Fraudulent Friday

Some people out there just can’t get away from being a scumbag with some computer savvy. Somehow, some way, some anonymous dickhead managed to get a hold of my debit card number and evaporated every cent in my checking account. Sucks, right? Well, what sucks more is the fact that I got hit…on payday. Off the rip, when your card declines at a store you frequent, when you have funds in your account, your heart skips a beat. After the heart skips, the hot rush of a thousand suns turned my normally olive (ok, tan) skin a shade of reddish purple.

I’m generally hella laidback, relaxed, and let a lotta shit slide that’d piss off normal folks. But if you fuck with my family, friends, and especially my MONEY – that’s when things get super ugly. People who have too much time on their hands, some slickness, and use the veil of anonymity to get over on people deserve swift, violent punishment. Those that bilk the elderly outta their life savings are absolutely on the same level. That said, someone managed to grab a coffee in Texas for $1.42 while I was here getting more expensive coffee, using the same card number. Good looking out, Sovereign – I probably woulda had no idea. I hope your Texan coffee tasted like dip spit, cocksucker.

The shit that truly gets me is the unbelievable lack of details for pending charges with the bank. Dickhead used $603 to purchase something thru PayPal, but their transactions generally take 3-5 business days to complete. Huh. Guess what that means for overly aggressive, borderline homicidal Anthony? Seized bank account, closed debit card, remaining money in the account impossible to touch, and a shit, broke weekend. On top of that, I have not the slightest clue as to what this phantom Texan spent my money on. I’m hoping it’s a spiked, 22 inch, steel dildo that he intends to impale himself with, to be completely honest.

If it was credit card fraud, I might be able to handle it better. Close the card, investigate the charges and have them wiped. But oh no, it was a debit card, meaning the money comes right outta the account, no questions asked. To me, that’s akin to being stuck up on the street and having your wallet taken. Cash money, outta pocket, no stopping it. I knew certain folks wouldn’t have a problem being me. I just didn’t necessarily assume that they’d want my money. Much less some random Texan with a penchant for presumably capturing keystroke on my computer.

God’s on your side right now, phantom fuckboy. But if I find out WHO and WHERE you are, my my my – I’ll be sure to use my recouped money to take a little vacation in the southwest and systematically destroy your life, breathing and eating habits, and take away your freedom. I don’t speak idly, trust that.


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