Give Me a Little Credit Here
by Scott Hardie on August 4, 2007

Today's junk-mail pitch from Visa: "Most credit card companies know you as a number. Sean, we know you by name."
Six Replies to Give Me a Little Credit Here
Matthew Preston | August 4, 2007
Heheh! I'm curious though, would you have signed up if they called you "Scott"?
Tony Peters | August 4, 2007
yes well my home phone number is listed under my cat's names, Zipper and Sketch Peters. In the last month Zipper's credit has gotten very good....she is eligible for a $500,000 home loan, in addition to receiving Visa, Discover, AMEX and Diners club cards in the mail (real cards not fake ones) we have taken to shutting our computers down in fear that the little furball might try to use her credit cards on "Kitty Porn"
Lori Lancaster | August 4, 2007
[hidden by author request]
Amy Austin | August 5, 2007
Heheheh... yeah, I started using my other family members' names, too (though not as funny as "Sketch" or "Zipper") for filling out questionable fields online ever since the last time you mentioned this brilliant practice.
Jackie Mason | August 5, 2007
[hidden by author request]
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

OK Glass
Last weekend, Kelly and I drove up to St. Petersburg with friends to see Ira Glass present a one-man stage show explaining how he makes This American Life on the radio. I had no prior familiarity with his work, having not heard the radio show unlike the fans that I went with, but I think it's long past time that I started listening to the celebrated series online. Go »
Varicosity
A couple of people have asked about a foot injury that I mentioned. It sounded scary but it's actually pretty minor. A varicose vein on the surface of my left foot ruptured on its own. Go »
Blood Lines
A few weeks ago, I dropped a glass bottle of salad dressing on the kitchen floor, making the house smell like vinaigrette for a day. Today, I stepped on the last errant bit of glass hiding in a crack of tile by the corner. Better my foot than the cat's paw, I guess; I don't lick between my toes. Go »
Neighborhood Botch
I've heard that riding in the front seat of an Uber signals that you want to chat with the driver, and riding in the back seat means that you prefer silence. I always sit in the back. But when I went to catch a ride from my house the other night, there was stuff in the van's back seat, so the front was the only option. Go »
R.I.P. Mom
You were so still in your bed when I could finally sit down beside you, a few hours after the facility notified me that you had died. I hadn't seen you be that peaceful in years, your eyes not scanning the room for clues, your hands not turning over each object in front of you for endlessly repeated examination. I whispered to you the most urgent and most precious things I had to say, the secrets and atonements and wishes foremost on my mind. Go »
Lori Lancaster | August 4, 2007
[hidden by author request]