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Being Alone, Crying, and Dude: thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
Being Alone, Crying, and Dude: thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejorie:

gucciballs:

thejorie:

peble:

thejorie:

My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? 

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie:...

Alive, America, and Another One: bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 11, 2018 bucky meeting peter parker, a skinny kid from new york who thinks it's his job to save the whole world: fuck. another one. t561 1.8K 4 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 11, 2018 steve in tfa: i apologise for going against orders sir, won't happen again steve in infinity war: im going to do whatever the hell i want and if general ross has a problem, he can go right ahead and suck my serum-enhanced ding dong t 465 1.5K 6 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 11, 2018 steve: im gonna go after bucky sam: that's a terrible idea. he tried to kill us all steve: you don't have to come sam: we leave at 2 1 114 1 653 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 11, 2018 my favourite movie is steve:bucky bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 10, 2018 captain america: the winter soldier is basically a movie called steve rogers: bucky barnes 1 t 67 430 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 12, 2018 the death triplets: steve: you get hurt? hurt them back. you get killed? walk it off. thor: "it'll kill you" "only if i die" bucky: "they're not planning on taking you alive" "that's smart. good strategy" ti 370 1.2K bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 13, 2018 steve: well, you know what they say. what doesn't kill you- bucky: should've tried harder steve: bucky no bucky: and should fear for its life because i know you will avenge me steve: sam: well hes not wrong t 261 1.1K 1 > bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 13, 2018 bucky, skateboarding into his therapists office with sunglasses on and a juice box in his hand: theresa, you would not fucking believe what suppressed memory resurfaced last night t805 2.6K
Alive, America, and Another One: bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 11, 2018
 bucky meeting peter parker, a skinny kid from new york who thinks it's his job
 to save the whole world: fuck. another one.
 t561
 1.8K
 4

 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 11, 2018
 steve in tfa: i apologise for going against orders sir, won't happen again
 steve in infinity war: im going to do whatever the hell i want and if general
 ross has a problem, he can go right ahead and suck my serum-enhanced ding
 dong
 t 465
 1.5K
 6
 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 11, 2018
 steve: im gonna go after bucky
 sam: that's a terrible idea. he tried to kill us all
 steve: you don't have to come
 sam: we leave at 2
 1 114
 1
 653
 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 11, 2018
 my favourite movie is steve:bucky
 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 10, 2018
 captain america: the winter soldier is basically a movie called steve rogers:
 bucky barnes
 1
 t 67
 430

 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 12, 2018
 the death triplets:
 steve: you get hurt? hurt them back. you get killed? walk it off.
 thor: "it'll kill you" "only if i die"
 bucky: "they're not planning on taking you alive" "that's smart. good strategy"
 ti 370
 1.2K

 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 13, 2018
 steve: well, you know what they say. what doesn't kill you-
 bucky: should've tried harder
 steve: bucky no
 bucky: and should fear for its life because i know you will avenge me
 steve:
 sam: well hes not wrong
 t 261
 1.1K
 1
 >

 bicky @incorrectbucko Sep 13, 2018
 bucky, skateboarding into his therapists office with sunglasses on and a juice
 box in his hand: theresa, you would not fucking believe what suppressed
 memory resurfaced last night
 t805
 2.6K
Be Like, Club, and Dad: factfiction emiliusthegreat Follow partybarackisinthehousetonight releases pack of dads into home depot* go....be free hotcommunist invasive species encroach on lesbian territory dreaming-shark This is a common misconception because they're such similar environments, but you should be aware that dads are native to Home Depot, while lesbians are actually native to Lowe's. At this point, however, both dads and lesbians have made themselves at home in both Home Depot and Lowe's to the point that trying to separate them back into their original ranges would probably do more harm than good to the delicate ecosystem of large chain hardware stores. ailithnight A properly raised and socialized Dad will be perfectly comfort- able cohabiting with Lesbians. Its not really "encroaching on another's territory". You wouldn't say that about foxes in a forest that also homes bobcats, would you? No. It's just two different species that have both evolved to live in similar/the same environment. As long as they recognize each other as equals, Dads and Lesbians are more than capable of cohabitation. Now, if you were to release a pack of Lumberjacks into a or Home Depot, that's where chaos will reign. Being adap far harsher and more demanding environment, the Lumberjacks would simply push Dads and Lesbians both out and also consume far more than a sustainable amount of resources. It would be like releasing bears at a country club. chequerootlurks As a former timber-harveste... I feel this is potentially accurate in theory. But highly improbable in actuality. Lumberjacks, like most megafauna species generally require more space than the average hardware store, even a big box store could provide. The misconception is that Lumberjacks are a social species because of how they often work and live together. This is a matter of necessity, not preference, and a survival technique for thriving under the Log Boss. A "pack" of Lumberjacks, if not under the environmental pressure of a Log Boss will naturally disperse until they each have a wide territory Lumberjacks rarely fight for territory. One on one, a Lumberjack could drive out a Dad or Lesbian, however the latter tend to travel in social packs. Lumberjacks will passively retreat on the presence of large numbers of people. Kind of like Sasquatch Getting a "pack" of Lumberjacks assembled would be hard enough unless they were forced into a Hardware Store by a LogBoss. In that case, they would already be in a heightened and potentially agitated state far above their natural behavior. This artificial scenario can be likened to a circus animal running amok If it had been in the wild, the incident would not have occurred. Free-roaming Lumberjacks are the cryptids of the Hardware system. They are surprisingly quiet and unobtrusive Please stop labeling Lumberjacks as dangerous roving social predators. They are intermediate level omnivores and remarkably peaceful unless threatened. katy-l-wood As a hardware store worker I can say that this is all 100% accurate. The delicate ecosystem of large chain hardware stores
Be Like, Club, and Dad: factfiction
 emiliusthegreat Follow
 partybarackisinthehousetonight
 releases pack of dads into home depot* go....be free
 hotcommunist
 invasive species encroach on lesbian territory
 dreaming-shark
 This is a common misconception because they're such similar
 environments, but you should be aware that dads are native to
 Home Depot, while lesbians are actually native to Lowe's. At this
 point, however, both dads and lesbians have made themselves at
 home in both Home Depot and Lowe's to the point that trying to
 separate them back into their original ranges would probably do
 more harm than good to the delicate ecosystem of large chain
 hardware stores.
 ailithnight
 A properly raised and socialized Dad will be perfectly comfort-
 able cohabiting with Lesbians. Its not really "encroaching on
 another's territory". You wouldn't say that about foxes in a forest
 that also homes bobcats, would you? No. It's just two different
 species that have both evolved to live in similar/the same
 environment. As long as they recognize each other as equals,
 Dads and Lesbians are more than capable of cohabitation.
 Now, if you were to release a pack of Lumberjacks into a
 or Home Depot, that's where chaos will reign. Being adap
 far harsher and more demanding environment, the Lumberjacks
 would simply push Dads and Lesbians both out and also
 consume far more than a sustainable amount of resources. It
 would be like releasing bears at a country club.
 chequerootlurks
 As a former timber-harveste... I feel this is potentially accurate in
 theory. But highly improbable in actuality.
 Lumberjacks, like most megafauna species generally require
 more space than the average hardware store, even a big box
 store could provide. The misconception is that Lumberjacks are a
 social species because of how they often work and live together.
 This is a matter of necessity, not preference, and a survival
 technique for thriving under the Log Boss.
 A "pack" of Lumberjacks, if not under the environmental
 pressure of a Log Boss will naturally disperse until they each have
 a wide territory
 Lumberjacks rarely fight for territory.
 One on one, a Lumberjack could drive out a Dad or Lesbian,
 however the latter tend to travel in social packs.
 Lumberjacks will passively retreat on the presence of large
 numbers of people. Kind of like Sasquatch
 Getting a "pack" of Lumberjacks assembled would be hard
 enough unless they were forced into a Hardware Store by a
 LogBoss. In that case, they would already be in a heightened and
 potentially agitated state far above their natural behavior. This
 artificial scenario can be likened to a circus animal running amok
 If it had been in the wild, the incident would not have occurred.
 Free-roaming Lumberjacks are the cryptids of the Hardware
 system. They are surprisingly quiet and unobtrusive
 Please stop labeling Lumberjacks as dangerous roving social
 predators. They are intermediate level omnivores and remarkably
 peaceful unless threatened.
 katy-l-wood
 As a hardware store worker I can say that this is all 100%
 accurate.
The delicate ecosystem of large chain hardware stores

The delicate ecosystem of large chain hardware stores

Community, Family, and Finance: Cancel Your Credit Card Before You Die A lady died this past January, and the bank 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 the Bank Here is the exchange Family Member: am calling to tell you she died back in January Bank The account was never closed and the late fees and charges stil apply. Family Member : 'Maybe, you should turn it over to collections. Bank: '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?' Bank: '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?' Bank: 'Excuse me?' Family Member: 'Did you just get what I was telling you - the part about her being dead?' Bank: '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. Bank: 'The account was never closed and late fees and charges still apply.' Family Member from her estate?' Bank (Stammer) 'Are you her lawyer?' Family Member 'No, I'm her great nephew. (Lawyer info was given) Bank: 'Could you fax us a certificate of death?' Family Member 'Sure. (Fax number was given) You mean you want to collect After they get the fax Bank: '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. Bank: 'Well, the late fees and charges do still apply. (What is wrong with these people?1?) Family Member: 'Would you like her new billing address?' Bank: That might help... Family Member: 'Odessa Memorial Cemetery Highway 129, Plot Number 69.' Bank: 'Sir, that's a cemetery ! Family Member: 'And what do you do with dead people on your planet? thefingerfuckingfemalefury: ohgoditsneph: niniblack: eudoxiav: lawful-evil-novelist: theludicrousrival: billiam-spockspeare: Capitalism will put the bill on your grave and harass your grieving family until they pay One of my cousins passed away unexpectedly at the age of 35, and had been paying back a loan from the bank. About two weeks after his death, my great aunt received a statement from the bank (his mail was being delivered to her house) about a late payment. She called the bank and explained the situation and the only thing a manager could say was “Well, that’s unfortunate. We can arrange so payments will resume in 30 days, that should be enough time to have already paid for the other arrangements.” On top of the unexpected $10,000 funeral, cremation and burial bill, my aunt had to finish paying my uncle’s $5,000 loan. She’s a disabled retiree, on a fixed income, and could barely afford to pay for her insulin for diabetes. She nearly lost her home of more than 40 years. Fuck the system. She didn’t need to pay. When people die, their debts are not their family’s responsibility. In fact, it is outright illegal to try and collect those debts from a person who didn’t cosign the loan and isn’t executing the will. Debts and Deceased Relatives Here’s a link to the detail on that one. Banks count on people not knowing that last comment so that they can still get money They really do. My great-grandmother had her identity stolen before she died at the age of 93, and thousands of charges were racked up on credit cards in her name. After she passed away, they called my mother to try and collect. My mom laughed at them, and told them: “She’s dead, good luck collecting.” The credit card asked my mother, “Don’t you want to clear your grandmother’s debts? Don’t you want to clear her good name?” My mom laughed at them again. “No,” she said. “Because a 90 year old wasn’t watching porn with those credit cards, and her name is fine. Don’t give credit cards to old women likely to pass away soon. This is on you.” Which is how I learned as a young child to always question collection agents, and to never pay off debts that aren’t your own. They often can’t even collect that money from the estate, if there is one, depending on how you write your will and what kind of account the money was kept in. DO NOT EVER PAY OFF DEBTS THAT AREN’T YOUR OWN. If a loved one of yours dies and bill collectors (credit cards, loans, etc etc) start calling you off the hook and request that you pay off their debts, tell them in no uncertain terms to go fuck themselves. The reason being is that the moment you give them a single penny, that debt is now on YOU because you’ve now agreed to pay it off. Do not agree to pay off their debt. Do not pass go, do not give them $200. Boosting this to let people know that if any of these greedy little dog-fuckers start harassing them to pay off a relatives debt the correct thing to do is just tell them to piss off and not pay them a single thing And that there is NOTHING they can do if you do this Unless you cosigned the loan, are a joint account holder, or a spouse of the deceased in a community property state, you would likely not be on the hook for any debts from the deceased. The executor of their estate will be in charge of addressing the loans with the help of the estate and hopefully life insurance money, but if there isn’t enough in that to pay off the debts then creditors are just shit out of luck and they legally are not allowed to mislead you into thinking you have to pay them back when you don’t (which is not to say that they don’t try). You have a legal right to order them not to contact you via letter.
Community, Family, and Finance: Cancel Your Credit Card Before
 You Die
 A lady died this past January, and the bank 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
 the Bank

 Here is the exchange
 Family Member: am calling to tell you she died
 back in January
 Bank The account was never closed and the late
 fees and charges stil apply.
 Family Member : 'Maybe, you should turn it over to
 collections.
 Bank: '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?'
 Bank: '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?'
 Bank: 'Excuse me?'

 Family Member: 'Did you just get what I was
 telling you -
 the part about her being dead?'
 Bank: '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.
 Bank: 'The account was never closed and late fees
 and charges still apply.'
 Family Member
 from her estate?'
 Bank (Stammer) 'Are you her lawyer?'
 Family Member 'No, I'm her great nephew.
 (Lawyer info was given)
 Bank: 'Could you fax us a certificate of death?'
 Family Member 'Sure. (Fax number was given)
 You mean you want to collect

 After they get the fax
 Bank: '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.
 Bank: 'Well, the late fees and charges do still
 apply.
 (What is wrong with these people?1?)
 Family Member: 'Would you like her new billing
 address?'
 Bank: That might help...
 Family Member: 'Odessa Memorial Cemetery
 Highway 129, Plot Number 69.'
 Bank: 'Sir, that's a cemetery !
 Family Member: 'And what do you do with dead
 people on your planet?
thefingerfuckingfemalefury:
ohgoditsneph:

niniblack:

eudoxiav:


lawful-evil-novelist:

theludicrousrival:


billiam-spockspeare:
Capitalism will put the bill on your grave and harass your grieving family until they pay

One of my cousins passed away unexpectedly at the age of 35, and had been paying back a loan from the bank. About two weeks after his death, my great aunt received a statement from the bank (his mail was being delivered to her house) about a late payment. She called the bank and explained the situation and the only thing a manager could say was “Well, that’s unfortunate. We can arrange so payments will resume in 30 days, that should be enough time to have already paid for the other arrangements.” 
On top of the unexpected $10,000 funeral, cremation and burial bill, my aunt had to finish paying my uncle’s $5,000 loan. She’s a disabled retiree, on a fixed income, and could barely afford to pay for her insulin for diabetes. She nearly lost her home of more than 40 years. Fuck the system. 


She didn’t need to pay.  When people die, their debts are not their family’s responsibility.
In fact, it is outright illegal to try and collect those debts from a person who didn’t cosign the loan and isn’t executing the will.
Debts and Deceased Relatives
Here’s a link to the detail on that one.


Banks count on people not knowing that last comment so that they can still get money


They really do. 
My great-grandmother had her identity stolen before she died at the age of 93, and thousands of charges were racked up on credit cards in her name. After she passed away, they called my mother to try and collect. My mom laughed at them, and told them: “She’s dead, good luck collecting.” The credit card asked my mother, “Don’t you want to clear your grandmother’s debts? Don’t you want to clear her good name?” My mom laughed at them again. “No,” she said. “Because a 90 year old wasn’t watching porn with those credit cards, and her name is fine. Don’t give credit cards to old women likely to pass away soon. This is on you.”
Which is how I learned as a young child to always question collection agents, and to never pay off debts that aren’t your own. They often can’t even collect that money from the estate, if there is one, depending on how you write your will and what kind of account the money was kept in. 

DO NOT EVER PAY OFF DEBTS THAT AREN’T YOUR OWN.

If a loved one of yours dies and bill collectors (credit cards, loans, etc etc) start calling you off the hook and request that you pay off their debts, tell them in no uncertain terms to go fuck themselves.
The reason being is that the moment you give them a single penny, that debt is now on YOU because you’ve now agreed to pay it off.

Do not agree to pay off their debt. Do not pass go, do not give them $200.

Boosting this to let people know that if any of these greedy little dog-fuckers start harassing them to pay off a relatives debt the correct thing to do is just tell them to piss off and not pay them a single thing 
And that there is NOTHING they can do if you do this 


Unless you cosigned the loan, are a joint account holder, or a spouse of the deceased in a community property state, you would likely not be on the hook for any debts from the deceased. The executor of their estate will be in charge of addressing the loans with the help of the estate and hopefully life insurance money, but if there isn’t enough in that to pay off the debts then creditors are just shit out of luck and they legally are not allowed to mislead you into thinking you have to pay them back when you don’t (which is not to say that they don’t try). You have a legal right to order them not to contact you via letter.

thefingerfuckingfemalefury: ohgoditsneph: niniblack: eudoxiav: lawful-evil-novelist: theludicrousrival: billiam-spockspeare: Capitali...

Apparently, Bad, and Comfortable: theladyzephyr: Folks let me talk about Crowley and sunglasses, because I have a lot of emotions about when he wears them and when he doesn’t, and Hiding versus Being Seen. We’re introduced to the concept of Crowley wearing glasses even before we’re introduced to Crowley, by Hastur: “If you ask me he’s been up here too long. Gone native. Enjoying himself too much. Wearing sunglasses even when he doesn’t need them.” Honestly Crowley’s whole introduction is a fantastic; we learn so much about his character in a tiny amount of time. The fact that he’s late, the Queen playing as the Bentley approaches, the “Hi, guys” in response to Hastur and Ligur’s “Hail Satan”. I like this intro much better than the one originally scripted with the rats at the phone company, but I digress. Crowley wears sunglasses when he doesn’t need them. Specifically, he still wears them around the demons, and when he’s in hell. You know where Crowley doesn’t wear glasses? At home. We never once see him wearing glasses in his flat, except for when he knows Hastur and Ligur are coming. That’s an emotional kick to the gut for me. Here’s one of the only places Crowley’s comfortable enough to be sans glasses, and when he knows it’s going to be invaded he prepares not just physically with the holy water, but by putting up that emotional barrier in a place where he wasn’t supposed to need it. An argument could be made that Crowley actually never needs glasses. We’re shown that it’s well within the angels’ and demons’ powers to pass unnoticed by humans. Crowley and Aziraphale waltz out of the manor in the middle of a police raid, and going unnoticed by the police takes so little effort that they can keep up a conversation while they stroll through. Even an unimaginative demon like Hastur apparently doesn’t have trouble with the humans losing it over his demonic eyes. The humans in the scene at Megiddo are acting like “this guy is a little weird” and not “holy shit his entire eyeballs are black jelly” That means that Crowley’s glasses are a choice, just like Aziraphale’s softness. Sure, he could arrange matters so that nobody ever noticed his eyes, but he doesn’t want to. Crowley wants acceptance, and he wants to belong, and he’s never, ever had that. He didn’t fit in before the Fall in Heaven, he doesn’t fit in with the demons in Hell. With the glasses, and with the Bentley and his plants and with the barely-bad-enough-to-be-evil nuisance temptations, he’s choosing Earth. This is where he wants to fit in, perhaps not with the humans, but amongst them. Even after Crowley is at his absolute lowest, when he thinks Aziraphale’s dead and he’s on his way to drink until the world ends, he takes the time to put a new pair on when the old ones are damaged. He needs that emotional crutch right now, even with everything about to turn into a pile of puddling goo he’s not ready for the world to see his eyes. Which is why I swore out loud when Hastur forcibly takes them off. It’s about the worst thing that Hastur could have done. Rather than leading with a physical threat, his first act is to strip away Crowley’s emotional defences. It’s a great writing choice because god it made me hate Hastur, even more than all the physical violence we see him do. It’s also the moment that Crowley really truly gets his shit together, and focuses all of his considerable imagination on getting to Tadfield and Aziraphale to help save the world. He’s wielding the terrifyingly unimaginable power of someone who’s hit rock bottom and realised it literally could not get any worse than this. He doesn’t put another pair of glasses on after discorporating Hastur, and he spends the majority of the airbase sequence without them. He puts them back on again, I think, at the moment that he really lets himself hope. When he thinks ‘shit, there may be a real chance that we get through this to a future that I don’t want to lose’. The vulnerability is back, and he needs Adam to trust him. In Crowley’s mind being accepted by a human means he needs to have his eyes hidden. Someone give the demon a hug, please. Interestingly, there’s only one time in the whole series that we see Crowley willingly choose to take his glasses off around another person. Only one person he’ll take down that barrier for, and even then he’s drunk before he does it. Dear God/Satan/Someone that makes my heart ache. Crowley’s chosen Earth, but he’s also chosen Aziraphale. He’s been looking for somewhere to belong his entire existence, and it’s with the angel that he finally feels it. When the dust settles and the world is saved and they finally have space to be themselves unguarded, I like to imagine Crowley takes off the glasses when it’s just the two of them; the idea of being known doesn’t scare him quite so much anymore.  
Apparently, Bad, and Comfortable: theladyzephyr:

Folks let me talk about Crowley and sunglasses, because I have a lot of emotions about when he wears them and when he doesn’t, and Hiding versus Being Seen.
We’re introduced to the concept of Crowley wearing glasses even before we’re introduced to Crowley, by Hastur: “If you ask me he’s been up here too long. Gone native. Enjoying himself too much. Wearing sunglasses even when he doesn’t need them.”
Honestly Crowley’s whole introduction is a fantastic; we learn so much about his character in a tiny amount of time. The fact that he’s late, the Queen playing as the Bentley approaches, the “Hi, guys” in response to Hastur and Ligur’s “Hail Satan”. I like this intro much better than the one originally scripted with the rats at the phone company, but I digress.
Crowley wears sunglasses when he doesn’t need them. Specifically, he still wears them around the demons, and when he’s in hell.
You know where Crowley doesn’t wear glasses? At home.
We never once see him wearing glasses in his flat, except for when he knows Hastur and Ligur are coming. That’s an emotional kick to the gut for me. Here’s one of the only places Crowley’s comfortable enough to be sans glasses, and when he knows it’s going to be invaded he prepares not just physically with the holy water, but by putting up that emotional barrier in a place where he wasn’t supposed to need it.
An argument could be made that Crowley actually never needs glasses. We’re shown that it’s well within the angels’ and demons’ powers to pass unnoticed by humans. Crowley and Aziraphale waltz out of the manor in the middle of a police raid, and going unnoticed by the police takes so little effort that they can keep up a conversation while they stroll through. Even an unimaginative demon like Hastur apparently doesn’t have trouble with the humans losing it over his demonic eyes. The humans in the scene at Megiddo are acting like “this guy is a little weird” and not “holy shit his entire eyeballs are black jelly”
That means that Crowley’s glasses are a choice, just like Aziraphale’s softness. Sure, he could arrange matters so that nobody ever noticed his eyes, but he doesn’t want to. Crowley wants acceptance, and he wants to belong, and he’s never, ever had that. He didn’t fit in before the Fall in Heaven, he doesn’t fit in with the demons in Hell. With the glasses, and with the Bentley and his plants and with the barely-bad-enough-to-be-evil nuisance temptations, he’s choosing Earth. This is where he wants to fit in, perhaps not with the humans, but amongst them.
Even after Crowley is at his absolute lowest, when he thinks Aziraphale’s dead and he’s on his way to drink until the world ends, he takes the time to put a new pair on when the old ones are damaged. He needs that emotional crutch right now, even with everything about to turn into a pile of puddling goo he’s not ready for the world to see his eyes.
Which is why I swore out loud when Hastur forcibly takes them off.
It’s about the worst thing that Hastur could have done. Rather than leading with a physical threat, his first act is to strip away Crowley’s emotional defences. It’s a great writing choice because god it made me hate Hastur, even more than all the physical violence we see him do.
It’s also the moment that Crowley really truly gets his shit together, and focuses all of his considerable imagination on getting to Tadfield and Aziraphale to help save the world. He’s wielding the terrifyingly unimaginable power of someone who’s hit rock bottom and realised it literally could not get any worse than this. He doesn’t put another pair of glasses on after discorporating Hastur, and he spends the majority of the airbase sequence without them.
He puts them back on again, I think, at the moment that he really lets himself hope. When he thinks ‘shit, there may be a real chance that we get through this to a future that I don’t want to lose’.
The vulnerability is back, and he needs Adam to trust him. In Crowley’s mind being accepted by a human means he needs to have his eyes hidden. Someone give the demon a hug, please.
Interestingly, there’s only one time in the whole series that we see Crowley willingly choose to take his glasses off around another person. Only one person he’ll take down that barrier for, and even then he’s drunk before he does it.
Dear God/Satan/Someone that makes my heart ache. Crowley’s chosen Earth, but he’s also chosen Aziraphale. He’s been looking for somewhere to belong his entire existence, and it’s with the angel that he finally feels it.
When the dust settles and the world is saved and they finally have space to be themselves unguarded, I like to imagine Crowley takes off the glasses when it’s just the two of them; the idea of being known doesn’t scare him quite so much anymore.  

theladyzephyr: Folks let me talk about Crowley and sunglasses, because I have a lot of emotions about when he wears them and when he doesn’...