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

Lori Lancaster | August 4, 2007
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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 »

Eschew Obfuscation

For any FIN players wondering where in the hell the game is: I used my little free time over last weekend writing a mini-post – three whopping paragraphs – and at the end of the weekend I just couldn't bear to publish it so short. (The title of this post was the planned title of that post.) I have now rearranged my social so that weekends are more free, and one thing I plan to do with the time is resume writing FIN, starting this weekend by expanding my three paragraphs into more like three pages. Go »

Windbag

I don't know what Polaroids he has of whom, but somehow Tom Skilling has elevated himself to some kind of all-important weather-broadcasting god. When I grew up in Chicago, I watched him gradually get a bigger and bigger budget for his animated graphics, and gradually get a larger and larger timeframe to deliver his dull reports. By the time I left town, he had a whole 20 minutes of the hour-long midday newscast for the fucking weather, and boy did he find trivia to fill it: Average dew points across Cook County on this day in 1854, theta-e temperature predictions for every Cubs home game next season, you name it. Go »

Other Contents Under Pressure

"So this guy is on a dinner date, and he has terrible gas, but he waits because he doesn't want to be embarrassed. When they get back to her house, he can't wait any longer. He desperately asks where her bathroom is, and she says first door on the left. Go »

Can't Live With Her, Can't Live Without Her

This is the truncated version of a much longer and more ambitious post about my relationships and why I don't blog about them. Let's just leave the reason at "duh." Denise and I tried being friends again after breaking up, but it was based on each of us not saying what we really thought of the other, which is always unwise. Go »

Going Green

This thing might turn out to be as short-lived as my other two attempts at a personal blog, but damn it if I haven't craved having such an outlet for the better part of a year now. It seems like a week doesn't go by that I don't have some little adventure to turn into an anecdote or a frustration to rant about. My idle thoughts are as pointless as anybody else's, I realize, but that's what the Internet is for (besides porn). Go »

The Weekend of Soup

This has been a miserable week. Monday: I woke up dizzy with a high fever and couldn't stay standing up. There were no cold or flu symptoms, but it wouldn't go away, so I worked the day from home. Go »