Tag Archives: debt

My bank is trolling me

My bank loves me, it seems. See, they love rich people because of that whole ‘loads of money’ thing and how… well, I don’t know. Whatever it is they do with their money. It’s never been that clear to me why they love rich people so much.

Probably something to do with all the fancy hats they can afford.

Anyway, banks then hate people like you, because you are normal, have a bit of money (but not loads) and don’t piss about with them in any real way. I am not one of you people. Nor am I one of the rich ones.

No, I belong to a select group that teeters on the brink – never quite absolutely broke, but always having to take advantage of credit facilities and overdrafts. I’m the kind of person kept in a perpetual state of debt that I have to pay for the privilege of having, which contributes to me staying in said debt. In perpetuity.

As I’ve said before, it’s entirely my fault so I’m not whining right now.

But it’s fun – in a hilarious, cynical way – how nice the bank is to me as a result of both a) not really having any money and b) not really causing them any problems as a result. I’m a good little prole to them, always paying minimum amounts, overdraft charges and whatever else they lob my way and never threatening to earn or save enough money to drag myself out of this.

Which is why the bank just sent me a letter this week offering to increase my overdraft limit by 50%, to £3,000. Because they have a sick sense of humour at banks and think ‘well, if we can already fleece him, why don’t we try and fleece him a bit more?’

Fortunately I’d have to ring them up to arrange this, and that’s not going to happen because I hate using the phone. Oh, also I’m thick and bad with money, but I’m not that thick or bad with money. Shove it up your arse, HSBC – you’ve got enough of my debt thanks.

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Ian’s 2011/12 budget

Right, starting next week I’m going to budget properly. Or something. Like an adult. I’m two months shy of my 28th birthday and I still have all the financial awareness of a whelk that’s particularly poor with its cash. Debts are annoying and not getting smaller, but as it’s my own fault I should make an official list on weekly/monthly expenses. Let’s see…

Underpants: £23 per month

Beef: £45 per week

More underpants: £13 per month

Bus pass: £nothing, I walk bitches

Bus pass: £52 per month, I changed my mind

Yet more underpants: £34 per week

Essentials (Haribo, rum etc): £400 per month

Rent, bills etc: £can’t be arsed paying them anymore

Amount I’m not taking this seriously: £lots

With this plan, I will be able to save about £2.34 a week. In just a matter of one or two months I will have enough to pay off all of my monumental debts. Don’t doubt me on this – I got a B at GCSE maths.

Then again, I might just not bother and live just above the bread line for the rest of my life. My own doing it be, my own complaining it be – I just needed something quick to write about and this is what was on my mind.

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It’s safer in the herd

There’s comfort to be had in the crowd. I will wail and whine about being ‘different’ and generally disliking popular things, but I will find great solace in being decidedly average.

For example, I profess opinions on video games for money. Apparently it’s a job, though I still don’t believe anyone about that. I make these decisions independent of any outside interference, apart from sometimes discussing the experience with someone else who has played the game. When it comes to putting a number on the end, it’s often quite a pleasant feeling to see that other people across the world, entirely independently of anything, have agreed with you.

I mean, it’s not exactly hard seeing as every game ever scores 7/10, but still. Warmth in being decidedly average.

The Darling Lovely Anna pointed out some alleged facts to me earlier about the average level of individual debt in the UK, and I was pleased to see that I’m pretty average there too. This was comforting in it made me think I’m not the only person in the world stupid enough to get into this situation, and I’m not the only person bricking it about money at all hours of every single day. Being average means you’re part of the pack, and being part of the pack can sometimes be of comfort.

Not that I’m saying I want in on this little thing you all have going, with your popular culture and average opinions. For one, I will never accept Michael McIntyre as anything other than shit, like all you averagers do. Stick your average up your average arse.

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