And if my circumstances do change, do I have to prove it with circumstantial evidence?
And do fake breasts count as circumstantial evidence?
Would they stand up in court?
harry: Dude, these puppies stand up in a Force 9 gale. Check 'em out!
If you did wake up one morning and discovered you had changed into a woman overnight, what would you do next?
he'd have a wank laura, and then he'd get up and do the dishes
So, no change there then?
I really think Steve Martin's line from L.A. Story applies: the average guy would spend all day feeling himself up.
My guess is that he'd do whatever any man in a woman's body would do. Spend several days playing with his breasts.
I wonder if us girls, turned to men, would be as thrilled by 'our' penises?
SuicideGril
Is that what happens when sheep throw themselves on the barbie?
" So, no change there then?"
Hey! I don't always have a wank first you know.
LA Story is one of the best movies ever made.
But to answer laura's question: I'd endeavour to find out as much secret women's business as fast as possible.
Then write best selling books about "What men really think." And earn enough to have glamourous bi-curious women hanging round my place all day long.
Then, and only the, would I do the washing up.
"I wonder if us girls, turned to men, would be as thrilled by 'our' penises?"
It would be like when mobile phones first came out: You remember how anyone who had one would tell you they were calling you on their mobile.
Well, I reckon you'd go out in the backyard and talk to your friends on the mobile while signing your name in wee.
"Hi! It's Meg! I'm just calling to let you know that I'm writing my name in wee. ....No, I have a penis now. ...I dunno, I haven't tried that yet ... or that. Yeah, sure. Come on over."
I think the main problem Virgin had with me is that I have no assets.
Harry and the Assets does sound like a sixties group. the three backing singers would be bootilicious afro Americans called the Assettes. they would shake them. And at the start of the second act would sing a version of It's Raining Men and show Geri halliwell up for the thin-voiced whitegirl she is.
you know harry... I think you might be right.
Boys come with fun toys!
So do chicks.
It's almost as if chicks were made with fun toys that guys want to play with, and that guys were made with fun toys that chicks want to play with......
Well Harry, they dissed me too. I even forced them to send me a copy of all the information they had collected on me, which came to almost exactly nothing. So the question is, did they try to find information about me and fail, thus deciding that it would be too scary to loan money to someone who didn't owe someone else money already, or did they just never bother to try?
Personally, I think it was the doctorate thing. I mean honestly, how can you take someone seriously with a doctorate in computers unless they got it by making some earthshattering discovery - like Quake, or internet porn - and then bought a university as a tax writeoff?
doods - I'm going to ahve to be serious for a second here. so sit down and don't be afraid..
okay? okay.
join a credit union, they do a debit visa card. so you use your money first and then theirs. and god knows I had bugger all money in the bank when I got mine - it seems about all they want to know is that you get a regular payment (ie, paycheque) into the account.
What was even worse was that three months ago I couldn't even get a freaking mobile phone!
I couldn't get a fucking $30 a month plan!
This, in an age of dipshit 16year olds buying eighteen cars on their palstic.
Get fucked!
The plan is wrong. I paid off a six year $20K car loan and I can't get a $30 a month phone. What the flying fuck! I fucking PROVED I am financially responsible and can support a large debt. I've had a credit card for about 3 years now. What do you have to do?!
Next time, I will lie and say I have a collection of rare coins and medals worth $6000.
I mean really.
I don't have any expensive possesions because I keep drinking them.
And I tend not to buy shit that hangs around. I don't even own a TV, let alone a $8000 mixmaster, that I could presumably front up as sureity should I default on a $30 per month plan that will be automatically deducted from my bank account.
No, you know what?
Fuck them.
This banking system is fucked. How can a system designed solely to funnel money from the poor to the rich and thus leave the poor burdened with inescapeable debt not want me to contribute?!
I am simply _dying_ to sign up to this institutional "help the rich get richer" scheme that is Western Capitalism.
Sure, I'm not technically poor, but I am a tree-hugging lefty who needs a dose of the real world to break my will to resist The System. And what better way to make me 'sell out' than to join the club of those with debt. The credit card companies should be BEGGING me to jump ship.
Fuck, it's like they are the most...
You know what? Fuck economists. The more I learn about economists the more my contempt for them grows. They know fuck all and never, ever, ever deliver. Shit, I have about a good track record of bringing multiple billions of dollars into a company as the guys who are joyously rejecting my application.
Fuck the banks, and fuck insurance.
Banks and insurance should be state supplied. That way I can vote my way to getting the credit card I want. Or, failing that, aim a gunboat at their head offices in Melbourne and feel smug.
All.
I.
Want.
Is.
A.
Better.
Credit.
Card.
How capitalist is that? I WANT TO GET INTO DEBT!! Sing it with me banking brothers!
Now, my current mob have only got crap ones. I am the Demand here. Where is the Supply that will always meet me?
Ob,
Can't you just wave your American Passport and demand an American Express card because your'e a god-damned American, god damn it!
Maybe they can smell the left-leaningness when you applied? Maybe they saw that you have glasses, wear your hair long and smile a lot and figure that you mustn't be one of the soulless grey masses who need credit cards.
Maybe they figured "You know, he's probably gonna spend it on organic vegetables and raw linseeds."
Maybe it's like bums asking for money, but in reverse.
Stereotypically you don't give money to bums because they'll only spend it on drugs and alcohol. Maybe you don't give credit cards to people like us because we'll only use them to donate money to tsunami relief or buy tickets to a show put on during Mardi Gras?!
Who the hell knows!?
I sure as hell don't.
So fuck me.
And fuck them.
And fuck you.
I have about 50billion frequent flyer points now. And you know what? I could trade them all in for half a frying pan. Except I can only get the half-a-frying-pan that they have in Perth, and I can only pick it up during the hours of 4:30am and 4:56am on a Tuesday during a month with a P in it. And I can't cash any points in during April because I'm male and under the age of 87.
Shit, When I got my current card I was twelve years old, had an income of $13000 per annum and spent most of it in the black economy.
Now that I'm twenty eight, earning a decent amount and only very rarely buying drugs I somehow don't meet their Super Secret Lending Criteria.
Well, if I'm that much of a danger to your monolithic banking corporation that buys and sells people like me every milisecond then maybe I should try and rouse my latent super-powers of Capitalistic Destruction?
Maybe I'm like Neo and once I...
Woah, Carrie Anne Moss.
.
.
.
.
.
...aaaaaand we're back. Yeah, once I enter the system I will control it somehow with my extreme external studliness.
Sure, I'll be a burnt blind guy with an impaled (yet still totally babelishous) girlfriend, but ultimate victory will inevitably be mine if you give me the fucking credit card.
I'm gonna write a letter to Richard Branson. I'm going to appeal to the common bonds we share. Hey, Dickie, I've got a beard too. Hey, Branman, I'd like to stay young forever too and hang out with air hostesses. Hey, Rich-meister-B, if I had the money I'd drive an armoured car over the harbour bridge too! Heck, I go shopping in an armoured car becuase I like the style. Well, I would IF I HAD ONE OF YOUR FUCKING CREDIT CARDS!
But noooooooooooo!
No. Instead of the armoured car I have to pick my way through the 8million five and ten cent pieces by brother inexplicably left me to rustle up the $2.40 that I need to buy milk down at the IGA.
But with your card, Sir Richalot, I could go shopping in some expensive store, living for beyond my means and thus perpetuate the cycle of growth that the entire Western Capitalist system depends upon. That way, with one of your sexy cards, I could get Mindy and Tina to stop bitching about how I'm not breeding enough to support my entire generation single-handedly in our retirement.
Sir Richard's a kind man - he sang that song with the Young Ones to raise money for kids or the environment or something.
THAT'S IT! I don't HAVE any dependant children. THEY KNOW that I like the environemnt more than kids and that one of the benefits of me not having kids is that Gaia will not have another pair of feet pressing down on her.
They know this because they saw into my very soul .... or because I didn't provide any information about dependant kids.
What if I lied, not about my mythical rare coins and medals, but about my completely fabricated dependant child.
I'd call him... Lord Mattress-hammer. Rich people always give their kids stupid names, and the scrabbling poor who need credit cards also call their kids stupid names like McKenzie and Brathe and Brashelle and fucken Wynter.
Yeah! I'll fit in seamlessly. The computer will scan my application and have an electronic orgasm when it reaches the details of my dependant child and the glass-eyed zombie woman on the end of the phone at Virgin Robotic World Control Headquarters will tonelessly moan that my application has been gleefully considered and that I should bend over right now for the chutney ferret of Western Capitalism that will stay with me for life, and every so often just jiggle about to remind me that my entire monetary worth now belongs to some slab-sided impersonal tomb for the still living.
And with a credit card I could buy some fucking punctuation every now and then.
It'd be like the Wheel of Fortune where you can buy vowels. The first one I'd ask for is an ampersand so that I could email my friends that I'd been excepted as a fellow debt slugged voyager on the jolly ship Economics-that-people-just-make-up-on-the-fucken-
spot! It's part of the battle group, that has the HMAS Richard Branson as it's flagship, that sails the seven seas in search of alliteration and un-exploited markets.
[Go home, dickhead!]
Oh, ok.
fuck me hazman, you weren't exaggerating... that fucking IS a lot of fucks!
"I was twelve years old, had an income of $13000 per annum"
you didn't tell me you were pimping at that age.
fucking ay.
*burp*
And you can always just stretch the truth. What's the cat's name? You feed it yes?
oh, harry, I feel your pain.
After months of procrastination I rang up to prostrate myself on the altar of optus broadband today. They had sent me three pieces of cardboard in the mail enticing me.
They did that because they are a pack of lying cunts running a secret customer service test on the patience of call centre staff whose customers kept asking why they had been lied to, and whether the company had a grasp - any inkling at all - of how not to piss off people by announcing "broadband now available in your street" when that was a filthy lie.
Thank you, I feel better now.
I refuse to consider Optus after 11 years of their constant hard sell cold canvassing at the door in the evening as you're watching an interesting programme on the telly.
11 years!
BROADBAND!
Talk about Australia being the Second World. I live in one of the most obvious places to put broadband, but is there cable?
No!
Fuck me sideways! What the fuck is Telstra doing if it hasn't filled every street in the inner metropolises with cable!
I'd have to sign up for ADSL (which I might indeed do even though line rental is a fucking rort), but have Unwired wireless at the moment. The shadowing I get from buildings means it works at far less than the maximum speed and is only slightly better than IDSN.
If it makes you feel better, Zoe, you can prostrate yourself on my altar anytime, whitegirl.
I can entice you with cardboard too, you know. There is a special dance that involves ever decreasing sizes of cardboard.
I start at A3.
Then to A3.
Actually, this might be more Duckie's thing....
Should read:
"I start at A3.
Then to A4."
Sorry, my little mushrooms drizzled in olive oil.
I'm also topped by a jaunty sprig of basil
mmmmmm keeping us in the dark and feeding us with shit. I think that pretty much sums it up.
Harry,
You may already have done this, but have you asked for your credit record? It may tell you if there's any dodgy data besmirching your otherwise pristine credit profile.
You can get it (for $23) from this outfit:
http://www.mycreditfile.com.au/
You may also want to check out other card providers (e.g. BankWest, GE Money), as Virgin may not be the right card for you anyway.
Thanks man,
Yes. I did it and it's clean as a newly blown nostril. I grilled the dude twice about it. And I did it on the cheap by asking for them to mail it to me within ten business days.
Yeah, I will go and check other providers.
But Virgin _is_ the card for me: it's British!
[Union Jack unfurls. harry strikes heroic pose. 'Rule Britannia' sounds from the gramaphone and the distinctive sound of teacups being stirred with silver spoons is carried by the breeze. Natives rebel. harry crushes natives mercilessly.]
Hold your horses, Harry of Khartoum: the Virgin card is just a rebadged Westpac Mastercard with bright colouring and a corner sliced off. It's just marketing garnish on your bog-standard consumer credit rip-off. Branson's a master at tarting up crap.
harry, join a credit union. They pretend you have an overdraft and charge you much less interest.
Excellent.
Thank you Lou, Fyodor and Zoe.
I shall join the Credit Union.
then I shall buy an armoured car and drive it repeatedly into Richard Branson's Bentley.
You know, it's probably a good thing I'm not stupidly wish, otherwise I would actually do dumb stuff like that purely because I knew I could pay for it.
Although, when I am stupidly wealthy I am getting a pirate ship and I'm gonna get a pyrotechnics license and drive around Sydney Harbour putting the wind up people. And I would organise 'Boarding Parties'. Geddit? We all dress up as pirates, drive around and then board other vessels and throw the tossiest one overboard. Hooray!
That was me, by the way.
Sounds good to me. Not enough pirates these days.
'specially peg legged ones, right Fyodor?
Natch, though they're not as agile in the rigging.
" Natch, though they're not as agile in the rigging."
# Oh, nice feeder line.
So where would she, err I mean, 'the hypothetical peg legged pirate' be more agile?
not tied to the mast, that's for sure.
Depends on how she's tied, Zoe.
yes, harry, I believe she sends pictures if you ask nice
"yes, harry, I believe she sends pictures if you ask nice"
# Yes. I know.
"goddamit, your haloscan is stoned "
# Yes. In the last two days we''ve had a string of comments registering as being posted but not appearing. One of Ob's kept getting reposted.
I have no idea why Zoe's comment is from a totally different time zone - 1:48am no less!!
I'm thinking Haloscan needs I kick in the bum.
yo ho me hearties yo ho, a pirate life for me...
haz, the Boarding Party idea is Truly Inspired. I have my tricorn at the ready.
jesus! haloscan is even more ridiculous than last night! how did my comment get inserted* all the way up there?
*oooh errr.
goddamit, your haloscan is stoned on the slipstream again and inserting comments randomly in the thread
my allegedly "1:48" is supposed to go between harry at "1:29" and Fyodor at "nobody believes me 1:44"
funny, this is the only conversation I've ever had about pirates where everyone has assumed we're talking about a woman pirate.
I thought everyone instantly understood who the pirate woman in question really is?
Generally speaking female pirates rock and there should be more of them. In the hot caribbean sun they would obvious wear filmy or mostly absent clothing, but would still be decked out in weapons and feathers.
Let the record show that I did not bring up the subjects of:
a) peg-legged pirates; or
b) female pirates.
Carry on.
Commenting by HaloScan
