, or they're desperate. Well, I don't need 0% APR, and I'm not desperate, so I'd like all those credit companies to stop sending me metric tons' worth of offers. Offers is probably even being generous. I should probably be saying "masked attempts at thievery." Or just crap on paper. That's all it really is.
And that stupid plastic fake card. Oh my gosh, if I ever get my hands on the guy who thought that was a good idea, I don't even wanit to say what I'd do to him. Not only is it a blatant waste of resources in every way, but when they're all hidden inside the million forms I never check for them. This always ends in me trying to tear the offers and cutting my hand on unrefined plastic edges. I hate them. My hands concur.
I've finally devised a way to get them back, and hopefully get them to lay off and send their disregard for mankind elsewhere. The next time I get one I'm going to take it into the bathroom with me when I feel up to the mood to drop the ol' deuce. No no, I won't actually poop in the envelope. That would just be gross and wrong. And the 39 cents probably wouldn't cover the weight of my feces. No, instead I'm going to put my post-wipe toilet paper in the envelope. Yes, there is a difference. This will make them feel the way I feel every time I open one of there envelopes: a brief feeling of anxiety and excitement followed up by the realization that all it is is a bunch of crap on paper. All I did was change the paper.
And that stupid plastic fake card. Oh my gosh, if I ever get my hands on the guy who thought that was a good idea, I don't even wanit to say what I'd do to him. Not only is it a blatant waste of resources in every way, but when they're all hidden inside the million forms I never check for them. This always ends in me trying to tear the offers and cutting my hand on unrefined plastic edges. I hate them. My hands concur.
I've finally devised a way to get them back, and hopefully get them to lay off and send their disregard for mankind elsewhere. The next time I get one I'm going to take it into the bathroom with me when I feel up to the mood to drop the ol' deuce. No no, I won't actually poop in the envelope. That would just be gross and wrong. And the 39 cents probably wouldn't cover the weight of my feces. No, instead I'm going to put my post-wipe toilet paper in the envelope. Yes, there is a difference. This will make them feel the way I feel every time I open one of there envelopes: a brief feeling of anxiety and excitement followed up by the realization that all it is is a bunch of crap on paper. All I did was change the paper.
posted by Dave LaGory at 11:13
4 Comments:
You could just call 888-5OPT OUT (1-888-567-8688) and have your address removed from those offers. Or you could just go on ranting. I'll leave that up to you.
I hope he goes on ranting. It's the only thing in which he excels all other mortal life on this temporary coil. My dear David, pray continue.
~Fatt
I'm gonna agree with Fatt. This is by far one of the best rants ever. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when those ass holes open up the envelope with the shit paper. Both to see their suprise and then to hang out with the shit paper. I mean I am a fly after all.
Bumford
LOL!!!!! The fact that you just talked about your feces in an envelope made me laugh...really hard! You have my vote for "Best rant of the year"
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