Yes a Mortgage

Ayesha suggested that I do a blog post about mortgages. I agree with this because it could be invaluable to people who want mortgage or think mortgage but don’t know how or what mortgage. This post will tell you how and what and why and also what mortgage.

What Mortgage

A mortgage is when a bank (or other organisation that takes and uses other people’s money) buys a house for you and then you buy it off of them.

The word comes from a combination of the words mortar and gag. Like when you’re having a house shoved down your throat or the house is making you sick.

At first you will probably be doing one of the three other ways of living in a house:

  1. Living with family or friends for cheaps.
  2. Living in a stranger’s house and paying them loads.
  3. Living in a house where you don’t know who owns it and they don’t know you’re there for free.

When one day you realise that you aren’t doing one of these things you will realise that you have a mortgage. Or you are homeless.

Once you have decided yes a mortgage you will need to know how mortgage.

How Mortgage

There are different mortgage experiences. To illustrate this we are going to go through the mortgage process from the point of view of two individuals. One is a person and the other is a superstar pop singer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why Mortgage

It is important to buy expensive things with money that you don’t have. This is expressed best through lyrics:

 

Dead Bill

Just found an old story buried in my gmail. I had jotted it down before going to sleep one day:

Dead Bill

After leading for mostly a lonely life, Bill sat down and died. In the morning Bill woke up and made a breakfast of eggs. Bill went out into the street. “Hi Bill.” his neighbours said. Bill smiled and said hello back. Bill went to the shop. “Hi Bill.” said the people in the shop. Bill smiled and said hello back. Bill went home, had some tea and turned on the television. “Hi Bill.” said the news. Bill frowned and said hello back.

“Why are you frowning Bill?” said the news reader.
“You’ve never said hi to me before.” said Bill.
“Well,” said the news reader, “today is different. You’re on the news today.”
“I am?”
“Yes. We’re having an interview right now.”
“We are?”
“Yes.”

Bill’s frown deepened.

“Okay,” said Bill, “do you have some questions?”
“Yes. What is it like when you are dead?”
“Am I dead?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Well then, I suppose it’s the same as being alive…except more people talk to you and smile.”
“Oh, that is a good answer Bill,” the news reader smiled, “all of our viewers will be very pleased. It’s the same but nicer, they’ll say.”
“It is,” said Bill, “do you have any other questions?”
“I don’t think so,” said the news reader, “I wouldn’t want to risk a bad answer after that very good answer.”
“Okay then, “said Bill, “Bye then.”
“Bye bye Bill.”

Bill turned off the television. He stared at the wall and then he stared at the floor, his frown growing as deep as it could. He then stood up at the same time as the doorbell rang. Bill opened the door.

“Hello Sir!” Cried an odd looking American lady in a top hat. “How are you today?”
“Are you here to take me to heaven?” Bill said, looking very confused and sheepish.
“I’m here to take you to fun!” Beamed the lady and then swept her arm back, revealing a jet plane sitting in the middle of Bill’s street.
“Get yourself on that airplane there sir!”
“I have to go to work.” Said Bill, wondering whether he did or not.
“Haha, sir. I wouldn’t be here if you did, and I’m definitely here and you’re definitely on that plane, now hop to it!”

Bill walked up the steps onto the plane and sat down. A waiter came up and handed him a minty lemonade.

“Thank you.” said Bill.

The top-hatted gentlewoman leapt up onto the plane, lifted her hat from her head and treated Bill to an elegant bow. The plane took to the air with a mighty Whooosh!

“Now then, where to first sir? L.A? Broadway? C-C-C-Carnegie Hall?!”
“Do I have to go to one of those?”
“I think the answer to that question is why would you not want to go to one of those, is it not sir?”
“Well, I don’t really like showbusiness. It’s a bit noisy isn’t it. I’d rather do something a bit quieter.”
“A bit quieter? A bit quieter?! Nonesense! You’ll be world famous, you’ll live forever, you’ll be adored!”
“I don’t want to be world famous, live forever and be adored,” said Bill, “besides, I’m too dead to live forever.”
“Never too late sir, never too late. Now just sit back and relax, we’ll be landing shortly on the roof of Empire Studios. From there we’ll make the best entrance you’ve ever made, you’ll play the best Tarzan there’s ever been, we’ll jet all over the world doing interviews, be back in New York for the premiere tonight and you’ll be on screens worldwide at 8pm. Isn’t that just glorious!”
“I don’t like it!” cried Bill, “I want to get off.”
“Can’t get off now, sir. The world turns, the movies get made, the people get famous!”

But Bill had already jumped out of the door and he fell down and down and down and Phlumph! landed in a big mound of snow. He stood up and shook himself off and looked around the glittering graveyard.
There was a hooded figure standing by a large square hole. Bill walked over and looked into it. His bed was at the bottom, looking comfy.

“Is this mine?” Bill said to the figure.

The figure didn’t say anything. The black hole of its hood just stared back at Bill.

“That was a silly question wasn’t it!” Bill chuckled. “I suppose I should get in should I?”

The figure shrugged.

“You know, I was never that unhappy or anything. I didn’t mind being lonely mostly. A lot of people are. Some are even lonely all the time…”

The figure’s shoulders slumped. It looked at its watch.

Bill lowered himself into the hole and fell backwards into bed.

“Ooh, comfy.” He said and looked up to say bye but the figure had wandered off already.

Bill found a big mug of steaming tea next to his bed and settled down with it.

“Well, one thing’s for sure,” he said, “I’d rather be in bed and comfy with tea in a mug than a big great Tarzan!”

He chuckled quietly to himself and, finishing his tea, lay down and went to sleep.

A Letter To Ladybirds

Ladybird babies are weirdos:










I knew this already though. There were a whole bunch of these on a plant on my roof because the plant had about a bazillion greenfly on it and then it’s natural for the predators to come along.

But what I did not know is the bit in between ladybird baby and ladybird grown-up. I went out on the roof the other day and those weird babies had turned into these really weird alien pods:










They’re like creepy spaceships. At one point one of them reared up on it’s furry back parts.

In response to this I made the ladybirds a letter of appreciation: