Friday, June 27, 2008


"Thank you, Mr. Thistle, for banking with us all these years. Because we value your business, we have arranged to provide you with $1,000 worth of accidental death and dismemberment insurance."

This was my bank's way of thanking me. Why are these bleeping mouth breathers so freaking grim? Would it kill these ninny pods to offer me dinner for four at an expensive New York City restaurant?

I think when somebody thanks you for being a loyal customer, it should be a celebration of life rather than a somber reminder that I might be chopped to bits by a dysfunctional threshing machine. Or lose a limb while felling a tree with my Black & Decker chainsaw.

Needless to say, I have not yet taken them up on their ghoulish offer.

I'm holding out for the sterling silver urn for my ashes. Although I haven't ruled out the monogrammed oak coffin.



Neil (aka Uncle Neil [aka Man from Uncle]) said...

And the inscription on your urn: Dismember me.

Neil (aka Uncle Neil [aka Man from Uncle]) said...

I forgot to mention, when I was a wee tyke (a few years after you were a wee tyke), they used to offer they policies at school. They came with a schedule of benefits--$2,000 for loss of a hand, $3,000 for one foot and on eye, and so on. The biggy was death, which brought a whopping $10,000. What genius figured that hobbling around on one foot, half blind, was better than dying?