First, some good news: we're getting a house! Yeah, we've known about that part for a while, but there was one little part of the financing that didn't get approved until this week. And by one little part of the financing, I mean an enormous amount of money that I couldn't raise myself without a shotgun, a getaway car, and some pantyhose over my face.
I don't understand these mortgage companies throwing sums like around to chumps like me. Especially now, it seems like they'd be terrified of losing their money. If I ran a mortgage company (and if I get cancer, that's what I'm sending into the Make A Wish Foundation), here's what my application would look like.
1. What's your name?
2. Are you a millionaire?
3. If you are not a millionaire, are you closely related to an ailing millionaire?
4. Are you like, really, really closely related?
5. You understand I mean actually related, and not just blood brothers?
6. Are you in this ailing millionaire's will?
7. You've seen this will recently?
8. Any chance some succubus will slide in at the last minute, sex up your relative, get herself added to the will, and take all of your loot? (We carry a brochure for succubus insurance, if interested.)
9. Is there anything we could do to hasten the demise of your rich relative?
Thankfully, most mortgage companies don't require that kind of detail in their applications. I'm thankful for that; all of that scheming would make my head hurt.
Posted by Cody at March 19, 2008 8:32 PMWell played, Laurdy Seawell. If you need help moving in, I know people who have Darby and Houndog's phone numbers.
Posted by: Pdiddy at March 19, 2008 9:16 PM