Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for September 9th, 2009

Credit Card

Be sure and cancel your credit cards before you die. This is so priceless, and so, so easy to see happening, customer service being what it is today.

A lady died this past January, and Citibank billed her for February and March for their annual service charges on her credit card, and added late fees and interest on the monthly charge. The balance had been $0.00 when she died, but now somewhere around $60.00. A family member placed a call to Citibank.

Here is the exchange :

Family Member: ‘I am calling to tell you she died back in January.’

Citibank: ‘The account was never closed and the late fees and charges still apply.’

Family Member: ‘Maybe, you should turn it over to collections.’

Citibank: ‘Since it is two months past due, it already has been.’

Family Member: So, what will they do when they find out she is dead?’

Citibank: ‘Either report her account to frauds division or report her to the credit bureau, maybe both!’

Family Member: ‘Do you think God will be mad at her?’

Citibank: ‘Excuse me?’

Family Member: ‘Did you just get what I was telling you – the part about her being dead?’

Citibank: ‘Sir, you’ll have to speak to my supervisor.’

Supervisor gets on the phone:

Family Member: ‘I’m calling to tell you, she died back in January with a $0 balance.’

Citibank: ‘The account was never closed and late fees and charges still apply.’

Family Member: ‘You mean you want to collect from her estate?’

Citibank: (Stammer) ‘Are you her lawyer?’

Family Member: ‘No, I’m her great nephew.’ (Lawyer info was given)

Citibank: ‘Could you fax us a certificate of death?’

Family Member: ‘Sure.’ (Fax number was given)

After they get the fax :

Citibank: ‘Our system just isn’t setup for death. I don’t know what more I can do to help.’

Family Member: ‘Well, if you figure it out, great! If not, you could just keep billing her. She won’t care.’

Citibank: ‘Well, the late fees and charges will still apply.’

(What is wrong with these people?!?)

Family Member: ‘Would you like her new billing address?’

Citibank: ‘That might help…’

Family Member: ‘ Odessa Memorial Cemetery , Highway 129, Plot Number 69.’

Citibank: ‘Sir, that’s a cemetery!’

Family Member: ‘And what do you do with dead people on your planet???’

You wondered why Citi is going broke and need the feds to bail them out!!

Read Full Post »

Dear Sir/madam/automated telephone answering service

Having spent the past twenty minutes waiting for someone at Leith police station to pick up a telephone I have decided to abandon the idea and try e-mailing you instead. Perhaps you would be so kind as to pass this meassage on to your colleagues in Leith by means of smoke signal, carrier pigeon or ouji board.

As I’m writing this e-mail there are eleven failed medical experiments (I think you call them youths) in West Cromwell Street which is just off Commercial Street in Leith. Six of them seem happy enough to play a game which involves kicking a football against an iron gate with the force of a meteorite. This causes an earth shattering CLANG! which rings throughout the entire building. This game is now in it’s third week and as I am unsure how the scoring sytem works, I have no idea if it will end any time soon.

The remaining five walking abortions are happily rummaging through several bags of rubbish and items of furniture that someone has so thoughtfully dumped beside the wheelie bins. One of them has found a saw and is setting about a discarded chair like a beaver on speed. I fear that it’s only a matter of time before they turn their limited attention to the bottle of calor gas that is lying on it’s side between the two bins. If they could be relied on to only blow their own arms and legs off then I would happily leave them to it. I would even go so far as to lend them the matches. Unfortuneatly they are far more likely to blow up half the street with them and I’ve just finished decorating the kitchen.

What I suggest is this. after replying to this e-mail with worthless assurances that the matter is being looked into and will be dealt with, why not leave it until the one night of the year (probably bath night) when there are no mutants around then drive up the street in a panda car before doing a three point turn and disappearing again. This will of course serve no other purpose than to remind us what policemen actually look like.

I trust that when I take a clawhammer to the skull of one of these throwbacks you’ll do me the same courtesy of giving me a four month head start before coming to arrest me.

I remain sir, your obedient servant

?????????

Mr ??????,

I have read your e-mail and understand you frustration at the problems caused by youth playing in the area and the problems you have encountered in trying to contact the police.

As the Community Beat Officer for your street I would like to extend an offer of discussing the matter fully with you.

Should you wish to discuss the matter, please provide contact details (address / telephone number) and when may be suitable.

Regards

PC ???

?????????????

Community Beat Officer Dear PC ?????

First of all I would like to thank you for the speedy response to my original e-mail. 16 hours and 38 minutes must be a personal record for Leith Police station and rest assured that I will forward these details to Norris McWhirter for inclusion in his next book.

Secondly I was delighted to hear that our street has it’s own community beat officer. May I be the first to congratulate you on your covert skills. In the five or so years I have lived in West Cromwell Street, I have never seen you. Do you hide up a tree or have you gone deep undercover and infiltrated the gang itself? Are you the one with the acne and the moustache on his forehead or the one with a chin like a wash hand basin? It’s surely only a matter of time before you are headhunted by MI5.

Whilst I realise that there may be far more serious crimes taking place in Leith such as smoking in a public place or being Muslim without due care and attention, is it too much to ask for a policeman to explain (using words of no more than two syllables at a time) to these twats that they might want to play their strange football game elsewhere. The pitch behind the Citadel or the one at DKs are both within spitting distance as is the bottom of the Albert Dock.

Should you wish to discuss these matters further you should feel free to contact me on ??? ????. If after 25 minutes I have still failed to answer, I’ll buy you a large one in the Compass Bar.

Regards

???????

P.S If you think that this is sarcasm, think yourself lucky that you don’t work for the cleansing department.

Read Full Post »

The New Hen

Harry did like he always did every evening. He kissed his wife, crawled into bed and went to sleep. All of a sudden, he woke up and saw an elderly man dressed in a robe standing in front of his bed.

“What are you doing in my bedroom? Who are you?” he asked.

“This is not your bedroom,” the man replied, “I am St. Peter, and you are in heaven.”

“WHAT!?? Are you saying I’m dead? I don’t want to die… I’m too young.” said Harry. “If I’m dead, I want you to send me back immediately.”

“It’s not that easy”, said St. Peter, “you can only return as a dog or a hen. You’ll have to choose on your own…”

Harry thought about it for a while, and figured out that being a dog is too tiring and that a hen probably has a nice and relaxed life. Running around with a rooster can’t be that bad, he thought.

“I want to return as a hen.” Harry replied. And in the next second, he found himself on a chicken farm and nicely feathered. But now “he” felt like his rear end was gonna blow. Then along came the rooster!

“Hey, you must be the new hen on the farm.” he said. “How does it feel being a hen?”

“Well, it’s OK I guess, but I feel like my rear end is blowing up.”

“Oh that!” said the rooster. “That’s only the ovulation going on. Have you never laid an egg before??”

“No, how do I do that?” Harry asked.

“Cluck twice, and then you push all you can” said the rooster.

Harry clucked twice, and pushed with all his might and then ‘Plop’ and a egg was on the ground.

“Wow,” Harry said “that feels much better!” So he clucked again and squeezed. And sure enough there was yet another egg on the ground.

The third time he clucked, he heard his wife shout, “Harry! Wake up. You’re pooping all over the bed!”

Read Full Post »

“Hello, and welcome to the mental health hotline.

If you are obsessive-compulsive, press 1 repeatedly.

If you are co-dependent, please ask someone to press 2 for you.

If you have multiple personalities, press 3,4,5, and 6.

If you are paranoid, we know who you are and what you want. Stay on the line so we can trace your call.

If you are delusional, press 7 and your call will transferred to the mother ship.

If you are schizophrenic, listen carefully and a small voice will tell you which number to press.

If you are manic depressive, it doesn’t matter which number you press, no one will answer.

If you have a nervous disorder, please fidget with the hash key until someone comes on the line.

If you are dyslexic, press 6969696969.

If you have amnesia, press 8 and state your name, address, phone number, date of birth, social security number, and your mother’s maiden name.

If you have post-traumatic-stress disorder, slowly and carefully press 000.

If you have bipolar disorder, please leave a message after the beep, or before the beep, or after the beep. Please wait for the beep.

If you have short-term memory loss, press 9. If you have short term memory loss, press 9. If you have short term memory loss, press 9. If you have short term memory loss, press 9.

If you have low self esteem, please hang up. All our operators are too busy to talk to you.”

Read Full Post »