Tag Archives: eat my ass

Mini Eat My Ass – B of A edition

Bank America ATM ClosureMy first ever blog from the car using my iPod.

Bank of America is rumored to begin charging $5 a month for debit cards.

I’ve been warning about this for years. Step one is get you hooked and step two is to shove it up your ass.

So long B of A. Closing my account is going to feel great!

Update: Added picture and the following text.

Now that I’m home I can add a few additional details about the colonoscopy sponsored by Bank of America and other financial institutions across this great land of ours.

In Bank of America’s scheme, the account holder will be charged a $5 monthly fee if they use their debit card a single time in a given month. The fee is scheduled to begin early in 2012.

Other banks are joining in. Wells Fargo and Chase are “testing” $3 fees. I wonder what that means? A focus group of consumers to find out how much they like it? Doubtful.

Regions Financial plans a $4 fee starting next month. SunTrust is apparently already charging a $5 fee.

Tom’s Law #42
Let the banking customer beware.

Okay, that’s not really a law. Sorry. I lost my interest. I could fix it, but I’d have to charge a fee.

Other fees are a hippin’ and a hoppin’, too. The fees that some banks charge for “non-network” ATM usage will be going from $2.00 to $2.50 per transaction.

Some other fees I’ve heard about:

  • $1.00 – saying hello (friendly) to your banking representative
  • $42.00 – saying “fuck you” to your banking representative
  • $1.00/hour for parking in the lot or $10 for a 24-hour pass
  • $8.00 monthly surcharge for printed statements
  • $5.00 monthly surcharge for access to online banking
  • $2.00 for printed receipts
  • $5.00 for phone calls (first 15 minutes), $3 for each additional 15 minutes
  • 12 dozen Krispy Kreme donuts per parking lot use for non-profit car wash fund raising events
  • $3.00 to check account balance
  • $1.00 rental fee for pen usage when filling out deposit or withdrawal slips
  • $4.00 fee to check your ID when conducting transactions with a teller (non-robotic only)
  • One percent interest fee on all savings accounts
  • One percent deposit fee
  • Three percent transfer fee
  • Five percent withdrawal fee
  • $8.00 fee per money order
  • $25.00 fee per cashier’s check
  • $84.00 fee for insufficient funds transaction
  • $800 processing fee to fake signatures on loan foreclosures
  • $30 per incident to wear sunglasses inside a branch office
  • $7.99 to ask a bank employee the location of the bathroom
  • $10.00 to use the bathroom
  • $8.00 for toilet paper (optional)
  • $12.00 for soap to wash hands
  • $8.42 for water to use the soap
  • $4.00 for towel to dry hands
  • $20 fee for attempting to transfer money to WikiLeaks

That’s all I can think of right now. I wonder if they have any current openings for Fee Designer. I could go for a career change. B of A execs – call me! I’m cheap!

In late December [2010] it was announced that Bank of America had bought up more than 300 Internet domain names in a would-be attempt to preempt bad publicity that might be forthcoming in the anticipated WikiLeaks release. The domain names were such as BrianMoynihanBlows.com and BrianMoynihanSucks.com as well as similar names for other top executives of the bank. Nick Baumann of Mother Jones ridiculed this effort, saying: “If I owned stock in Bank of America, this would not give me confidence that the bank is prepared for whatever Julian Assange is planning to throw at it.”

Source: Wikipedia

Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Right now, you’re probably asking, “Yeah, but what about the rainforest?” You ask, I deliver!

Rainforest Action Network Statement on Bank of America’s New Emissions Commitment

May 18, 2011SAN FRANCISCO (May 18, 2011)—Today, Bank of America announced a new greenhouse gas emissions reduction commitment covering its ‘operational’ emissions coming from the company’s global facilities. The announcement can be found here: http://mediaroom.bankofamerica.com/phoenix.zhtml?c=234503&p=irol-newsArticle&ID=1565219&highlight.

Amanda Starbuck, Energy and Finance Program Director at Rainforest Action Network, issued the following statement in response:

“While we welcome Bank of America’s continued acknowledgment that reducing greenhouse gas emission is critical to combating the climate crisis, the bank must move quickly to address the much larger carbon footprint coming from its role as a lead financier of the coal industry. RAN estimates that Bank of America’s financing climate footprint is to be one hundred times larger than the size of its operational carbon footprint.

Source: RAN.org

Thanks for the reminder to check up on all the B of A controversies. All publicity is good, right? You guys sure have that nailed.

So, what does an outfit like B of A teach us about something like the free market? The takeaway (for me at least) is that they are expert practitioners of the mythical win-win voluntary fee market transaction that many hold so dear. Ooops. Dear me. I meant free market, of course.

In this sort of transaction, one side says, “Yes, I’ll conduct business with you, but only if I can rake you for every penny you’ve got. I can fee you for anything. Naturally, you can’t fee me for jack shit, no matter how ineptly and rudely I do what I said I’d do but massively failed.”

If I treated my customers the way B of A treats theirs I’d have to live in a box. I could probably get one from B of A for a $12 fee.

Classmates.com can eat my ass! (via Shouts from the Abyss)

Am I prescient? I must be. This has happened so many times. I love it when something I’ve bitched about becomes a class action lawsuit. Because of my luck (or lack thereof) I have been in many!

This morning I got an email that informed me, essentially, I am already a winner!

There has been a settlement and Classmates.com has agreed to pay $2.5 million.

In 2008, San Diego man Anthony Michaels sued Classmates.com for using the names of his former classmates to mislead him into upgrading from a free membership to a paid one. Michaels claimed the site had sent him emails to alert him that his old peers were trying to contact him, and when he upgraded his membership and logged in, he learned that it was all a ruse.

As part of the settlement Classmates.com, of course, denies any wrongdoing. Duh. But we all know you’re a bunch of ass weasels.

At least I’ve got one thing in my favor. Unlike Anthony Michaels, I didn’t fall for their bullshit. You see, I already knew it was impossible anyone from high school would ever try to contact me, therefore the Classmates.com fishing expedition was exposed.

Nice try.

The only problem now is where do I go to cash my $2.5 million check? I’m thinking the 7-Eleven down the street.

Huh? My share of the settlement will be approx. $5 to $10? What the fuck?

I want to buy all of my reader a round! The drinks are on me! (As long as they cost two cents each.)

Classmates.com can eat my ass! In theory, Classmates.com is a neat idea. You can hook up with people you used to know. Fun. Or not. 🙂 I did sign up as a free member knowing full well that some of the “premium” features would be unavailable to me. I did so under the assumption that Classmates.com wanted me to check out their service and, hopefully, later on decide to whip out my wallet and fork over some scrilla. I have to admit. I wasn’t so moved. I was quite content to remai … Read More

via Shouts from the Abyss

Operator, this is an emergency!

Blog subscriber, reader, follower, friend, phone nerd, countryman, lend me your ear!

I come not to praise U.S. Cellular, but to bury it. The evil that companies do lives after them…

“That’s really great service,” I said. “Now let me assure you of something. At the earliest possible moment when my contract is up, which isn’t too far away now, I will be terminating my service with your company and you’ll never see another penny from me as long as I live. Is that enough quality for you?”

Source: Shouts from the Abyss – We disconnect with you

At last the circle is complete. Now I am the Master.

Maybe it wasn’t the “earliest possible moment” but at long last, the long dark nightmare of the Abyss is over. I am no longer a U.S. Cellular customer!

I called U.S. Cellular recently to cancel my account. Oh God, this was gonna feel so good! Even so, I decided to take the high road, keep it mature, and, of course, no gloating!

I think I started off the phone call with, “Neener neener neener!”

Note: U.S. Cellular “quotes” in this post are paraphrased from memory and may not be 100% precise.

The greeting message seemed to have changed. “Your call may be randomly monitored for quality assurance.” Interesting! Nothing about “recording” calls? Perhaps they had changed their policy?

The customer service person on the other end of the line was downright cheery. “How can I make your day better?” she asked in the way of a greeting.

Oooh. This was gonna be good.

I informed her I was calling to close my account. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “And you’ve been our customer for X number of years, too.”

I had resolved not to bring up the past, but she really wanted to know why I was contemplating such a crazy course of action. I may have mentioned something about how U.S. Cellular did nothing for me when I originally called about being charged a different rate than their sales rep had said to my face. And that we’ve been paying that higher rate ever since then.

We went over a few details, then she said she had to transfer me to someone else to finalize the termination. This person was even more cheery!

She was nice enough. As I would expect from a retention specialist. But she had met her match. Short of sponsoring my blog to the tune of $79,500 a year, there was nothing she could do to change the outcome. Yes, I can be bought. Nike? Call me! Well, maybe not call. I no longer have a phone! Maybe you could have Tiger stop by with a check?

She practically groveled for a reason. I may have mentioned the whole recording incident, too. She said brightly, “Oh, we never know when a call will be recorded. The people on the phone are unable to control that.”

What the hell? The automated message said nothing about even the possibility of this call being recorded. Are they being up front about that? I wouldn’t be surprised to find out they reserve the right even if they don’t announce it. (That’s just my hunch, not a factual statement.) Either way, that’s the sort of thing that should be against the law. And, by no small coincidence, a reason why I no longer have a phone. Heh.

In the wholesome pursuit of voluntary simplicity I will not be getting a new phone. Perhaps, maybe, a prepaid track phone for the singular function of keeping in touch with Mrs. Abyss. Hell, no one besides bill collectors ever tried to call me, and why should I pay $70 a month to enable that?!?!?

One step closer to living off the grid… Victory!

Don’t facial me, Facebook!

Fuck off with this shiznit already!

I went to a party last night. I know, I know. That’s completely atypical behavior for your guru. I found out about it on Facebook and decided to RSVP. A friend of mine accepted a job offer and was moving out of town.

Of course, while at the party, which was held in a backyard, I found dog poop on my pants. I no longer bother asking, “Why me?” This sort of thing has become routine for me.

Facebook is something I use quite reluctantly and on a very minimal basis. I keep all of my privacy settings as restrictive as possible. Since new features get rolled out with me automatically opted-in this is an ongoing battle. Fuckers.

Part of maintaining my privacy is managing photographs of me. Controlling my profile is easy. I never upload any. Ever. But what happens when other people upload pictures of me to their Facebook profiles?

That’s when the fuck sets in.

Their settings may not be private. In fact, the pictures they upload may be open to the entire universe. Worse, thanks to Facebook’s “tagging” feature, people may be drawing little boxes around my face,  providing a beautiful and convenient trail of breadcrumbs to shit I didn’t want online in the first place.

Fuck!

So I told everyone I knew at the party, “No photos, please. My people believe it steals your spirit.” No, I’m not a member of any tribal population. By “my people” I mean uptight motherfuckers and vengeful passive-aggressive assholes who will end you if you violate my wishes.

The problem? Everyone and their grandmother at the party had fucking devices all over them. Cell phones with cameras, smart phones, iPods, iPads and iPhones were all over the fucking place. Thankfully I saw no cameras, but what good is that when everyone is packing devices that will do the same damn thing?

Worse, they fiddled with these devices continually. They played with them as if they were as fun as their own damn genitals. “Oops. It’s been ten seconds again. Time for my to fondle my iPhone. Stand back! I’m not sure how big this thing gets.”

Disclosure: I also was packing a device. An iPod Touch. But I kept it in my pants while interfacing face-to-face with actual humans. I needed no app for that.

Long story short, this morning I woke up and received “notifications” from Facebook that I had been tagged in two photos.

Motherfuckers!!!

Yeah, one person at the party (who I had explicitly asked not to take my photograph) had posted images, two of which contained my fearful visage. Then, a different person at the party came along and drew the little motherfucking box around my face, “tagging” me in Facebook parlance.

I wrote the photographer and asked her to edit me out of the pictures or pull the pictures down. She replied, “I have removed the tags.” She didn’t do as I asked. Either she’s dumb or she thinks she knows better. Grrrr.

Yep. The pictures are still on the internet. Completely outside of my control. And I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that some other person can still come along, think they are being helpful, and tag the fuckshit out of them – again.

Conclusion

As a global citizen of this planet, and one not wishing my copyrighted bread and butter (my face) gets on the internet without my consent, there is only one option left to me. I’ll never go to another fucking function where there is anyone I know.

I’m going to get me a lawyer to start sending “cease and desist” letters to my so-called “friends.” Yes, once again, that is Facebook parlance.

Make no mistake about it. If I want a facial, I’ll do it myself.

Assvertising

As seen on WeatherBug.com

I’m taking a quick blog-break at work so this will be brief. When I saw this steaming pile of horse shit on my screen, I knew I just had to share.

Hey, asshole advertisers! I have a question. Where is that line in the sand you are not willing to cross in order to sacrifice my eyeballs in exchange for profits?

I guess images that have the remotest theoretical relevance to your pitch went the way of the dodo, eh? Now the game is played dead or alive, whatever it takes, no holds barred. Make the kill on those eyeballs using whatever force necessary. Those are the rules of engagement.

My fertile brain can’t help but wonder: What’s next? Images of white mice in microwaves exploding in a gory mess of blood and intestines from the inside out? That might be eye-catching, too.

How about a little movie of someone pulling down their pants, squatting, and taking a dump on an animation of dancing pink elephant? Whatever it takes, right?

Where, oh where, is that line in the sand? Do you have any limits?

Shame on you, WeatherBug.com (in this particular case) for sucking on the teat of these assholes. When the advertising gets too egregious, you leave the humble consumer little choice. I’m blocking your piece of shit website – forever. It’s not like I have limited choices for finding weather on the internets.

Oh yeah, and by the way, if you resort to deceptive and nefarious tactics like this simply to get my attention, how in the name of holy hell do you ever expect me to trust enough to do business with you? I wouldn’t trust you if my life depended on it. I can see you right now, all greasy and shit, in your bathrobe and in a cloud of smoke, sitting in your little boiler room in God-knows-what country lying to people on the phone all day long.

Yeah, I don’t think so.

Charter Communications: The Eat My Ass Trilogy

Charter Communications Sucks

One of my earliest photoshops

To start this post, first a quick definition. “Charter Communications” is a cable company who’s primary function is to run commercials for themselves using vast quantities of their own unsold ad space on their channels. Essentially customers pay for a service where they get to watch commercials for Charter Communications and sometimes, as a bonus, actual programming.

It’s time for Charter Communications, Episode 3, where it can finally be revealed that Charter Communications is my father…

In Episode 1, we learned about an asinine $25 fee that Charter slapped on my ass because my “Quick Pay” payment “didn’t go through” and they couldn’t tell me why. We also learned about Charter shipping jobs out of our country by closing call centers in the United States while opening them up in foreign countries. (In my case I got to work with Panama City, Panama.)

Then, in Episode 2, we learned how I cry at sappy shit. (I so love being pathetic.) But we also learned how Charter’s “On Demand” is one of the largest piles of steaming shit in the galaxy. It’s truly craptacular. A veritable Death Star of Crap.

Today, the rest of the story can finally be told. The saga continues…

Charter Communications: Eat My Ass – Episode 3

It is a dark time for the Charter rebellion. Although treated badly and provided with a horrible product and horrible service, the leader of the rebellion still remains a Charter customer. So far, threats of canceling service or changing companies have never actually been carried out.

We catch up with our hero at a time of service renewal…

Here’s a quick recap of events so far. We were Charter Communications customers. We hated Charter. We had problems with our internet, with our Moxi box, and every single interaction with them was always extremely unpleasant.

We moved into a new house. We found a flier on our door with the direct number to a guy who would help us with Charter. We called and he turned out to be a Charter employee. Since we had moved, he hooked us up with a deal to get internet and TV service for a discount. The discounted price is actually more like what I would call a fair price, not the vastly inflated rates they normally charge. Things were fair and basically worked for that first year. Yes, the box sucked but our internet was ok, so we lived with it.

After that year was up, Charter jacked our rate. For the slowest possible internet and a plan consisting of the smallest possible number of channels, they wanted about $90 a month. That included the “On Demand” box and about 70 channels that we’d always had. That price was simply too outrageous and unacceptable. We made preparations to live without TV and find someone else to provide our internet.

But first, my wife decided to call that guy who had helped us before. She still had the door hang. She talked to him and explained the situation. If we didn’t get relief on their outrageous rates, we would opt-out of Charter once and for all.

The Charter employee (I again confirmed this) said he would extend the rate to us for one more year and we’d continue to have “exactly” what we had now. We agreed to this plan.

This is where Charter starts to make The Empire look like a bunch of amateurs.

For some strange reason, for his plan to work, the Charter employee had to show up at our house and swap out our cable box with one that was exactly the same. He also had to replace our cable modem for the internet. None of this made much sense to me, but whatever. I was merely a hostage in the situation AKA the customer, so I went along with it.

I had to meet the guy after work to let him in the house to make the equipment swaps. He brought in the new box and the cable modem. He swapped everything out. Everything seemed to work. Then he handed me some paperwork to sign.

WHISKEY TANGO FOXTROT!!!

On the paper work was the name “Tom Wigglebottom.” I was like, “Who the fuck is that???” It was my first name with a different last name.

The Charter employee explained this was the way it was done. Our service had previously been in my wife’s name. He explained that to continue the special price he had to close the old account, open a new one, and that it had to be in a new name. So he had invented a person with my first name and my wife’s maiden name. “Everyone does it,” he said.

“Fuck that,” I said. “I’m not going to fucking lie to be your customer.”

He said it was too late. He’d already set everything up. He said I had to accept it or everything would be shut off. I reluctantly agreed, but I was seriously pissed off. (I guess this is the moment I sold out my soul and for fucking Charter?)

I asked, “What happens if we have to call in for tech support? There is no human being with that name. They won’t talk to us.” (I knew this because Charter never allowed me to call on my wife’s account.)

“You’ll always have to go through me,” he said. “I’ll be your point of contact.” That sure sounded suspicious to me. The whole thing was one smelly deal.

His deceitful work done, the guy left. Within a day we noticed that our 70 channels were gone. We were now limited to approx. 15 channels, and most of those were public access, shopping and religion. What a wonderful deal! Also, the “On Demand” service that had previously worked OK was now the steaming pile of shit as documented in Episode 2. Something was seriously wrong.

We called the guy back. We certainly didn’t have “exactly” what we had before as he had promised.

Lo and behold, the guy was unavailable and didn’t return our calls. Now we were fucked. So we waited and waited and waited some more.

Finally my wife bird-dogged him and got him on the phone. “It must be the box,” he said. And there began a process lasting a couple of weeks. The guy would come to our house every few days, swap out the box, nothing would change, he’d talk to the home office, then promise to be back with a new box. It was amazing how many times he tried this.

Eventually the guy got pissy with us. “Listen,” he said. “You were never supposed to have those channels in the first place,” he hissed.

What the fuck? He was the one that set up the original deal! And promised to give us the same thing again. “Exactly,” he had said. And now he was making us feel like criminals for having something we weren’t supposed to have??

“We never asked for those,” I said, “nor did I ever know they weren’t supposed to be part of our plan.”

“Take it or leave it,” he said.

And this is an example of a Charter employee? Someone who doesn’t keep his promises, lies, is unethical, and then disappears after saying he’s your only point of contact. And at one point he told me, “This is how it works. Everyone does it.

In closing, I’d like to thank Charter for making my asshole three sizes too large. That must be their version of The Grinch Who Stole Abysmass.

Epilogue – A New Hope

It is beginning to look like we may have the last laugh after all. For my birthday I wanted a device that would play Pandora music on my home stereo using our wifi. It took some time but we finally found such a device. And it does so much more than just music. (More on this device in a post coming soon.)

In fact, finally, we’re going to be able to fire Charter, at least partially.

It turns out the device can stream Netflix and all sorts of other programming directly to our TV. Charter’s “On Demand” service is now obsolete. (Cue the party in my pants.) And the little device works awesome. One simple little device comes along and makes everything Charter does look like a tinker toy. That’s neat.

This next week we will be turning in our Charter box. We are also considering turning off their TV service altogether. That will mean we’ll be paying their cheapest rate for high speed internet. That will probably be something like $60 to $70 a month without being in a “bundle.” What a rip off. But our overall monthly bill with them will still go down. And we’ll finally be able to put our account back in our own friggin’ names and terminate the snarky lie their employee established.

So, that’s it for now. The trilogy is complete. Originally I had envisioned a series of nine stories about Charter. Three more “prequels” and then three more continuing what happens next. But I don’t think I have that kind of energy. Maybe instead I’ll just be done with them forever…

QuiShits

Quick. You have to quicheck this quiout before it is too quilate!

QuiBids

I spy some QuiBids! Snort me some!

Hurry, there are only a matter of seconds left. Act fast or you will lose!

Are you ready for QuiBids???

Johnny, tell ’em what they are playing for!

Product: Nikon D5000 Camera & Lens

Description: “The D5000’s 24-fps HD D-Movie mode with sound captures video clips with amazing clarity–offering new and exciting creative opportunities.”

Value Price: $699.00.

Opening Bid: 2 cents (Holy mother of God and WTF?)

What in the name of an aborted eBay is going on here?

Yep, just when you thought shopping was too easy and simple, along comes QuiBids, to capitalize on shopping excitement and cash in on basic human traits like addiction, compulsion, greed, and competition.

Oh goodie.

If you haven’t heard of QuiBids before, here’s how it works.

First, you sign up as a member and fork over your credit card data and purchase a “Starter Account” consisting of 100 “bids” for $60.00. This entitles you to visit the QuiBids site and click the “Bid” button 60 times. In other words, each bid costs you 60 cents.

If you bid on an item, like a iMac computer, for $35.54 and no one outbids you, you win the item. QuiBids brags about auctions like this iMac and the “95% saved” right on their web site. Just go pay the amount of the winning bid, in this case $35.54, and a shiny new iMac computer is yours.

Whoa! Hold on. This isn’t your grandparent’s eBay. Things work just a skosh differently on QuiBids.

First, win or lose, every time you click that “Bid” button you are spending money. You are giving up one of your pre-paid “Bids.” Think of “Bids” like poker chips in a casino. Just like a casino, QuiBids wants you to disassociate your actions from how you would feel if you were paying real money. Imagine if that “Bid” button read “Pay 60 Cents” instead. That wouldn’t do at all, would it?

Second, actions never end until 20 seconds have elapsed without bids. And every time you click the “Bid” button new seconds are put back on the clock to give other people the chance to outbid you. If you are a veteran auction sniper then QuiBids is a wet dream for you. The entire system is based on sniping.

So, let’s take a look at how a typical auction works.

The one that caught my eye today was that Nike D5000 Camera. I stumbled across it when the auction was at $22.00. QuiBids had my attention (to say the least).

I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck yesterday, though. I smelled danger. If something seems too good to be true it usually is. I went looking for the catch. There always is one.

The catch is the two points I just explained above. Each bid costs 60 cents and each bid extends the clock. Additionally each bid raises the new bid amount by the increment for the item, which is shown in the corner of the image. On the Nikon D5000 the bidding increment is 2 cents.

It has now been hours since I first spotted that camera. The wife and I literally showered and went downtown for lunch and came back home. The action is still running!

The current bid amount is $91.24. Still a good deal on a $699 camera, right?

Math Time!

Ah, my favorite part the post has arrived. It’s time for some math!

According to the QuiBids video I just watched, all items are listed at $0.00 and have a bid increment. Let’s say we want to calculate QuiBid’s profit on an item. After all, they are entitled to a little something for services rendered and managing the auction, right?

SOLD PRICE / BIDDING INCREMENT * BID COST = PROFIT$$$

Let’s plug in the numbers for the Nikon D5000 I’m watching right now. Yes, it has gone up in price as I composed this post.

$93.00 / $.02 * $.60 = $2,790.00

Profit??? Indeed! Not a bad amount to collect in fees on an item that retails for $699.00. Don’t forget that the wholesale cost for the item is probably closer to $400. (That’s a wild ass guess on my part.)

QuiBids has got to gets paid, yo. Skillz to pay the billz.

Let’s look at one more auction that just closed. The item is “Dragon Cinch Sunglasses.” The so-called “value price” is $74.95. The bidding increment was 2 cents and the item sold for $1.52. Even on this laughably puny auction QuiBids still pocketed $45.60 in bidding fees. Wow! (The wholesale cost on the item might have been around $45.)

But Wait, There’s More

Even if you lose the auction, QuiBids isn’t content to let you, the bidding fish, off the hook so easily. So you can apply the value of your bids wasted in a losing effort towards “Buy It Now.” In other words, if you entered 10 bids on an item but still lost the auction, just go buy the item and convert those wasted bids into a $6.00 credit off the retail price. A win-win. Or, as QuiBids describes it on their web site, “This way there is no bid that is ever wasted on QuiBids.” Of course that assumes every auction loser goes and pays full price.

Basic Human Pyschology

I previously mentioned human traits like “greed” and “addiction.” How does QuiBids push these buttons?

First, every bidder has a username and a cutsey little avatar to represent them in this QuiBids version of Tron.

Each time you click the “Bid” button your name gets flashed on the screen as the “Current Winner.” Oooooh, I just “won” something? Yes, the right to see your own username on your monitor for 1-20 seconds or so. Exciting, eh?

The current high bidder is always referred to as a “winner” whether the auction is over or not. I find that to be rather insidious.

When QuiBids says someone is the “Current Winner” they are hoping (and knowing) that people will key on the word “winner” even though in the context “Current” is the only word with any actual meaning. 99% of all bids will be outbid and that’s the moment when “winners” become “losers.” Gee whiz, for the life of me, I can’t imagine why they don’t flash that on the screen. D’oh.

To emphasize even more that QuiBids is merely a game there is even something called “Achievements.” You’ll find this word gets its own real estate on the site’s main menu bar. Once clicked, you’ll be taken to a page with subtle hints like a giant scoreboard (is QuiBids a sport?) and the word “Gameday” written on it. Using the achievements system you can earn little graphics called “Badges” that your competitors can see with your online profile. This allows QuiBids customers to identify which competitors are the biggest idiots. But the pyschology at work is still significant. “Let’s turn spending bids on QuiBids into game.”

This is sounding more and more like a casino, isn’t it. Perhaps QuiBids should be legally required to disclose that bidding is for “entertainment purposes only.” Just like a stripper pole, only there you actually get something.

Closing Thoughts – A Peek Behind the Curtain

In the end, QuiBids is just another form of gambling. Somehow online casinos are outlawed and even games like Holdem Poker have to be hosted on shady criminal islands so that compulsive Americans can illegally gamble. But QuiBids has found a way to make it all legal. I think. I’m not really sure if it’s legal or not. The fact that it’s online doesn’t prove shit.

Welp, I’d like to say that I’ll see you all next time but the truth is I’ll be gone from the blog for a while. I’m investing next month’s rent check into QuiBids. Wish me luck!

P.S. That Nikon D5000 auction is still going and at $103.96. I bet it goes longer than the Energizer bunny!