Since January, I’ve been saving up all the credit card offers I get in a little pile on my dresser. Now it’s not a little pile anymore. That’s a big pile. Throwing them away doesn’t seem to do anything, nor does faking my own death.
Now these bastards are getting sneaky. Here’s one posing as a letter from my alma mater, with the official logo and everything. All these have important materials enclosed; I should open them immediately. This one actually pleads for its life; “Please do not discard”. I take it they’re familiar with my policy of not opening mail from the state of Delaware. But surely enough, they’re not going to identify the sender, because they know that if they do, that shit’s going straight to the nearest recycling center to be reincarnated as cheapass single-ply toilet paper. (Fast fact: Both Delaware and South Dakota have repealed laws against usury, allowing corporations based there to charge any amount of interest they please. That’s why the vast majority of credit card companies are incorporated in those states.)
To add insult to insult, most of them even come with these little fake credit cards. Lookit all these free jimmy cards assigned to Your Name Here! While it’s said that a solid financial history will open many doors for you, this takes it to an all new level.
If I sound slightly annoyed, it’s because I am. Not even because of the general predatory, soul-sucking nature of this industry, but just because they send so many of them. If I wasn’t interested two weeks ago, chances are I’m not interested today, either. It does not mean “perhaps I overlooked this wonderful offer, you’d better send it again to make sure”. It’s just like AOL, except they don’t come with those nice little tins to put stuff in.
Send it back? Yeah right, unless it has a “Yes!” or a “Bill me later” in it, it’ll get hit by no more than about three wavesicles before it gets deposited directly in the roundfile….unless… Maybe if I dusted them all with some anonymous white powder first, that might get someone’s attention. Probably law enforcement. Or the CDC. Most likely both. So maybe that’s not such a good idea.
Here’s a slightly less bad idea, but I’m tempted to just start doing it: Everytime I get one of these pieces of crap with a postage-paid reply envelope, I’m going to enclose a picture of my genitals and mail it back. (And plot the number of these things I receive per unit time to see how it changes.) I’m pre-approved? Have a look at your low, low rates? Here, you’re pre-approved. Here’s a picture of my Johnson. And please use bigger envelopes next time.
Go put it on the internet or something, and quit killing trees and mailing them to me.
JP: “…hits the ceramic and breaks up, and then this bullet is just a bunch of little pricks going through you.”
TG: (looks over at DG and JPs’ completely straight faces, then …3..2..1… giggling like a schoolgirl)
DG: “Wow, we can’t talk about any kind of penetration, there’s no telling what sets you off.”