under red skies and gale wind warnings
I admit to being a bit lazy with finances. I don't balance a checkbook: I assume the bank will do the math better than me. In fact, when I previously attempted to balance my checkbook, I found this fact to be true. Still, I do the cursory checks of bank statements to make sure I did, in fact, spend $87 at amazon.com and $67.19 at the food co-op (organic chocolate comes at a price).
So, reviewing my credit card statement, I noticed a $589 charge at drnatura.com. Hmm, I thought, I did do a lot of on-line purchasing for christmas gifts, but I don't think Santa thought any of my friends and family were that good this year. So I checked out the site. Their site banner says "Best Colon Cleansing and Body Detox!" I'm not linking it because it is definitely TMI and, frankly, I think it's a serious bunch of shite, haha.
I do a lot of silly things on the internet when it's getting near the witching hour and I've had a drink or two, but I think I'd remember buying $500 worth of colon blow. So I called up the company and, in fact, my number had gotten stolen. So I did the requisite things, called the credit card co. and got them to handle it. And, once again, my full trust is that they'll figure it out.
So that's fine. No other strangeness in the land of finance. Yet still the question nags: what kind of person is so addicted to homeopathic remedies that necessitates stealing credit cards? Apparently, the kind of person who needs $589 worth of enemas. All I can think of is Levon and Barry from The State: "Awww yeah....$240 worth of pudding!"
So, reviewing my credit card statement, I noticed a $589 charge at drnatura.com. Hmm, I thought, I did do a lot of on-line purchasing for christmas gifts, but I don't think Santa thought any of my friends and family were that good this year. So I checked out the site. Their site banner says "Best Colon Cleansing and Body Detox!" I'm not linking it because it is definitely TMI and, frankly, I think it's a serious bunch of shite, haha.
I do a lot of silly things on the internet when it's getting near the witching hour and I've had a drink or two, but I think I'd remember buying $500 worth of colon blow. So I called up the company and, in fact, my number had gotten stolen. So I did the requisite things, called the credit card co. and got them to handle it. And, once again, my full trust is that they'll figure it out.
So that's fine. No other strangeness in the land of finance. Yet still the question nags: what kind of person is so addicted to homeopathic remedies that necessitates stealing credit cards? Apparently, the kind of person who needs $589 worth of enemas. All I can think of is Levon and Barry from The State: "Awww yeah....$240 worth of pudding!"



2 Comments:
I opened another window in the middle of this post so that I could check my account balance.
Wave of panic, washed back out to paranoia sea.
That is bizarre. I suppose if you had to have your credit information stolen, at least they bought something funny with it...
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