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Such is my life.

In an attempt to figure out just exactly how much of a crushing debt the wife and I have, I've been playing with online banking and CC information.

Bank of America is one I've been using for a while, and I know it's good 'cause a friend of mine wrote it.

First USA was a little shitty at first, but they've seemed to have gotten a clue in the past few months.

Capital One - they guys that wanna "know whats in yer wallet?" They have a good site, too.

Wells Fargo, however, managed to waste an hour of my time and I was so pisssed I submited the following into a customer service form. You know the ones....

This will probably never get read:
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As someone that builds e-commerce sites for a living, I have to say that this is quite possibly the WORST Banking site I have ever seen.

I just want to get signed up to view informatin on a credit card that I have with you guys and after signing up for three different things that I thought would get me there.... nothing, but you steer me to an application for ANOTHER card?

What?

Terrible site navigation, and you apparently have some monolithic system behind it that isn't even unified.

Wells Fargo Online? My Wells Fargo? Which one do I use? I havent the slightest idea and neither of them seem to want to give me any data in the first place.

I cannot wait to pay this thing off so I can cut it in half and stick with companies that have adapted.

Lean, people. Keep it lean. You already make money of of me every month, stop trying to squeeze more out of me and just give me the info I need.

Please.

highly disappointed,
-slappyjack
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The next morning I get an email telling me to go here and click here and this will do that and all will be good.

Right. Automation allows for these emails to be atomatically generated, complete with three times the text trying to get you to sign up for more services.

In prime fashion, none of the username and passwords I registered with worked.

Blow me, Wells fargo.


Right after the Sharks game last night the wife gets a call from her brother. This isn't surprising, except for the fact that abuot 3 minutes into the conversation I hear her saying, "Yeah, we sell that, but you should wait another month when we get the new ones in. Yeah, they're nicer and the straps are better designed."

I stop walking and just stare.

Then I remember; in our family, giving your little brother the low down on what strap-on to purchase is completely normal.

yeah.

Then the conversation thankfully moves on to the fact that Pikadori is goin' on tour in a month or so and they're gonna be playing in Upstate New York, which all good slappyjack readers know is my old stopmin' ground.

We decide the boys should swing by and see my parents and have dinner with them.

That would be cool, but then I realilzed the meeting would probably be the most interesting thing ever due to the following:

  • My family staunchly believes "Meat and Potatos is a full meal".

  • Pikadori firmly believes "Meat is Murder and milk is stealing".

  • The guitarist has no problem with talking with poo during dinner.

  • Surprisingly enough, being grandparents, my parents also have no trouble talking abuot poo at the dinner table. Their granddaughter is still little. Poo was a big part of her life, as it is for all little kids.

For special meals, my Mom typically makes a little salad, potatos, adn a big family steak. A family steak is a big fat steak that you grill and server up to the whole family. Being that when I was a teenager, my brother and I had appetites roughly similar to a small Allosaur, the family staek is typically abuot two to three pounds, and cooked just enough to kill all the bacteria.

The result is a big platter with a huge hunk of spiced, grilled, juicy with bloody goodness beef.

Having her son's brother-in-law over for dinner will count as a special meal, since they haven't met yet. On top of that, hearing there will be 4 more mouths at the table, and these mouths are attached to young men, the family steak poundage will be on the high end.

Between having a table full of Indie Rock Vegans siting there in front of a big bloody plate of meat and the inevitable inappropriate talk, this would almost make it worth the 6 hour flight in a seat designed for a small girl to be there.

Lord help us all.


Today at work:

  • I fixed some bugs.

  • Our project today was to sit and watch "educatinoal videos" we may sometime carry. Or not.

  • This, of course was a bad idea. I lasted about 10 minutes and decided it was time to work on finishing Homeworld

  • The people in the office across trhe street wanted to konw what the hell we were doing. Wild Planet, as the company across the street is named, makes toys. Cool spy-kid toys.

  • Tony and I went across the street and got some toys. The WildPlanet kids are cool.

  • Now they're just watching this awful video produced by one of our competitors thats all about the bisexual tryst. I mean, one scene has this guy rubbing his schvance with somebodys foot through his underwear.
It makes no sense. I understand this.

You wish you were me.

Slap Out

2 Nov 01

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