# 473 in an interchangeable list of thousands
The thing I hate most in the world right now this minute is my online banking access. It makes me pick random letters from my password and as I can't hold the letter-to-number translation in my head I have to count on my fingers every single time in order to establish what the third, seventh and eighth letters (or whatever arcane combination it's demanding this time) might be. It drives me MENTAL.
I am a little grumpy today. The Other Half left at 4am to fly to Hamburg and is in all probability drinking champagne from the perspex-soled mule of a Reeperbahn stripper even as we speak.
Well, it's actually a work trip but I never promised to be rational.
Carry on.
I am a little grumpy today. The Other Half left at 4am to fly to Hamburg and is in all probability drinking champagne from the perspex-soled mule of a Reeperbahn stripper even as we speak.
Well, it's actually a work trip but I never promised to be rational.
Carry on.
posted by surly girl at 10:01 am
14 Comments:
Ha Ha! I'm the first! Victory is mine!
Passwords/numbers/codes are loathsome - yes they're necessary but I'm sure there must be another way.
I'm scared that if the auto-log-in thingy stops working in my Demon Box, I'll never be able to comment or post again. I have a terrible memory and. Can't. Remember. My. Password!
Your Other Half: he's slumped in a chair listening to some boring fool drone on about nothing of importance - I took the liberty of doing some scrying. The boring fool is male and not wearing perpex shoes. Hope you're a bit less grumpy now?
His vist to the Reeperbahn will probably convert him to transvestism.
This is a good thing. Britain needs more trannyboy heavy metallist biker types.
My bank also cuts me off if I take too long trying to get the dammed numbers in. I have to write the password down with the numbers above them.
Perhaps you should buy yourself a half bottle of bubbly and ring him so you can drink together?
I meant perspex. Scrying through infernal machinery always makes me a bit screwy...
I can't stand the number of passwords we're expected to remember. Between online access to my bank, credit cards and medical records, I probably have no less than 2 million passwords. Add email & blogging and the number jumps to 2.5 million.
I am too cunning indeed for the system to box me in... I have one password.
Well, 2, if you count the ones that need a number in it.
Password and password1.
Genius, me.
My bank issues a 'keycard' with 80 written keys and when you log in you have to first give them your social security number and then the keycard number. Then it asks what key 69 is and you write that followed by your password. It's pretty easy really if you can remember the bloody password that you can't change into something you can remember.
Reeperbahn isn't really that interesting. The girls there are cheap and vile. I was there with work 3 years ago. Ew!
Terrible online banking complexity. Mine at least has the decency to ask for the first four numbers or last three, etc., so that it's a little easier to figure.
I'm betting that when OH is with the stripper, he's TOTALLY thinking of you the whole time.
I've just had what the Polish term 'appetisers' which means 3 cans of extra strength Heineken before dinner. The rest of my evening will involve trying to get this fucking DSL broadband connection to stay operational. Strippers my arse !!!
On a more serious note, I miss SG more than I can say and hate every minute this job takes me away from her.
bless you hon. am sure once the pole-dancing-transvestite-dwarf show gets going you'll soon forget all your troubles. just watch out for low-flying ping pong balls.
i miss you too - hurry home.
Hi SG, why not fly out and surprise him ;o)
Ummmm The link to my blog in your side bar has gone? any chance of getting it back ...pretty please?
If you never promised to be rational, I see no reason to start now.
Just don't check and wait for the bailiffs to come and get you - more fun that way.
I can't work out those things either, but it's even worse when you phone them up and they put you on the spot by asking you.
Stick your cash in the mattress.
First Direct, eh? But brilliant in every other way, no?
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