So I go through the unnecessarily arduous steps to obtain my free credit report. At various stages in the process one has to prove that he's human by deciphering misshapen letters. I think, once in a while, bankers and credit card executives should have to prove humanity. Not by transcribing twisted text, but by illustrating some form of genuine kindness. Tax-deductible charity donations don't count. Something selfless and tangible. But I digress. The distorted characters I had to translate seemed to spell out their message to me and it's clear that they'll tolerate my existence as long as they're getting money out of it, but they sure don't like me.

It doesn't take too much imagination to turn FUQK 70 into FU*K YOU...