Showing posts with label Credit Cards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Credit Cards. Show all posts

Monday, 29 January 2007

Money's Too Tight To Mention

Flicking through the channels on Sky, which is just one of a number of things I do when I'm bored off my tits, it's hard to avoid the advertisements for loan sharks. These are classic examples of how to play on a poor fucker's fears and troubles, which I suppose is what advertising is all about.

One of the companies' ads features two little cartoon birds arguing over money, two little birds being down in the dumps because they're skint, etc. All sweetness and light. This firm wants to 'help' you get back in the black. 'If you have debts of over £15000, we can help manage your repayments and set you debt free in 60 months'.

60 months is five years. Five whole fucking years. So they're expecting ordinary Joe and Josephine, who probably owe more than the Argentinian national balance of payments, to get themselves into even MORE debt in the hope of clearing all their debts in '60 months'. Are there people out there who are seriously stupid enough to fall for this keek?

There's a simple way of preventing yourself from getting into debt. Live within your means. Like Lennon said, it's easy if you try. Don't use credit cards. Credit cards are the financial equivalent of quicksand: once you're in, you sink deeper and then you're bollixed. Fucked. If I have no money to go out and get absolutely shitfaced on a Saturday night, then I'll sit in. It's probably preferable to sitting in a bar full of 17-year-old kiddies-with-titties who are fawning over 2Pac's new single, even though the cunt's been dead for 10 years.

And that advice is especially applicable to women. They see the likes of soap stars, movie stars and that tone deaf wench of David Beckham's running about in designer clothes and shoes, and they think to themselves, 'I gotta have that!' Listen up ladies. You live in the Bogside, Ballymun, West Belfast or Stab City. If people see you dressed up like Posh Spice, they won't think you're cool, or trendy. They'll think you're an balloon. So you'll get into thousands of pounds/euros in debt for people to say that when you put on that ill-fitting little black number, you have a hole on you that even the Road Service couldn't fill.

Getting into debt, and people thinking you're a wanker. It's just not worth it.