Truly Indebted

The Virgin CreditCard, despite it’s sexy cut off corner and range of colours (mine is pink), is evil. Call me a nuff nuff (go on) but everywhere I looked in their small print failed to indicate to me why I was paying a larger monthly fee than I had been with the exact same debt on my Equally Evil Commonwealth Bank Mastercard. Finally I called up, waited for forty minutes on hold, and, as I cursed their repetitive on-hold playlist, was told that the monthly fees are calculated by figuring out 3% of the total amount owed.
“So,” I suggested, “Your lower than low advertised rate of interest, besides only lasting for six months or so, has no real relevence to monthly repayments?”
“Noooo,” said the call centre chick, in a way that made me realise that she’d said it to a thousand losers before me.

The reason I got it was to pay a smaller monthly repayment fee, as I have no chance of paying it off until the house is finished and then I can consolidate all my sordid debts in an orgy of refinancing (I think that’s what you call it). So then I rang up Evil Commonwealth and told them that I wanted to raise my credit limit *gulp*.
“OK,” they said.
And they did.
To say I was startled is an understatement. I’m reading Paul Barry’s biography of Alan Bond, and I think I’m starting to realise it’s true. The more you owe, the more they want to give you!

All this finance drivel was born from the fact that VirginBlue (the same evil bastards- but this time airborne) are having a sale on flights – so I booked one for a few months time when I know I have to be in Melbourne for a conference.
How else am I supposed to make it down to Melbourne to keep my boss happy, thus keeping my job, thus enabling the house to eat the rest of my money that we don’t drink in an effort to combat the heat? I bloody hope I can claim some of it back as work-related travel expenses. I’ve given up on Powerball (not hard, when you spend the ticket money on milk and bread) and have taken to looking for washed up treasure on the beach. I also harbour a definite hope of stumbling over a nugget…somewhere…




A Bit Wet


  1. Yay! When are you coming? Will I still be here? (I choof off to Sydney at the end of February)

  2. Anonymous

    nuff nuff

  3. Oh I’ll be in town before then! Luxuriating in my fast net connection at work and remembering what it’s like to get up and battle rush hour…
    Where in Sydney have you decided to grace with your presence!?

  4. Hurrah!!

    Re: Sydders. Inner west, prolly, as that area houses my close pals The Professor and Stella. I like it round there.

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